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.

Cantonese style beef stew with daikon and tofu skin 萝卜腐竹牛腩

Growing up in a Cantonese household and with a Cantonese paternal grandma, I was exposed to endless Cantonese delicacies and dishes that I am sad to say, I oftentimes have forgotten about. Some dishes, like Cantonese dim sum, zongzi, or wonton mein have stayed with me as staples in my current eating life. Others have completely disappeared from my consciousness. But then I occasionally get reminded of dishes my grandma either used to make herself or would order out when we went to restaurants, whether that is through seeing pictures and videos on social media or by looking at restaurant menus, and then I am taken back to those delicious moments of food discovery and appreciation.

One of the dishes my grandma never made at home, but my dad always loved ordering for lunch at casual Cantonese restaurants, was Cantonese style beef stew, usually served in a claypot with rice, and almost always with braised daikon. Occasionally, some restaurants would add tofu skins to their stew, but many just had different cuts of beef stew and tendon with a generous sprinkling of bok choy, and always with copious amounts of steamed rice to sop up all the delicious, umami beef stew juices. The stew was always extremely fragrant of five spice powder and star anise. It was comfort food for my dad, and then eventually it became comfort food for me. I rarely order it as an adult, as when I go to Cantonese restaurants, it really hasn’t been top of mind. But occasionally, I will get beef stew as a topping on my wonton mein, or as a small side when ordering takeout. Most places I tried were a bit disappointing — something was lacking, or the quantity of food I got was just too tiny. So I was really happy to find some recipes for this dish developed by recipe developers I follow that made me realize how easy it is to make at home with a little time. Other than the beef stew meat and daikon, I usually have all the other ingredients ready in my pantry, so this recipe was beckoning me to make it! So I “gave it a go” yesterday, and the result far exceeded any version I’ve had in New York to date! Variations of this will be on rotation in our home moving forward. Chris ate some and declared it “not bad, pretty good,” which is his version of a glowing compliment. Kaia did not say anything about the stew, but she did quickly and eagerly eat all the beef stew pieces from her plate during dinner time tonight!

The odds of getting the exact same birthday gift from two different people

As the years go on, gift receiving isn’t as exciting as it once was when you were a child. As a child, getting gifts was what made Christmases and birthdays so sparkly and exciting. You’d always wonder if your parents, siblings, cousins, aunts, uncles, and other family friends would give you things you actually wanted (or never even realized you wanted!). There’s the excitement in the anticipation, then even more excitement in the unwrapping or unveiling of gifts from fancy gift boxes and bags. And then, you’d finally get to enjoy your presents!

As I’ve gotten older, I also have gained more power and control over what I have and own, as well as what I can afford to buy for myself — whether that’s everyday essentials, the occasional indulges through experiences, or true splurge/indulgent items (the latter of which I pretty much never do because… well, Asian guilt/practicality). If I really want something, I can just buy it now. I don’t need to wait for a special occasion or nudge a good friend or Chris to buy it for me. That’s the beauty of earning your own money! Plus, as I’ve gotten older, naturally I’ve just gotten fewer and fewer gifts. I no longer exchange Christmas gifts with almost any friend; I give some very close friends (and their kids) birthday gifts, or treat them to special (higher priced) birthday meals. We don’t really “need” as much stuff as we get older.

So when I decided to have this 40th birthday party for myself, I wasn’t sure what anyone would get me, if anything. I figured some close friends would give me some splurge-worthy items, but I wasn’t sure what. One friend got me a very expensive ticket to see Maybe Happy Ending on Broadway, which I very much appreciated. Another friend got me my favorite Burlap & Barrel spices and Rancho Gordo beans (how could I not have appreciated these?!). But then something unexpected happened: a best friend and Chris’s friend got me the same high-end Shun knife: my friend got me the 8-inch, and Chris’s friend got me the 6-inch. I was floored not only at the generosity of the gifts, but also: how the heck did two people totally unrelated to and unaware of the other get me the same fancy gift…?!

They are technically not the same knife because one is two inches longer than the other, but for me, they are essentially the same. Given my hand size, I am more comfortable using a 6-inch santoku-style knife for everyday cutting and chopping needs. So I felt bad, but I think I will have to ask my friend if she can return the 8-inch she got me… and perhaps replace it with something else splurge-worthy I’d normally never get myself. Maybe it could be a Le Creuset bakeware set? I’m truly grateful for my gifts, especially these really pricey ones that no one ever needed to get me. And I know the way my friend thought about it: she specifically wanted to get me a gift that she knew I’d never buy for myself, but would really appreciate. I’m so grateful and genuinely touched.

Embracing middle-aged-dom by organizing all my Chinese herbs

Yesterday, I spent about an hour labeling glass jars in Chinese and English, and then emptying all my Chinese herbs out of their plastic bags and into the glasses. My herb bag was becoming a total mess, especially once I started buying more around the time my best friend had a baby, and I wanted to make her a few tonics. So I promised myself that once we got back from our month away that I’d finally set aside time to get all these organized. I hated the feeling of disorganization and clutter: I feel like as I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten more annoyed and disgusted by clutter and dirtiness.

Once I got all the labeling done and the herbs into their appropriate jars, I felt this deep sense of satisfaction. This is what it means to get older: to feel satisfied about organization and cleanliness. In some way, it kind of reminded me of all the endless glass jars my grandma used to store in the cupboard at home. She had an even larger and more complex herb collection, which she used very frequently for soups and tonics for all of us. I never thought I’d ever be like her, but here we are with a growing Chinese dried herb collection that resembles hers!

I’ll be using some of these dried herbs for pork bone lotus root soup today — also a soup that she made fairly often when I was growing up. It’s a soup that reminds me of home — soothing, homey, and almost medicinal in a happy, nourishing way.

Le Creuset enameled cast iron – lives up to the hype!

Last night after I hand washed my brand new 3.5-quart Le Creuset braiser with dual lid/grill pan, I decided to use it right away to cook the Italian fennel and pork sausage and mushrooms I was preparing for our pasta today. After briefly heating it up, I added some oil and the sausage to the pan and sautéed it for a bit. I was admiring the little handles on the sides of the braiser and thought I would tap the handle to see how hot it was, and WOW! Even after just a couple minutes on the stove, the handle was nearly burning hot! My Amazon Basics 5-quart Dutch oven, which I’ve had for 7-plus years now, doesn’t get anywhere as hot that quickly (to be fair, that dutch oven cost Chris’s aunt and uncle at the time about $35, and Le Creuset pots and pans usually go for $300+). I guess Le Creuset really does what it’s famous for, which is conducting heat well, evenly, and quickly. I think this brand really does live up to the hype so far. It also seems extremely easy to clean. This is like my new baby now that I have to love and take care of very well! Similar to Kaia being my only human baby, this braiser is my only Le Creuset item, so I need to take extra, extra special care of it.

To be loved is to be challenged

My friend, who has been in a relationship with her boyfriend for over five months now, has been telling me that he’s getting frustrated with her for being too intense and asked her to be “gentler.” In general, she’s a pretty serious, goal-oriented person, and she tends to say what she thinks and says exactly what she means. With him, he’s used to being indirect, passive, “not rocking the boat.” But to my friend and me, we find that quite boring… and meaningless. There’s no point in causing chaos for the sake of it, but if there’s an important topic that needs to be addressed, then just put on your adult pants and talk. Plus, I don’t think you ever really know or understand anyone unless you know what their real opinions are on topics that truly matter.

I was reflecting on my own relationship with Chris and my past romantic relationships with partners. And when my friend and I were discussing it, I told her that I find Chris to be one of the most annoying and exacerbating people I know… But in some funny way, I actually love that about him. All my previous partners just got so boring and mundane after a while; predictability can be a true snoozer. I love that he challenges me, even when it’s just for the sake of it to be devil’s advocate, because it’s kind of entertaining, plus it makes things more interesting. But I also think that when people challenge you, it kind of forces you to firm up your own stance and ensure you aren’t just full of crap. Plus, the chances are high that if you are having these types of exchanges, you tend to understand the other person more. And we all need a little more understanding.

Here’s a funny and recent case in point: For the last 13-plus years, Chris has constantly made fun of Le Creuset enameled cast iron company I like. He says they are overrated, that Amazon Basics made a $30 version of a Dutch oven (that I was gifted by his aunt and uncle and have used every single week since while we’re in town) that was better and cheaper (Le Creuset equivalent goes for about $430 in comparison), that it was just another dumb brand. He also loves to purposely mispronounce the name and call it “the CREW-sit.” Regardless of what he says, I like them a lot and have admired them for decades, but I was always too cheap to buy one for myself. Plus, the items are SO heavy and would require good storage space; space is a premium in our apartment. Tonight, he had Kaia and me open some early Christmas gifts, and lo and behold, a bright orange Le Creuset box was waiting for me. Inside the box was a gorgeous Marseille-blue 3.5-quart braiser with a dual grill pan lid, so the lid can also be used on the stove, as well!

I stroked the pan and admired its beautiful Marseille blue shade. Then I went to hand wash it and almost immediately used it to cook pork and fennel sausage and mushrooms for tomorrow’s pasta. He knew I would love this thing, but he will never a) stop giving me grief over it and b) stop making fun of the brand and mispronouncing it purposely. He’s my challenging baby.

Seven more full days in New York City for the year

Chris and I did some grocery shopping today, but on the light side, since we have only seven more full days at home before leaving for the rest of the year. When I came back with more vegetables and also another pack of gai lan from Chinatown at the end of the day, he looked at me like I was crazy.

“Did you over buy vegetables? I think we have too much,” Chris said to me skeptically. “We’re leaving next Monday!”

I looked at him and smiled. I told him that we will definitely get through all of this, especially since we have no plans to eat out the next week, plus Kaia is not in afterschool care this week, so she’ll be having a full dinner at home each night. Plus, I do not waste vegetables; if needed, it will go cooked into the freezer. But more likely, it will mean bigger servings of vegetables for everyone, which doesn’t hurt anyone. Plus frankly, whenever I serve our meals, I always put way more vegetables on everyone’s plate than Chris does.

It’s always crazy to think that after our Thanksgiving trip in Europe that about a week later we leave for Australia. But it also makes life more adventurous, exciting, and less boring. And of course, Kaia is looking forward to seeing her Suma and Topa again very soon, and being on a plane once again!

Food waste and the problem of having plenty

A friend and I were at lunch the other day, and she was telling me how she was trying to re-mold her semi-new boyfriend into repurposing different foods and leftovers, and to stop throwing out perfectly good food. Like me, she loves cooking and is constantly intrigued by new ingredients and produce she comes across. And also like me, she’s very anti food waste and always trying to make sure she uses everything she has and doesn’t let things go bad. So, it makes sense that she was a bit disturbed when her boyfriend would cook, and he’d throw perfectly good ingredients into the trash bin without a thought. If a recipe called for one cup of diced potatoes, and he happened to have an extra half cup, without hesitation, he’d take the leftover half cup and toss it into his compost bin. He said he didn’t want to “create imbalance in the recipe” by adding too much potato. She immediately told him he was crazy and wasting food, and he could either add those remaining potato cubes into the pot, or just repurpose them for another recipe the next day or so.

“But I don’t have plans to eat anything with potato in it the next day or so,” he countered to her.

“Then throw the potato pieces into the pot!” she raised her voice at him, clearly getting exasperated. “Recipes are just guidelines, but you’re supposed to adjust and tweak as you see fit!”

When I was growing up, I was constantly told I had to finish every last grain of rice on my plate because if I didn’t, I was ungrateful and didn’t realize how hard my parents worked to provide this food. I was also told that when cooking, we should waste nothing — there was always a use for some food we had, and we had to make use of it before it went bad. Letting food rot was not an option. Food cost money, and money was hard to earn. We always ate all our leftover food; if Ed and I didn’t, then our parents would take the leftovers and eat them for lunch at work. I cannot remember a day when either of my parents went to work and actually bought lunch because I always remember seeing them pack their lunches for themselves the night before a work day.

That memory ended up influencing me as an adult: when I was working in an office, I rarely bought lunch out and always brought homemade food in, unless we had a scheduled colleague or team lunch, or at my last in-person company, where lunch was provided and comped by work through Seamless. So, this really ran deep with me. Plus, because I am passionate about food and cooking, I feel personally hurt when I hear about people wasting food thoughtlessly. It feels like money literally going into the trash or drain, which hurts my heart. I also think about all the real people who labored to grow that food, how likely underpaid they all were, and how their work just goes to waste when their perfectly good food is thrown out. That money could have been spent on something else, or that food could have fed someone who really needed (and would have appreciated) it. One friend said to me, “Do you really need to eat that a third day in a row? You make enough money to not have to worry about that and can eat something new.” I retorted back that it didn’t matter how much money I make or have; I am anti food waste. It is the principle that is bad, and food waste is a huge problem in our overly privileged society where food is seemingly plentiful. I don’t want to contribute to society’s problems more than I already inadvertently do.

Eating out is never quite the same when you’re a maniacal home cook

Yesterday during our play date lunch, I chose a general Thai place that was walking distance from Dumbo Space Club because I wanted something that was walking distance and also had enough space to accommodate six of us. It would definitely not be a place I’d choose if it was for me, or for me, Chris, and Kaia, but I figured it would have something for everyone at the table. One of the moms chose a green curry with chicken, which I probably would not have ordered since I just made green curry last week and really liked it. When the green curry came to the table, I already had a feeling I wasn’t going to love it: it was more white in color and not very green at all. The chicken used was just white meat (ugh, less flavor and far less moist), and there was basically very little flavor other than coconut milk in it. This green curry made me sad because it wasn’t anywhere as vibrant as the green curry I had made earlier this week (with the best tips from Pailin from Hot Thai Kitchen!!), and of course, it wasn’t zippy or spicy in the way my homemade green curry was. In fact, I don’t think I can ever order green curry at a restaurant ever again because I know exactly how to make it just the way I want it at home.

I shared this with my friend who cooks a lot, and she told me she feels exactly the same way. And funnily enough, she also had the exact same experience with green curry at a lunch recently with another friend.

“I didn’t want to sound like an ass to (my friend), but that curry was so bland and boring,” she told me. “My curry at home was a hundred times better! It’s just the truth!”

Usually when I order food out, I want it to be food that is not food I know how to make and make well at home, or using ingredients that I don’t easily have access to, or that is so laborious that I just have to leave it to the experts. The other moms enjoyed the green curry, and I’m happy they did. But I’d never willingly order this dish at a restaurant ever again.

The rebranding of “white whole wheat flour”

I recently started noticing “golden wheat flour” by King Arthur in the baking aisle at Whole Foods. I previously always bought the standard Whole Foods brand whole wheat flour for use in baking and making Kaia “healthy” treats, but this caught my eye. In the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, Whole Foods always has sales in its baking aisle, so I stopped in earlier this week to restock on all-purpose and whole wheat flour. I decided to give the “golden wheat flour” a try.

I dug more into what “golden wheat flour” was, and I found out that about two years ago, King Arthur rebranded their “white whole wheat flour” to “golden wheat whole wheat flour.” It is 100 percent whole grain flour milled from hard white wheat, which gives it a lighter color and a milder flavor compared to traditional whole wheat flour made from red wheat (also from a branding standpoint, it’s very hard to wrap one’s head around “white whole wheat” because that sounds almost oxymoronic). This is definitely a welcome addition for those of us like me who are trying to incorporate more whole grains, less refined starches, and also want to increase fiber and nutritional profiles of what we are baking.

My first use of the golden wheat flour was in this week’s challah. I did 50 percent all purpose, 50 percent golden wheat. The color of the dough was definitely a bit lighter than when I used whole wheat as 50 percent. It is definitely on brand with the re-branding: the dough is very much “golden” in color! After shaping, proofing, shaping, and baking, the loaves came out in a beautiful brown golden color. And once I sliced into the loaves and had some, I knew golden wheat flour would be my go-to moving forward for whole grain flour. It has a slight nutty flavor, and it definitely is not as “heavy” or “hard” as traditional whole wheat. I could even see myself using this in cookies! I still want to use spelt flour, but I’ll likely use it in things like pancakes and quick breads as opposed to yeast breads like challah or brioche moving forward.