Tardiness in friends

At a previous company, I once worked with a sales leader I really respected. Although I am not in sales, I oftentimes listened to his team talks and abided by his advice. Countless times, I can remember what he said repeatedly about showing up to customer meetings: “If you are not 15 minutes early, then you are 15 minutes late.” To him, if you showed up for a 9am meeting at 8:59 or 9am, you were already late and losing the damn deal.

There’s some truth in this advice, and not just in business, but also with lower stakes situations, such as when you are meeting up with friends or other loved ones. You want to make a good impression, stay on good footing with those you care about, and ultimately, show some respect. When you set a meeting time, you are dedicating this time to this person, and thus you are respecting that they chose to set aside this time out of their busy day just for you.

I used to be the jerk who would be late fairly regularly to non-work-related events. In my early 20s, when I’d say I would meet with a friend at 6:30pm, in my head, I’d give myself a 15-minute window of “grace.” This was never spoken. I never told any friend this. But I figured I could get there by 6:45 and it would totally be fine. Sometimes, I’d arrive early or on time. But oftentimes, I was 10-15 minutes late. And finally one day, Chris called me out on it and said it was rude, said we agreed on a meeting time, and that I needed to respect that. Sheepishly, I admitted he was right. With that, plus the influence of work, since then, I make it a point to show up to meetups about 10-15 minutes early now, assuming I am not crunched for time by things out of my control (like work meetings that might run over). And that gave me the liberty (and permission) to start calling out other friends who would show up late to agreed meetups. It’s had a “trickle-across” effect: a couple friends who would usually be late are now almost always either early or on time. Now, the majority of my friends are always on time.

Well, that’s with the exception of one friend, who is notoriously late all the time. She has shown up to 1:1 meetups with me late by 10-30 minutes. Last year, she came to lunch with us late by almost an hour; Chris was infuriated. She came to my 40th birthday party late by 1.5 hours. And then this past Sunday, she came over an hour late to my Lunar New Year party.

“Being late is just a sign of disrespect,” Chris insisted as he grumbled about her. “Would she show up late to a work event or a workout class? I doubt it. So it’s not like she’s not capable; she just doesn’t respect her friends enough to be on time.”

I texted her about 10 minutes before she showed up on Sunday, asking if she was almost here (this is 50 minutes after the stated start time of my party on the Paperless Post invitation). Everyone else was already here; we were all waiting for her to arrive. When she came through the door with her husband, she saw my text as Chris took their coats, and she had said almost defensively to my text, “Well, we’re coming from far away.” Well, “far away” is all relative: we had friends come from Staten Island, New Jersey, and similar parts of Brooklyn, and they were all early or relatively on time, unless they had told us in advance they had to be late for some reason or another. With her, we had zero communication. And she clearly didn’t do the due diligence of looking at the start time, then backing out based on Google Maps how long it would take them to get to our place via public transit the way a logical person would.

Another friend was complaining to me about people who are perpetually late. “What, do they think an event start time is just a suggestion?” she asked me.

Although I’ve already called this friend out on being repeatedly late a number of times, I have a feeling that I’m going to have to confront her about it more seriously at some point soon because when I think of the sheer number of times she’s been late, it’s exactly what Chris says: it’s just a huge disrespect. Everyone is “busy,” but no one is too busy to constantly be late all the time and disrespect people they supposedly care about.

Year of the Fire Horse Lunar New Year Party

Today, we had a Lunar New Year party of 17 friends who came to feast on 12 different dishes that I made! It was our largest group hosted yet. We had 16 people, but then a friend of Chris decided last minute he could come. Chris asked if I had enough food. I had a mini panic in my head last night, but I figured that I could always supplement with additional dumplings I had cooked and frozen that were originally meant for future use.

Well, there was way more than enough food; I was actually shocked by the amount of food we had left over, which just means that we’ll have more to eat (and less need for me to cook!) for this week. This year, in true form, I “upleveled” and tried out some new recipes, did my usual trusted staples, and also added more Vietnamese dishes (which were quite labor-intensive!) to the line-up. After prepping for two weeks and deciding on this menu about a month ago, this is what I made:

Starters:

Banh it tran – Vietnamese (Hue) sticky rice dumplings filled with mashed mung bean and minced pork, topped with scallion oil, fried shallots, and served with nuoc cham

Banh bot loc – Vietnamese (Hue) banana leaf steamed tapioca dumplings stuffed with shrimp , served with nuoc cham

[Do chua – pickled carrot and daikon (for both dumplings above, plus thit kho as a palate cleanser/much needed acidic hit)]

Luo bo gao – Chinese pan fried radish cake with Chinese sausage, shiitake mushrooms, and shredded scallops

Mains:

Thit kho – Vietnamese coconut water braised pork ribs with eggs

Nuo mi fan – Chinese sticky rice with Chinese sausage, cha siu, shredded scallops, shiitake mushrooms

Dan Dan noodles

Steamed wild black sea bass with ginger and scallion

Blanched yu choy greens with black vinegar sauce and crispy garlic

Buddha’s Delight / Luo han zhai: Stir fried (12!) vegetables with mung bean noodles

Desserts:

Black sesame swirled pumpkin nian gao

Chinese almond cookies

Black sesame tang yuan

Food is one of my love languages. I love feeding people I love. I love it when people discover new foods and enjoy them, and I love when they discover new foods they enjoy because of me. And I love it when people love the food I make them. One friend discovered she loved lotus root and the different tofu products in my zhai dish; she also loved the do chua/pickled carrot and daikon for my Vietnamese dishes. Another friend was obsessed over the savory-sweet flavor that the coconut water gave my thit kho/pork ribs. A friend who came for the first time said she couldn’t get enough of my steamed fish and how flavorful it was. A friend also was excited to have my black sesame tang yuan again — this is someone who is self-professed about being anti-dessert, but loves these sticky rice balls of “not too sweet” black sesame filling.

It’s definitely a lot of thought and work to put into this party, but I love every bit of it. I love the lead up, the food prep, the last minute bits that have to be cooked, the chaos that ensues with the kids coming in. And I always end the evening, after lots of cleaning and washing, with a happy and warm heart.

Cultural food traditions – honoring family, roots, and ancestors

“Are you sure you want to make everything?” Chris asked me the other day regarding our upcoming Lunar New Year party this Sunday. “You don’t want to buy any food at all?”

I hesitated for a second because I realized that we had about 18 people total expected to come. To date, this would be the biggest group of people we’ve not only had in our home, but would also be providing food for. “No, I don’t want to buy any prepared food,” I insisted. “I like making all these dishes!”

He relented and said that as long as I enjoyed it, then we could proceed as is, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to lighten the load and buy some prepared foods. I told him I’d consider it in the future — maybe.

As progressive of a person as I like to think I am, there are some traditions I do like to hold up, especially in the realm of food. There’s a real art in making a lot of these traditional New Year’s dishes, and the skills are dying because most people of my generation and younger just don’t value it very highly. Who is going to spend time sourcing all the eight to 20 vegetables to make a cohesive and homemade Buddha’s delight (luo han zhai, or just zhai)? Who wants to spend time making tang yuan dough by hand and from scratch; plus the black sesame paste filling, grinding, rolling, then freezing individual black sesame balls, to then wrap them in dough, and freeze once again… to then boil in hot water and then finally eat? We all have work, day to day responsibilities, and most people just want to throw in the towel and simply eat the food. That’s why so many families just go out to restaurants to celebrate Lunar New Year, or they’ll get ready-made foods and bring them home. But I’m not one of those people. I actually take pride and joy in making these dishes from scratch. It’s like honoring my grandparents and my cultures — that’s the way I see it. Not everyone eating these dishes at my party will understand the cultural significance. But every time I make them, I remember why they’re important and why they’re worth the time and energy to make. This time of year, I do spend time reflecting on where I came from and my roots, and while I make these foods, I meditate on it, clear my mind, and reflect on the past, present, and future.

What you think is common is not so common

I feel like I’ve spent most of my life hearing people from outside the U.S., media, professors, teachers, older adults, and even my own husband talk about how stupid Americans are. Our literacy rates are pretty poor. Our math and language standards are significantly lower than in most rich industrialized nations. We have a lot to be embarrassed about from an education standpoint. But sometimes, people really, really shock me in ways I would not have otherwise guessed.

I was working on a shared Google Sheet with a colleague over the last few days. Both of us were editing it, and I had to hide a bunch of columns because I wanted to isolate certain columns of information I needed to work on another project. He got confused when he was in the sheet today and asked me why he couldn’t find certain columns of information. “Did you hide the cells or delete them?” He messaged me. “Can you please unhide them?”

I was baffled. I read the message twice before it suddenly hit me that he probably didn’t even know how to unhide the cells. How can you possibly be a white-collar professional in your seemingly late 40s and not know how to do the most basic functions in Excel or Google Sheets? And even if you didn’t know, go look it up — that’s what Google Search and all these AI applications are for!

Blizzard descends upon the Northeast

While I was originally planning to take Kaia to the Lunar New Year festival at the Lincoln Center today, that event ended up getting cancelled due to the blizzard hitting the Northeast through tomorrow. Chris was listening to the official notifications regarding the blizzard: it would officially be declared a snow day tomorrow, which means there wouldn’t even be remote learning for older school children. All grocery stores would be closed, and very likely the majority of restaurants and businesses. Many subway trains would be running on weekend/reduced schedule. New Jersey Transit would not run. And they even implemented a travel ban for all non-essential vehicles in Manhattan within certain hours of the day.

For activities for today, Kaia’s swim class got cancelled since the college pool is closed. But her martial arts class in the morning still went on as planned. Chris grumbled that the weather sucked and that it was miserable outside; I reminded him that most Sundays, he never wants to go outside, anyway, and insists on relaxing on the bed with his computer. He responded and said that wasn’t the point: it’s actually about just knowing there’s an option to have a pleasant day outside. Plus, dreary weather always gets most of us in a sleepier mood, even when we haven’t done much at all to get tired.

A friend of mine in San Francisco is having her belated 40th birthday celebration there today. I won’t be there for it, but I messaged her to let her know I was thinking about her and that I hope she has a good time. She responded and said she completely understands why I don’t typically travel for leisure at this time of year: she saw reports about the impending blizzard and said that would definitely be terrifying for any planned air travel.

So I spent my Sunday doing what I usually do: morning yoga, a lot of cooking, some cleaning, and some playing with the Kaia Pookie. Tomorrow will be a snow day, so work productivity will already be lower. So we’ve just got to focus on the important things, which is staying warm, having enough good food to eat, and making sure that we stay sane with this continuous cold weather.

Kaia, almond croissants, and Almondine Bakery

We were wandering around Dumbo, Brooklyn, today, finding new places (like the incredible Fontainhas Cafe — what delicious royal chai!), and revisiting old favorites, like Almondine Bakery. Almondine Bakery has long been on the “best of” lists in New York City when it comes to their croissants, and especially their almond croissant. They definitely do not skimp here: they have a really thick, generous layer of almond paste inside the croissant, along with a beautiful sprinkling of toasted, sliced almonds on top. We’ve gone here pretty much every year of Kaia’s existence; I still remember Almondine being one of the very first places where I did a diaper change for her in their bathroom (on the floor, with a mat!). As soon as she realized we were in a bakery this visit, she ran to the glass display cases and started pointing at all the colorful things she wanted to eat. But I told her that we’d get almond croissants (she cannot always choose at her age). She insisted she didn’t want an almond croissant; as of late, she has some mental block seeing almonds and walnuts in any form (even though she’s actually happy to eat them). When I bought the croissants over to our table, though, she immediately tried to pull the croissant out of the bag and wanted to dig in right away. But.. she started trying to pick off the sliced almonds on top and just eat the main croissant.

When we were leaving Almondine, I had her pose with the Almondine sign and take a photo there. Later this evening when reviewing my Google Photos, I did a search for “almond croissant,” and there I saw more photos across the years of Kaia at Almondine. We’ve taken so many repeat shots of her at the same place, year after year, that I could easily do a year-by-year, one after the other, photo slide show of her frequenting our favorite spots across this city. Our old faves may stay the same at the same locations with our same love for them, but our Kaia Pookie just keeps growing and growing. And her smile at these places is only getting bigger and bigger, too!

What is “chai”?

My “to try/love/old standby” Google Maps favorites list is now over 800 places strong for the New York City area. It was too much effort and trouble to create a separate list for “to try” versus “loves/old standbys,” so I just know by looking at my one list which ones I’ve been to already and enjoy versus places I would like to check out. I had a little non-descript chai spot on my list for the Lower East Side, so I asked my friend to meet there today for a late afternoon tea catch-up session.

Since it was my first time there, I got their first and most popular drink, the masala chai. The description of the tea says, “black tea, cardamom, clove, cinnamon, ginger, black pepper.” The drink is slightly sweetened, and the cafe, as a standard, uses only oat milk. When I had my first sip of the chai, the first thing that hit me was the strong ginger flavor, which I enjoyed. But then the flavor that kept lingering, and not in a great way, was the cinnamon. The cinnamon just completely overpowered the other spices in this drink. I did enjoy it overall, and I liked the ambiance of this cafe, but I am not sure I’d come back here just for the chai (they have some other tea drinks on the menu, as well).

“Chai” means a lot of things to different people. “Chai” actually just means “tea,” but when used in a cafe context here in the U.S., it usually is referring to Indian spiced chai with milk. Everyone likes theirs made differently. Some people want just ginger or just cardamom. Some people like a mix of different spices. Some just want double boiled black tea with milk. Some people want a lot of sugar, while others want little or none. I’ve realized after having many different chais at different places, including across India, and also making my own, that my favorite chai is very strong on the cardamom and ginger, with a hint of fennel and clove. And if I am making it at home, I need to add about half a teaspoon of sugar (ideally brown or something else molasses-y) per cup to even out the inevitable bitterness that comes from double boiling CTC tea. As far as I am concerned, it’s not chai unless there’s ginger and/or cardamom. And unless I am in that type of mood, I never, ever add cinnamon to my chai because I find that it always overpowers all the other spices, especially the delicateness of cardamom, which is undeniably one of my favorite spices on the planet. The older (and supposedly wiser) I get, the more and more I appreciate fine, subtle flavors that whisper to you in the background.

The Husband of the Year award goes to Chris on the first day of the Year of the Fire Horse: the mad, spontaneous sprint to retrieve Banh’s banh chung!

A few weeks ago, we had a decadent lunch at Banh on the Upper West Side, which is one of our favorite Vietnamese restaurants in the city. While there, I picked up one banh chung, or banh tet, a Vietnamese savory sticky rice cake that is steamed in banana leaves and stuffed with luxurious mashed mung bean and pork; it’s a traditional food that is painstakingly made for Tet Lunar New Year. Previously each Lunar New Year, I’d pick up a banh chung from the Vietnamese market I usually go to on Bowery off of Grand (assuming I wasn’t back in San Francisco around this time, which would mean my mom would gift me one from one of her favorite Vietnamese bakeries), but this year, I decided that since we were already at Banh that I might as well pick one of theirs up. Plus, the cost of the banh chung had been slowly going up each year at the market and by now was pretty much the same price as Banh’s (what costs aren’t going up?), so it wasn’t like I’d save much money, plus I’d be able to finally try Banh’s rendition, which I’ve always wanted to taste.

Today is the first day of Lunar New Year, the year of the fire horse. So I saved the Banh banh chung to steam today as part of our dinner tonight. I steamed, unwrapped, and cut it up, and I laid it out on the table. And Chris took one bite of it and declared that it was the best banh chung, or really, the best savory steamed rice wrapped in banana leaves, that he’d ever had — period. I took a bite of it and wasn’t totally sure it was the best banh chung ever since I’ve had a lot of these, but yes, it was really, really delicious. Every bite just seemed to melt into my mouth and burst with flavor. We gave Kaia a piece, and she devoured it in seconds, then asked for more. We were all immediate huge fans of Banh’s banh chung. And I immediately said out loud that I regretted not buying two when we were at the restaurant a couple weeks ago; I had contemplated it, but figured I could always get another banh chung another time, maybe even somewhere else.

Chris and I started talking about schedules for tomorrow. I knew that even if Banh didn’t sell out of their banh chung today that I would be very unlikely to go up there given I have an insane number of meetings on my calendar tomorrow. Chris then grabbed my phone, looked up whether Banh was even open today (it is the first day of Lunar New Year, after all), then had me call them to see if they still had banh chung on hand. I called the restaurant, and they said they still had eight vegetarian banh chung and five meat banh chung left. It was about 5:40; they opened their doors for dinner at 6pm. Chris had already gone into the bedroom to change. He grabbed the OMNY card, his kombucha bottle, and the Trader Joe’s canvas bag and was immediately on his way out. And less than 45 minutes later as I was finishing up Kaia’s shower, he walked through the door.

He came back with not one, not two, but THREE Banh pork-stuffed banh chung. Given the timing, I was pretty sure he did a mad dash to and from when he was off the bus or train. He came back, turned on our bedroom fan for his “summer breeze,” and said he needed to cool down. I took photos of Chris and Kaia with the much coveted and delicious Banh banh chung. Banh’s banh chung has likely ruined all other banh chung in the city for me. I do not think I can ever go back to buying the one at the Vietnamese market ever again. Two of these banh chung immediately got wrapped up to feed the freezer, and would eventually feed our bellies at a later date. The third banh chung was prompted placed in our fridge, to be steamed at some point in the next week or two for very-near-future enjoyment. After all, Lunar New Year technically is not a single day celebration as Gregorian New Year is to the West; Lunar New Year is a weeks long celebration of fireworks, endless feasting, and red envelopes!

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how my husband Chris, on the first day of the Year of the Fire Horse, won the Husband of the Year award. He can be super annoying, stubborn, and painful to deal with at (many) times. But in these moments, he proves that his true love language is acts of service. Though… he will still not admit that this sprint to and from Banh to retrieve three beautifully and lovingly made banh chung was not entirely selfless, as he also loves this work of (edible) art just as much, if not more, than I do. And of course, Kaia Pookie will get her fair share, as well. The whole family benefits from this delicious deed.

Perceptions of commitment and “wealth” in the U.S. vs. elsewhere

A neighbor friend in our building, who I regularly meet with for play dates with our children, goes to France about three to four times a year for vacation. Her partner has family in Strasbourg, and they like to spend time in Paris on most of these trips, as well. She had previously told me that they usually just get an AirBnB in the same neighborhood because they enjoy it, plus she likes to have her own kitchen to cook with local produce and ingredients. I never thought much of it until today when we had a play date at Complete Cafe and Playground, and she confessed that she actually didn’t use AirBnB when she goes to Paris, but instead actually owns a pied a terre in the fifth arrondissement there. She and her partner bought it shortly after their son was born, and they generally are very tight-lipped about it. She said she’s shared that she has this second home with fewer fingers than she has on her hand (outside of family).

I didn’t really mind; whatever friends or colleagues choose to share with me, I leave it at that. I generally don’t care to pry unless there’s some very specific reason to do so. But I did ask her why she didn’t want to share it openly, or initially with me. I told her I obviously don’t look at her any differently. She told me that a) she didn’t want her employer to find out, because they may look at her like she’s less committed to living and working in the U.S. and may flee to work in Paris or somewhere else in Europe instead, and b) she felt a bit subconscious about it because she didn’t want other people to think that she and her partner were more wealthy than they actually are.

My neighbor friend and her husband are from France and Turkey, so I guess their mindset does make sense. But given I am American, I found it a little funny because the truth could not be more opposite from what she believed. Most employers don’t care what property you own, if any. I’ve known enough colleagues who own a second home far away from their home base, so I don’t see this as a problem at all. And secondly, and this is just anecdotal — I feel like when Americans are able to afford and buy a second home, no one is secretive about it, and they’re more than happy to share it with everyone and their grandmother. Americans love sharing and flaunting “wealth.” It’s almost part of the ridiculous American dream to be this way inclined. I just found this to be an interesting perspective.

The Chinese invasion of bakeries and cafes in New York City

Over the last year or so, there have been endless Chinese and Taiwanese bakery, cafe, and bubble tea chains and franchises that have opened in New York City. Because I always look at and “like” these posts on Instagram, Instagram knows what I am interested in. Plus, I am in Manhattan Chinatown almost every weekday to pick Kaia up from school, so I spend a lot of time wandering around the area to see what is new. What’s clear is that seemingly every month (if not week), a new chain/franchise bakery/cafe is opening here. It makes sense given that New York City is the largest city in the U.S., plus we have a massive Asian population. And to top that off, we have multiple Chinatowns! There are the main ones that everyone knows, like Manhattan and Flushing Chinatown. But there are also the burgeoning ones in East Village (!), Elmhurst, Forest Hills, Brooklyn, and even up in the Bronx. And from what I hear, Staten Island is becoming more and more Chinese by the minute.

All of the tea spots and bakeries are known for different things. Tea Pulse already has two locations within a five-minute walking distance of each other in Manhattan Chinatown. Molly Tea, specializing in jasmine tea, still attracts lines at all its locations, both in Manhattan and Flushing. Befine Cha specializes in bamboo oolong with a citrus twist. Tea Pulse is famous for their tea-infused lemonades, such as jasmine lemon, plus their Portuguese-style egg tarts. And of course, the massive Hey Tea is constantly rolling out new drink specials every month, with a test lab right in Times Square. We visited Flushing today, and of course, I had to check off some of the new bakeries on my list. NaiSnow just opened in Flushing in October and has since opened two additional New York City locations in Long Island City and even the Upper West Side (right by Columbia). They are known for having a mix of “healthy” fresh pressed juices and smoothies, plus indulgences like matcha tiramisu and caramel egg tarts. I picked up their matcha tiramisu egg tart today. And while I was waiting for that, Chris and Kaia got into the (quick moving) line for the three-week-old Bao’s Pastry, which is famous for its savory-sweet crispy pork floss cakes with its spongey inside, and their caramel egg tarts. While there since I was already in the line, I got those signature items, plus a single pineapple cake. That single pineapple cake had a pineapple jam filling that was so thick and fibrous that it is likely the only pineapple cake (feng li su) that reminds me of my all-time favorite pineapple cake in Taiwan — from Sunny Hills, which from what I have read, still stands as one of the most premium pineapple cake shops in all of Taiwan. We visited their shop in July 2017, and almost nine years later, I still remember how decadent and luscious that pineapple cake was, from the buttery crumbly outside to the rich, thick, pulpy fruit jam on the inside.

Although I generally avoid lines at restaurants or bakeries, I make exceptions for the places where the lines seem fast moving. And it’s not like we go to Flushing that often — it’s usually twice a year, max. And so I have the maximalist mindset when I go that if I’m going to go, I might as well make my trip worth it and try as many places as I possibly can — or, collect as many tasty treats, both old standbys and new ones, that I can feasibly carry by myself — or with Chris’s help. Who is going to say “no” to treats?