“I wanna go to [Australia] where it’s summer now!”

To my pleasant surprise, even though it was extremely cold on Sunday going to and from the VHC Tet Lunar New Year Festival in Brooklyn, Kaia actually didn’t complain too much about the cold or walking. On both sides of the subway ride, we only walked about 6-7 minutes, so it really wasn’t that bad… even when the icy winds hit us. But while on the train, Kaia had some thoughts to share about the cold.

“Mama, when it’s winter here in New York, it’s summer at Suma and Topa’s house, right?” she asked me with wide eyes.

“Yes, baby… when it’s winter here in the Northern Hemisphere, it’s the opposite in the Southern Hemisphere where Suma and Topa are in Australia, so it’s summer,” I confirmed to her.

“Mama! I don’t like winter,” Kaia said with big frown on her face. “When it’s winter here, I wanna go to Suma and Topa’s where it’s summer! I wanna go to Melbourne because I don’t like the cold!”

This conversation was funny to me for a few reasons: 1) I love that she’s putting two and two together, beginning to understand the differences in seasons where we call home versus where her paternal grandparents are, 2) I also love (and laugh at) the fact that she thinks she can just snap her fingers and go to Australia during their summer time just because she wants to. She has no idea behind the financial costs of flying at high times of the year, of flying in general. She also doesn’t understand that it’s a commitment, that it’s a privilege to be able to have a mother who can work remotely for that amount of time and not have her job be in jeopardy (it’s also a privilege, in today’s day and age with soaring costs of living, to have a father who lives a “life of service [leisure]”, but that’s another topic for another day). How many four-year-olds are going to have the luxury of experiencing life in two hemispheres regularly… of flying on a long-haul flight from New York to Melbourne every year of their life thus far, and getting to see how amazing it is to escape the bitter cold of winter here for the summer there? Most Australians in New York I’ve met and known to date, at most, go back to Australia every other year… and that’s on the higher end. Almost no one I know other than Chris insists on going back every single year.

It’s going to be a work in progress to make sure that my only child doesn’t grow up to be some silver spoon, entitled child, who snubs other people for not seeing as much of the world as she has, or for being less worldly.

Vietnamese Heritage Center Tet Lunar New Year Festival 2026

Today, I took Kaia to the Vietnamese Heritage Center (VHC) Tet Lunar New Year Festival, which was held at the Brooklyn Botanic Ballroom. VHC changes up their location every year since they have to rent event space. I first learned about VHC two years ago right before their scheduled Lunar New Year Festival that year (thanks to my NYC Modern Asian Moms group, the second best group I ever joined on Facebook after my local Buy-Nothing Group!), and unfortunately, the event had already sold out before I could even consider buying tickets. I remember that year, it was held at a really convenient location, somewhere around Union Square or Chelsea. Last year, they held it at some remote location out in Brooklyn, which would have required a 30-minute walk after we got off the nearest train. Given this is obviously held in winter, I really didn’t want to deal with that walk even if I did push Kaia in a stroller. So this year, when I saw that it was at the ballroom just eight minutes’ walk away from the nearest subway stop, I knew I wanted to sign us up. Kaia has had lots of exposure to Chinese culture and Chinese traditions around Lunar New Year, but she’s never been to a Vietnamese cultural event. And so, I really wanted this to happen. I went in knowing that this weekend would be around -8 F with windchill, but I figured it would be fine since the walk on both ends would be relatively short, and this was a fully indoor event. Chris decided not to come because he doesn’t like cultural events (“Why do I have to go to this?” he asked me, looking puzzled. “I just need the food!”), so I asked my friend if he wanted to take his wife and toddler, and they came.

The event was far more diverse than I thought it would be: there were plenty of non-Vietnamese, non-Asian people in attendance. Lots of non-Asians were wearing male and female versions of ao dais. They had a restaurant cater the food for the event, plus they had different Vietnamese cultural vendors, ranging from banh chung/banh Tet vendors, banh mi/Vietnamese coffee/sugar cane juice vendors, Vietnamese photography, books, and even specific artworks like dioramas and paintings for sale. For hands-on activities for both kids and adults, they had a Banh Tet (Vietnamese Lunar New Year sticky rice) workshop, face painting for the kids, a Lunar New Year card / art making table, and Vietnamese dice games. There were also some performances like an ao dai fashion show, a traditional Vietnamese fan dance, and of course, a lion dance. The whole event ended with a li xi / hong bao / red envelope ceremony, where all the littles could line up to get their own red envelope, each filled with a crisp dollar bill, all sponsored by New York Life.

We arrived early, so Kaia was lucky and got to be the very first kid who had her face painted. She chose cherry blossoms, so the artist painted them on both of her upper cheeks. She enjoyed her noodles for lunch, as well as some arts and crafts. And probably her favorite thing to do was to run around, scope people out, and play with random new friends she made. She kept on asking me about Vietnamese this and Vietnamese that. And she said that a lot was like what she saw at school. So it was nice to see her connecting the dots of what she saw here versus the Chinese versions of Lunar New Year traditions.

I never learned much about Chinese or Vietnamese culture until college, when I really started embracing it and proactively learning about the traditions. It’s easy to eat the food; it’s an additional step to learn why all these foods are important, what they symbolize, and how they contribute to one’s culture. I hope Kaia learns and embraces all parts of her many cultures far earlier than I ever did. I hope all these experiences I expose her to will help in some small way or form.

Georgian cooking class at Red Inside Culinary

Last night, I attended a Georgian cooking class at Red Inside Culinary, a cozy little cooking school kitchen in the West Village. Chris had gifted me the class as a Christmas gift, so this was already scheduled long in advance. I was really looking forward to it since I’d never before made anything Georgian or from that region of the world, so this would definitely be new territory for me.

As soon as I walked in, I was already liking this far better than the cooking class/school he gifted me last year: there was a large kitchen with ample counter space, a separate food prep area, and a beautifully appointed dining table that felt super cozy, like it could be someone’s real and quaint dining room in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the West Village. The chef/teacher, Dona, who was born and raised in Georgia, had done her due diligence with food prep and arrangement. She emphasized constantly that food prep and “mise en place” were integral in making sure you were managing time well and had food ready by a certain time; you can’t really afford to not be on time if you were serving a meal at a set time, whether that’s to guests at home or to paying guests in a restaurant. She was also just very friendly, bubbly, and energetic, which is what everyone wants in a cooking instructor. I also loved that this class had just six people in it, so it was easy for everyone to talk openly and get to know each other. Everyone got to participate in making all components of the planned dishes, and we also ate and left in a timely manner (we were all out of there just after 9pm and finished eating by 8:30pm!).

I officially learned a few things about Georgian cooking that I’d guessed before based on the many Georgian meals I’d previously enjoyed, but now it was coming straight from a Georgian: the three key ingredients in Georgian cooking are 1) pomegranates, 2) walnuts, and 3) grapes. Though I would also argue that what really *made* our spinach balls (pkhali) and walnut pesto stuffed eggplant rolls (nigvziani badrijani) were the spices we used, which included an interesting spicy red salt mix I’d never heard of, blue fenugreek (which, Dona was quick to point out, is not the same as Indian fenugreek; it smells nothing like it, either!), plus a Georgian spice blend called khmeli suneli that she typically just picks up when she goes back to Georgia (she said we could now find them in Kalustyan’s, just that it would be far more expensive). The eggplant rolls and spinach balls we made were so delicious; I ate way more of them than I thought I would and easily could have just eaten those and been fully satisfied. They were also extremely easy to make — as long as you had the right ingredients. I may need to go on a search for this khmeli suneli spice blend and add it to my endless spices just to get the pleasure of making this myself at home.

We also made khachapuri (Georgian open cheese bread, often times called boat bread), imeruli (the “closed” version of Georgian cheese bread), roasted cornish hens with a silky, luxurious garlic sauce, and a concord grape granita topped with crushed, salted, and toasted pistachios. It was all so simple, but so delicious. And it tasted even better with two different Georgian red wines, one sweet and one dry. All of these dishes would be easy for me to replicate at home. Now, I just need the recipes and that khmeli suneli spice blend to make this all happen!

Yellow card goes missing; and a silver lining in the world of American healthcare

Last summer when we went to South America, Chris got into a tizzy because he couldn’t find our official yellow cards, showing proof that would be recognized by any government around the world that we were both vaccinated against yellow fever. In the end, thankfully, we didn’t need them, but he still wanted to figure out where the cards went. Neither of us ever found them; we have no idea where they went or how they would get lost, especially since both of us are pretty anal with documents of that nature. So he suggested that I at least try to reach out to my travel medicine clinic in the city to see if they still had my record.

I called them yesterday and asked if they still had my record; luckily they somehow did, even though they told me they typically discard records after ten years. I had my yellow fever vaccine done in May 2014, so that’s almost 12 years ago now. I did that in preparation for our Brazil trip, which was in June 2014. They told me that to fill out the yellow card, I’d just need to stop by their office during regular hours and pay $35 for the card. I came in today with my credit card ready.

Not only did they already have the yellow card ready and filled out for me at the desk, but they also told me a piece of unexpected news: they asked the doctor about my yellow card, and they told the front desk to waive my $35 yellow card fee completely. I was floored; how often do you get any fee waived regarding anything American healthcare related? Most doctors, facilities, and health insurances just want to take everything they can get for you. I just couldn’t believe it. I thanked them profusely, secured my new and free official yellow card in my purse, and walked out.

It’s so nice to have a pleasant surprise like that in the world of U.S. healthcare, which is one of the worst parts of the U.S. I left the travel medicine office feeling hopeful.

The new year: A time to declutter — starting with the kitchen

After acquiring several new kitchen items, I realized that it was time to take a long, hard look at everything my kitchen had and see where I could start culling items. Given I have new baking pieces, I decided to give away one of my rectangular glass baking pans. I stared at it for a little bit: I bought this in a set with a larger glass baking pan from Kmart at Astor Place (RIP to that Kmart!); it was one of the very first kitchen items I had purchased when I moved into my Elmhurst, Queens, apartment during the summer of 2008. That summer, I also purchased two cheap but sturdy metal loaf pans and a nine-inch shallow cake pan from Kmart, as well. One of the loaf pans and the cake pan have been wearing; I knew the time had come to finally recycle them. I got 17.5 years of use out of these items, so they had lived a good life.

I posted the glass pan on my local Buy-Nothing group, as well as several like-new knives with knife guards. I didn’t realize how popular these items would be. So many people were in need of baking pans and knives! Or maybe it’s just so cold right now in New York that all people can do to keep warm in their apartments is to cook! I was able to get rid of them all quite quickly – far quicker than I had imagined.

I hope they go to good homes and get used often. It’s in these moments that I really embrace Buy-Nothing, our circular economy: One woman’s trash is another man’s riches. There’s no reason for me to hoard things that I will be unlikely to ever use again. So I’m happy to get these items put to use!

The growing Le Creuset collection

I am now 40 years, two weeks old. For most of my life, I’ve looked longingly and with a bit of foam at the corner of my mouth at Le Creuset and Staub bake and cookware — you know, those glorious enameled cast iron dutch ovens, pots, and stone bakeware, all handmade in France, that you always see in fancy kitchenware sections and shops. Just the variety of bright colors would get to even the most indifferent-to-cookware people. Although I always admired them, I could never bring myself to buy even a single piece for myself. It felt like too much of an indulgence for me. I tend to be a lot more practical with kitchen items. So instead, I accepted a $35 Amazon Basics five-quart dutch oven from Chris’s aunt and uncle as an early Christmas gift in 2018 when they visited us, and I insisted to myself that I never needed Le Creuset or Staub anything. For comparison sake, a 5.5-quart Le Creuset round dutch oven currently goes for a whooping $435! So there’s clearly a massive markup there. So until this past December, I owned zero Le Creuset or Staub pieces. Hell, I bought a five-quart Staub dutch oven for our ex-nanny and never even bought myself so much as a single Le Creuset ramekin!

In December before we left for Australia, Chris presented me with an early Christmas gift: a Le Creuset 3.5-quart dual braiser and grill pan in a Marseille blue color; the grill pan also acts as a lid for the braiser. I was excited at the acquisition of this item, as it would be my very first and only Le Creuset item. I loved the color immediately. But I wasn’t sure how much I’d use it given I have most of the pots and pans that I use a lot. This braiser also seemed quite shallow at just 3.5 quarts, so other than pasta, I am still not sure what I will “braise” in it. But I knew I’d find ways to use it because after waiting almost 40 years, did you think I’d actually consider giving up my first and only Le Creuset…?!

Then we had the funny Shun knife debacle around my birthday. My friend kindly accepted the return of the eight-inch Shun knife. In its place, she got me a four-piece Le Creuset Heritage line stoneware baking set — one loaf pan, one fluted pie pan, one square baking dish, and one oval dish — all in Marseille blue to match my current braiser-grill pan duo. Of all these dishes, I will likely use the loaf pan the most since I make a decent number of loaf breads in a year. But all the dishes are sturdy, gorgeous, and heat evenly. They would all look beautiful simply as serving dishes. And they could easily reheat in different methods. I laid them all out on the dining table after opening them yesterday and just stared at them. I had the same feeling I do whenever we return from a Costco trip: I felt RICH. Once, I was poor and had no Le Creuset. And then, out of nowhere, I have (technically) six pieces! I am rich now!

Winter Storm Fern on Sunday, a Snow Day (no school) Monday, and evolving views on snow

In the winter of 2004, it was my first real, snowy winter that I’d ever experienced in my life. I was 18, in my first-year at Wellesley, and we had a beautiful snow fall that blanketed the entire suburban campus. I was preparing for my first real New England winter: I had bought a thick winter coat and a pair of big, bulky, waterproof snow boots. I was so excited to see the snow fall. My first time watching the snowfall, I really did feel like I was in a snow globe. And when the snow fall stopped, my friend and I immediately went outside to Severance Green, this vast lawn with a huge hill, for some sledding (using dining hall trays we temporarily stole from inside). We had to take advantage of the snow while it was still light and fluffy, and before it froze over into hard (and uncomfortable) ice.

I couldn’t believe how much fun it was to be in the snow for the first time. I was giggling like crazy. A friend and I made snowballs and threw them at fellow classmates. We all made snow angels and went down the hill “sledding” more times than we could count. My friend took lots of photos of my first real snow experience. She’s originally from Arkansas and had seen snow countless times, so she was thoroughly amused at how child-like and glee-filled I was to experience this all for the first time.

Since then, I do not have the same excited feeling about snow. I do enjoy watching it fall… while I am in the comfort of my heated home with a hot beverage in hand. I have very little desire to go outside and play with it. I get grossed out by how the snow is plowed in New York City and how that prevents me from getting into cars when I need to, and the black ice is terrifying to me. I know several colleagues who have had very painful falls from black ice in New York; one of whom actually broke her femur and had to have a very intense (and likely expensive) surgery that kept her out of the office for almost two months. But I do know Kaia likes it. I like how she gets excited by snow, creating snow balls, and getting snow thrown at her. It’s cute and funny. But outside of her enjoyment of it, I stay away from it. Maybe that’s just me getting old and senile. Or, what is more likely the case: I just want to avoid freezing temperatures as much as possible. And if I am making snowmen or snowballs, my hands are just going to freeze over.

Winter Storm Fern came as expected yesterday. The Department of Education announced early on Sunday that schools would be closed the next day (today). Given Kaia is in 4K/Pre-K, she has no ‘remote learning’ option, so this just meant we were with her the whole day and had to find ways to entertain her between work.

I tried to make a couple snow balls and throw them at her this early afternoon when we came back from lunch. It was cute to see her laugh and try to escape. But my hands got so frigid so quickly that it almost felt like the numbness was going to lead to frost bite in seconds. But even with Kaia, while she gets amused by seeing snow falling and seeing snow piled up, we can tell she doesn’t love it. She has said repeatedly she hates the cold. And how can we blame her given we 100 percent agree with her hatred of the bitter cold?

The mental load of cooking and managing perishable and pantry ingredients, and food as a love language

A few months ago, I told Chris that sometimes, despite the fact that I obviously enjoy cooking and food, it can feel like a burden to keep track of all my ingredients — what we have versus what we need, what we’re low on, and then figure out what we need to top up. For example, because I have food ingredients spread across several areas of the apartment due to limited space and no central pantry, I didn’t realize that I actually still had four pounds of dried Garofalo pasta in various shapes; these packages were hiding behind some of his Australian snacks in the side “pantry” we created by the laundry. So because of this, I went to Trader Joe’s and purchased two pounds of dried Italian pasta in other shapes. It wasn’t a big deal because these are dried pantry staples that don’t go bad, but it still annoyed me. So Chris politely told me in the nicest way possible (which is impressive for him given he can be very blunt and snarky) that maybe, I could consider “making simpler food.”

I stared at him as though he told me that I should “go back to China.” What the hell kind of a solution is that? I don’t want to eat blander food, and I love the fact that we have so much variety in this house. I relish that our pantry is well stocked enough so that I can make various types of Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Indian, Italian, American-esque, and Middle Eastern dishes whenever I feel like it and just need to get some fresh produce to make it happen. There’s no way that I could possibly make “simpler” food because I just wouldn’t be as happy or satisfied. Nor would our gut biomes be as diverse.

Since we’ve got back, I scrolled through my camera roll of a few of the things I made (I don’t photograph the everyday things like roasted or sauteed vegetables most of the time because they’re so regular), and this is what it looks like: Sichuan-style stir-fried chicken, mushrooms, and vegetables; lobia masala (Punjabi black-eyed pea curry), Cantonese-style braised tofu and egg; Pork rib and lotus root soup; tahini granola, di san xian (Dongbei-style stir fried eggplant, potato, and bell peppers); kung pao style stir fried lotus root and peanuts; Cantonese-style beef stew with daikon and tofu skins; turkey chili (using my new gifted Burlap and Barrel ancho, pasilla, and guajillo chili powders). Tomorrow, I’ll be making vegan creamy mushroom pasta (with silken tofu as the secret “creamy” ingredient)! The food this month has leaned heavily Chinese, but it’s also because for whatever reason (maybe because I’m officially middle aged now?!), I’ve had cravings for food of my childhood, hence the beef stew and the lotus root/pork rib soup. But even if most of it is Chinese, it’s still a pretty eclectic variety. We don’t do “pasta Mondays” or “mashed potato Fridays” or whatever regular theme that a lot of families I hear about do where both parents are working (or leading a “life of service”) and need to minimize the mental load of daily family dinner. I like that it’s different, and it also exposes Kaia to endless variety to keep her palate guessing.

And at the end of the day, I love cooking for those I love, not just myself. I like knowing I nourish Chris and Kaia, plus any family and friends that come visit us. Food is one of my love languages. So while sometimes friends can make fun of me and tell me they never would guess I’d be such a traditional mom or wife, I’d like to look at it a different way: this is just how I show I care and love, and so I do it because I love.

Winter is cold, and getting even colder, plus a secret love of boots

For years here in New York, winter hasn’t been a true “winter.” We haven’t had much snow relatively speaking due to global warming. December through March has been a milder weather period; it has always been cold, but just not as freezing as we expect. Snow has been sparse, so Kaia has had very few times to make and throw snow balls or build a snowman. But this winter, it has most definitely been cold. It snowed last weekend; the temperatures have been in the ‘teens and low twenties Fahrenheit. And Kaia is NOT a fan. As she is becoming more and more verbal by the day, she’s definitely making her opinions known.

She has protested almost every other day of boot wearing. “I don’t wanna wear boots! I wanna wear shoes!” She hates the high-top nature of the winter boots I bought her; she probably dislikes how her ankles can feel trapped in them. I can relate to that feeling, but I have since gotten used to wearing boots since moving to the East Coast.

Kaia told us multiple times this past week, “I don’t like winter. I want spring and summer. I want to wear sandals! I want it to be warm!” We agree with her; we also tell her that neither of us likes winter much, either. But winter does not last forever, and before she knows it, spring will be here, and she can shed all her thick layers and boots and wear regular shoes and dresses again.

I’ve adjusted to living in a four-season part of the country and world. I actually don’t mind it much. It does require more different types of clothing (and a very different skincare regimen in winter due to dryness!), but now that I’ve been here almost 18 years, this is my long-time current “normal.” One thing I have secretly embraced but never said out loud is that the best thing about living in a four-season place is that… I actually love boots! For someone who doesn’t like winter, this sounds kind of funny. But to be fair, most of my boots are autumn/winter boots, so it doesn’t necessarily have to be freezing cold to wear them. I still remember back in 2003 when the Wellesley recruiter came out from Boston to San Francisco, and she told me that she had at least ten pairs of boots — all for different types of cold/weather, occasion, and environment! My mind was boggled at the time when she shared this, but now, I completely understand. I myself have three different pairs of dressy boots, along with one pair of super casual, long Uggs (which I basically live in when it’s cold but not wet outside), one pair of rain/waterproof boots, and one pair of fall duck-style boots (which really need to be retired, after ten-plus years of wear, because I found out while in Denmark that one shoe has a hole in it!). So I have seven pairs of boots myself, which is kind of hilarious. I love all types of boots: I like the leather boots, the suede ones, the heeled ones, the flat ones. I like the Chelsea style boots, the tall knee-high ones, the slouch style boots, and even the chunky combat style ones. I could easily waste an hour on Nordstrom’s website staring at all their boots and wondering which ones would be comfortable and still look good in whatever weather. But then I think that if we end up moving to a warmer weather place, how often would I really wear all these boots, if at all?

Kaia doesn’t currently share my love of boots, but who knows — maybe she will embrace them as she realizes that you absolutely need these in cold weather climates. Or maybe she will shun them and refuse to ever live in a cold weather place ever again.

“Maybe you can do this every year now!”

I was telling a colleague about my birthday party after she asked. She saw the pictures and videos I posted on Instagram and was telling me how amazing the food presentation looked, and she said she wasn’t surprised I’d have such a crazy spread given it was my 40th. I told her I’d actually never thrown myself a real birthday party before this past Saturday; it took only 40 years for me to plan and host my own birthday party. I told her that planning it was so easy and fun, made especially smooth by the restaurant manager at Patok by Rach. And so she said to me, half jokingly, “So, this means that you’ll do a birthday party every year now, right?”

It’s not an awful idea. Though I would be unlikely to book out an entire restaurant in the next year or so for a non-milestone birthday year.. or pay for it all. But when I think about it, the focus would be less on the fact that it’s my birthday, but more an excuse to get people together. Whenever Chris or my friends would groan about things like bridal or baby showers, my response would always be that it’s far less about “showering” someone with gifts, and much more about just having togetherness, which no one does as much of anymore. Since the pandemic, people have led far more isolated lives, whether it’s because they live farther from people they care about, or because they simply have no desire to initiate get-togethers. Vivek Murthy, the former U.S. Surgeon General and an internal medicine doctor, has said in a podcast I listened to that the biggest epidemic he’s worried about… is loneliness. And it would be so easy for us to resolve that by being less formal or rigid about having our houses perfectly cleaned or planning get-togethers with extensive menus or programming months in advance; we can be more spontaneous with some friends and family and just lay out some crackers and cheese or pizza, and get people together just for the sake of it. And it would create warmth and connection just like that.

So who knows – maybe I’ll do something more casual and simple like that for a future birthday of mine if I am so inclined. It could even be a cupcake party — Kaia would love it!