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!

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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.

The toilet mannerisms of my 4-year-old child

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When discussing parenting, especially during the early years, Chris used to always say that what people always get grossed out about — changing diapers — isn’t actually gross at all when it’s your own child. Their pee and poops are just like your own pee and poop, so it’s not a big deal at all. You take care of it, you clean the baby’s bottom, and then you move onto the next task. It’s just something that has to be done.

Like most adults, I like my privacy when I am in the bathroom and well, on the toilet. I don’t love it when Chris occasionally walks in to grab something if I am using the toilet. I prefer that he stay outside. But when Kaia comes in, it’s no big deal to me; she’s my baby, and she just wants to be with me. So I embrace that. In her pre- and potty training days, we read that it was a good thing to have an “open door” policy when on the toilet with our child because it would normalize using the potty to her. So we always did this, and we are still like this with her now that she’s pretty much fully potty trained.

What she does a lot when she’s in the bathroom with me while I’m on the toilet is that she loves to hug and be held by me. As soon as she sees that I’m on the toilet, she runs right up to my knees, throws her arms around me, and then holds me tight. And then she usually does this “Hmmm!” sound that is almost like a sigh, but not. She does this while we’re in our home bathrooms. She especially loves to do this with me when we are in bathrooms outside our home. And she is most especially clingy when we are in restaurant restrooms that have a hand dryer (she is still terrified of hand dryers and repeats over and over, “I don’t want mummy to use hand dryer!”).

Then, assuming I am doing a poop (hey, everyone has to poop!), she likes to take a look at the toilet bowl after I’m done and make an assessment of the bowel movement. Sometimes, she will whisper to me, “Is it a little one?” Other times, she will peer into the toilet, giggle loudly, and yell, “Mama, it’s a BIG one!” And then she will insist I flush it immediately, then squeal as she says, “Mama, flush it away! Bye bye, poop! Bye bye!”

Of course, if anyone else did this, it would be completely disgusting and pretty hideous. And well, it would never even be allowed to happen. But with Kaia Pookie, she has her ways with us. So, I let her enjoy her innocence and youth, and I enjoy that she loves to always be with me — even when I’m on the freaking toilet. One day soon enough, she will realize that this is kind of gross, and then she will stay the heck away from me when I’m on the toilet (or even in the bathroom in general). So, I’ll enjoy this type of togetherness while it lasts.

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

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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

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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?

East Village – still one of the most fun and exciting places in New York City

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When I was young, green, naive, and 22, I thought I’d move to New York City and “live the life” by having an apartment in the East Village. Very quickly, I got the rude awakening that living in the East Village would not be as glamorous as I thought it would be, as it’s an area of the city that is notorious for having the teeniest, tiniest apartments possible. Plus, for those shoebox sized living spaces, I’d be paying an inordinate amount of money for the “privilege” to live there. I still remember when my friend and to-be roommate and I viewed a couple apartments in the neighborhood, and my jaw dropped when I saw one “kitchen” with a miniature, dorm-sized refrigerator in it. As soon as I saw that sorry excuse for a fridge, not to mention the apartment unit in general, I knew there was no way we could stomach living in this area and had to branch out — way out.

It’s okay, though. I honestly feel little loss there. I spent many Thursdays, Fridays and weekends hanging out in the East Village in my twenties and thirties. And though I never lived anywhere close to the East Village, I’ve always loved it and still always love going there. There are always fun nooks and crannies, holes-in-the wall dining spots I enjoy. The street art is alive and well; so are all the drugs and weed. It has some amazing bakeries and cafes. Oftentimes, many of the most interesting new restaurants and bakeries will open there and beckon. And the vibe there is forever fun. It doesn’t matter whether I am 22 or 40, but I will always love this neighborhood and never get sick of it.

I went down there yesterday to get coffee with a friend at a little Asian-owned cafe that specializes in fruit coffee, Not As Bitter. And it totally looks like it would be in the East Village: the outside is all black and textured. If you didn’t know any better, you’d look at it from the outside and think it was a bar or speakeasy. But when you walk in, it’s got cafe vibes, little tables that invite friendly chatter, and a beautiful line up of house-baked croissants and cookies. I had a durian-coconut coffee, while my friend had a grape-skin cold brew. We shared a pistachio orange blossom cookie flecked with large grains of sea salt. These are the types of interesting eats and drinks that always keep me coming back to the East Village – -and also keep my “to try” pins quite ample on my NYC food Google map.

Lunar New Year preschool performance and lunch party

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Today was Kaia’s Lunar New Year performance and lunch party, to which parents were all invited. This year, Chris and I both came; it’s her last year of preschool as well as her last year at this school. Plans have not been finalized as to where she will be going to kindergarten, so I’m not even sure if she will have any Lunar New Year performances or activities at her school next year. So I insisted to Chris that we both attend.

Just a week ago, I scored Kaia a new size 4T qipao / cheongsam via our Buy Nothing group, so I was excited to get her a Chinese cultural dress just in time for her Lunar New Year performance. She wore it today for the performance, and even did her little dance in a head dress that they made at school. It was interesting to watch her dance this year, especially when I remember what she did last year. Frankly last year, while she did do some of the movements, she was extremely shy performing in front of a large crowd of parents, and so she didn’t dance very much. This year, she did almost all the movements the way (I think) she was intended to. She definitely looked a lot more confident this year, and she was happy to dance, using all limbs. But unfortunately, the entire performance (of kids ages 2-4) was overshadowed by a wee 2-year-old girl, who was crying hysterically the entire time. Kaia also seemed to get a bit distracted by this other child’s crying, so she kept facing the direction of that kid almost the entire time. So unfortunately, my videos of the performance are marred by this. I guess I can always watch these videos and remember hysterical and screaming little Jenny!

After the performance, the teachers re-arranged the classroom so that tables were set up so we could all sit down and eat. As is usually the case, the teachers served the children first, and then the parents self served. The funny thing I always notice when the teachers serve the kids is that they tend to load up on the carbs with a side of proteins; they put pretty much no noticeable vegetables on the kids’ plates. So when I went to serve myself, I added some yu choy from the vegetarian yi mian (longevity noodles) to my plate. As soon as Kaia saw the long stems of green, she immediately yelled out and pointed at them, insisting she wanted some. She ended up taking almost all my yu choy and eating it nearly all at once (she also took some off of Chris’s plate). I had to go back and get myself some more yu choy. The teachers and parents around us all marveled at Kaia eating her vegetables as though it was just so incredible!

Homemade milk bread rolls

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Several months ago, I successfully made a loaf of Japanese milk bread. I originally attempted this during the pandemic, but I didn’t have bread flour and only had all-purpose, and the bread was completely wrong — not the fluffy, airy, super moist bread that you think of when you hear of Japanese milk bread. When I finally attempted it again last year and succeeded, I knew I had to make this bread more often. It’s so satisfying to make, and as long as you have the right ingredients (as in, bread flour for higher gluten development, dry milk powder, and instant yeast as opposed to dry active yeast), then it’s pretty much fool-proof. While cooking and baking (desserts) have always been fun and satisfying for me, baking yeast breads has a whole different level of satisfaction for me. I love every part of the process — measuring out the ingredients, mixing and kneading the dough, watching the two rises, and baking. I look at every bread I’ve made as though it were my little baby — being made, grown, and developed. Tonight, I baked up the milk bread rolls after mixing and kneading the dough last night. I started mixing after I put Kaia to bed last night. She knew I was in the kitchen and kept calling out to me.

“Whatcha doing, mama?” she called out from her bed. “Are you cooking?”

I went back to her bed to settle her down and try to get her to close her eyes. “Mama is making bread, baby!” I said to her. “If you’re good, then maybe you can have some when it’s ready!”

Kaia loves “soft bread.” She loves to remind me of this. When she says this, she means that she loves soft, fluffy bread with a tender crumb — brioche, challah, and milk bread are all in this category. She also does not like a crunchy toast the way I do. Are these the most nutritious breads? No. But they are deeply satisfying to make and eat. And I always get excited whenever my baby enjoys anything I make with my own hands.

Speaking of nutrition, though, I was thinking about this recipe developer/cookbook author I follow and love, who is currently pregnant and was diagnosed early on with gestational diabetes. While I’m sure this was frustrating for her as someone who loves food, one interesting thing she shared was that when she bakes her own bread from scratch, her blood sugar levels do not spike. But when she eats bread not made by her (so bought outside), her blood sugar goes crazy. If you know of anyone or have yourself had gestational diabetes, you’ll know that in dealing with this during pregnancy, you have to prick yourself at least once or twice every day and carefully monitor your blood sugar level to ensure it doesn’t go over a certain amount. So when I heard that homemade bread didn’t spike her blood sugar, I felt a bit better about my love of making these “soft breads” that are not made from whole wheat or whole grain flours. Though i will say openly that I do do slightly sacrilegious things and add whole wheat flour to my brioche and challah to increase the nutritional profile.

I was almost 40 years old when I discovered glass nail files

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I’ve had a nail and cuticle picking habit since I was about 12 years old. I have a feeling that some of it is genetic, as both my dad and Ed are nail and cuticle pickers. I tried all kinds of things to resolve this: I tried different nail oils and creams. I cut and filed my nails down really short (which is actually more hygienic given I cook so much). Chris and my friend even yelled at me regularly when they’d catch me picking. Nothing ever helped other than getting manicures, which tended to get very expensive and is a huge time commitment. There was a period in my mid-twenties when I actually did my own nails regularly in between having different vendor partners pay for manicures. But then I got too impatient and let it go. I realized that if I liked the way my nails looked (perfect, polished, manicured), then I wouldn’t be tempted to pick at them. And then once Kaia was born, the idea of doing my own nails or going to a salon just seemed like too much — too much time, too much money, too much dedication. Plus, regular nail polish doesn’t last long when you have kid responsibilities and cook regularly. I don’t want the risk of flaking nail polish into our food!

So I was reading about DIY “natural manicures last year. I found some kits that were in the $40-60 range, and this all seemed crazy to me. But then when I read the reviews for these kits, I realized that the key part that everyone raved about was the glass nail file — this seemed to be the real game changer. I vaguely remember buying (and breaking…) a glass nail file back in my 20s. The reviews say that if you commit to using a glass nail file, you don’t even have to cut your nails anymore. You file in one direction, and your nails will be super shiny and nice without any product.

I found highly rated glass nail files on Amazon late last year. I even brought them to Australia/the Philippines. Once I used them, I couldn’t believe it had taken me this long to find them. My nails no longer had the annoying jagged edges that would snag like when I file with a (terrible!) cardboard or plastic nail file. The nail tips actually were shiny because of the glass; I couldn’t believe it. So because of this one change, I’ve actually stopped picking at my nails since December. I still pick at my cuticles, but that’s another problem to be addressed. It’s one thing at a time!

I’m still oiling my cuticles regularly to prevent the dryness (which then tempts me to pick at them), but my nails have honestly never been better. What a find that’s benefited my nail health – glass nail files!

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

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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

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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.