Disappointing NYC pizza

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So after years of following a certain very popular downtown Manhattan pizza spot, I finally went today to get a single slice of their version of margherita. Given it was a Monday at around noon, there were none of the usual crowds, just a few tourists. It was standing room only: no seats at all. If you wanted to eat just outside, they created “makeshift tables” out of the tops of huge garbage cans (really classy). I went and ordered a single slice of pizza and waited for them to reheat it.

And when I got it, I touched the bottom of my plate and noticed that it actually wasn’t that hot. They did a bit of a rush job to reheat my pizza. When I bit into it, it was even worse: the botttom was soggy; there was no crisp or crunch on the bottom despite the reheating. And the tomato sauce tasted so sweet that it was as though they added sugar to it to make up for lackluster tomato sauce. It was actually really embarrassing given the reputation this pizza joint has in lower Manhattan. I knew I would never be back.

The cherry on top was that I went back and looked at the pricing: they charge 15 percent extra if you pay credit card, plus tax. If you pay cash, which I did, you get a 15 percent discount and don’t have to pay any sales tax. Wow — 15 percent? That’s a lot higher than the 3-4 percent that Visa and Mastercard are charging the business. It’s almost like they want to profit even more off you for dealing with your credit cards! I will definitely never be back — I don’t care how good the other slices are supposed to be. One bad move with pizza in a city as pizza-rich as New York, and it’s game over forever.

How long are we allowed to be kids?

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When we were getting ready to go to Kaia’s friend’s 4th birthday party in our building yesterday, out of nowhere, Kaia decided that she wanted to wear her cow costume (from Halloween two years ago, as it was oversized!) to the party. Originally, Chris was not a fan of this and insisted that she just wear regular clothes. But Kaia is stubborn (just like both of her parents), and she continued persisting that she really wanted to wear it. I thought about it for a minute and just told Chris that we should relent.

“We should just let her wear it,” I said to him. “She only has so much time when she can wear a costume like this when it will be considered ‘acceptable.'” Plus, she’s already slowly getting too long for this oversized costume, and she won’t be able to wear it soon anymore. So we should just let her get more wears and fun out of it as long as we can.

Of course, Kaia was thrilled. She insisted that the cow be fully zipped up, and that she even wear the cow “head” (the hood part). Knowing her, I had a feeling she’d last only a short time at the party with the outfit since it would get quite hot and stuffy, especially with so many people in the apartment. So predictably, the cow costume eventually came off. But of course, all the adults marveled at her cow costume initially. One of them even asked me, “So, is this her weekend outfit of choice?”

Kids can get away with so many things that adults could never get away with: making beelines and cutting people off for seats on public transportation; constantly angling for freebies at stories and restaurants; simply smiling and getting free candy from doormen in buildings; wearing single-piece full length costumes on just any average day. I love that about childhood, and I wish we could all learn to embrace it more. Childhood is finite — it will all come to an end, and then we will no longer be given grace on so many things. Well, I can’t really personally embrace it since I’m quite far from my childhood years, but I want to let Kaia embrace it for as long as possible. I want her to enjoy her childhood and not have her rush to become an adult. There’s so much fun and magic in childhood that gets lost when we focus too much on the future and “getting big.”

A 4-year-old’s birthday party

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Even though I am a parent to a four-year-old, in the grand scheme of early child parenting, I really haven’t attended or taken Kaia to that many birthday parties. Most of the “birthday parties” she has been to have been held at her school within classrooms, and the kids get some version of a cupcake or cake/ice cream, along with a goodie bag of toys/treats to take home. A friend in our building, whose son turned 4 today, told me that she really hated kids’ birthday party setups here, such as the ones at places like kids’ gyms and play spaces because it was really all about the kids playing and goofing around, along with some crappy “included” food like cheap, greasy pizza and soda — none of which grown parents would enjoy and would just suck up since it was part of the overall fee. And the fees are quite expensive: they are not something to sneeze at, especially when your kid is so young and will barely remember most of these things — other than through photos.

So she said that she preferred intimate gatherings with local friends and their kids. If they were traveling, they’d have dinners and cake cuttings with family. Today, she hosted us at her place just several floors down, where along with some local friends and their kids, we ate Popup Bagels (today, I learned these are for dipping, not for slicing and filling!), drank champagne, and also enjoyed two delicious, very “adult” cakes from Delice Macarons, a local French bakery on the Upper West Side. One was chocolate mousse cake (gluten free!) shaped like a mini chateau, while the second was another chocolate mousse with a very delicious and refined raspberry gelee. While I chatted with the other parents and kept a casual eye on Kaia to ensure she didn’t break anything, I thought to myself — this is such a refined birthday cake for a four-year-old child. Most kids of his age would never appreciate or even know how good they had it to have a cake this meticulously made — and probably very, very pricey! What a little dream to have a chocolate chateau as your birthday cake!

But that’s also what I think of Kaia Pookie: she has no idea how wide and refined of a palate she actually has. She doesn’t realize that she has such a breadth of cuisines, and has really only been exposed to fancy, gourmet chocolate — with the exception of that Twix she ate last October. ‘Tis the life of little kids who have food-appreciating parents as their mamas and daddies.

Taking advantage of the last several months regularly being downtown

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Before I know it, Kaia will be having her preschool graduation in June, and so will begin her very last couple of months going to school in Manhattan Chinatown. August will be the last month she will be in school down there, so that will mark my last month having an excuse to go down to Manhattan Chinatown almost daily. I’d been thinking about this since September when she started Pre-K. So, I made a mental note to myself that every week, as long as I had time, I’d “take advantage” of my time down there and try at least one new business. That could mean a restaurant, takeout spot, bakery, cafe — something that was new for me. I’ve long shared with anyone that while I like where I live, I don’t necessarily love it. The Upper West Side/Hell’s Kitchen are not a top food/eating destination for me at all in New York City — this is obviously my opinion, and I am sure many people will disagree. I would far prefer living further downtown closer to where most of my favorite places are, and where most new fun places open.

My Google Map list is pretty out of control. If you took a look at it for the Lower East Side/Chinatown area, it’s almost covered in green flags for “to try.” So trying new spots is never a challenge; it’s more figuring out which one I feel like trying when. On Wednesday, my friend and I went to 1915 Lanzhou Hand-Pulled Noodle, so that ticked off one box (and I am definitely going back there — the noodles and broth were soooo goooooood). Today, I forgot my water bottle and got thirsty during my walk around SoHo/Chinatown, so I used that as an excuse to finally try Matchaful on Mulberry. There, I had an Indigo Glow matcha, which included four grams of ceremonial grade matcha, taro, maqui berry, maple syrup, and oat milk (very satisfying and not too sweet). And for our usual Friday takeout dinner tonight, I stopped by the very new Grandma’s Dumpling House on Pell, where I picked up two types of dumplings, Chinese chive pockets, and shredded potato salad. Here, the dumplings were filled and cooked to order (so fresh!) and super juicy, and the chive pockets were stuffed to the brim. I rarely see shredded potato salad on any Chinese menu, so I decided to try this out here — it was very refreshing and crunchy, though I would have preferred if it were spiked with freshly ground Sichuanese peppercorn, which I still remember having from a very delicious and authentic Sichuanese restaurant in Framingham, Massachusetts, of all places. The dumpling skins were particularly good — they weren’t too thick at the fold part (which I usually can’t stand), but they also weren’t too thin that they’d break easily.

So many things to eat, and never enough time: ’tis the dilemma of someone with limited time in downtown.

A lot changes in just a few years in the baby gear world

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Five years ago when I started researching baby gear and equipment, it seemed that pretty much every single parent, nanny, or caregiver on the Upper West Side was pushing around an Uppababy Vista or Cruz stroller. For about a hot second, I considered the Cruz on a short list… until we tested it out at the Nordstrom flagship (great place to test out strollers!) and immediately had to ex it out because it was far too heavy and bulky, especially considering we’d be going up and down subway stairs, and not every subway station is elevator accessible. Back then, we settled on the Nuna Triv stroller, which was very sturdy, well-built, but still light enough to carry up and down the subway stairs (assuming two people are carrying the darn thing). We were a rarity on the street, though: almost no one else has the Nuna Triv stroller. A few people had the Nuna MIXX, but most people who owned Nuna products had the car seats (which we also had). The most popular travel stroller at the time, which we saw constantly on the streets and at airports, was the Babyzen YoYo. Over the course of three years, we also borrowed a friend’s YoYo since they didn’t use theirs at all while at home given they live in the suburbs.

Well, fast forward to today: very rarely do I see Uppababy Vista or Cruz strollers on the street. In fact, the most common stroller I see now is the next generation Nuna Triv or MIXX, the Bugaboo Butterfly, and several variations of the Cybex or Joolz strollers. Babyzen got bought out by Stokke and I had no idea (this just shows how much older Kaia is now since I no longer pay attention to this stuff!), plus the updates to their latest YoYo model have been poorly reviewed by the current wave of new parents. And the only reason I found this out was due to some light stroller research for a friend, who is about to adopt a 2-year-old child and will need a toddler-friendly stroller.

A lot changes in just a handful of years — it’s actually a little scary how quickly our “knowledge” can become obselete. In another four years, I may not even know any of the latest stroller or car seat brands at all!

1915 Lanzhou Hand Pulled Noodles – lives up to the hype

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I met a friend for dinner tonight at 1915 Lanzhou Hand Pulled Noodles, which has two locations in Manhattan, one in Kips Bay, and its second in Manhattan Chinatown. I was first introduced to Lanzhou, Gansu, style hand-pulled noodles from a nondescript restaurant in Boston Chinatown. A friend’s boyfriend, who was also originally from Gansu, said that as a little boy, he grew up eating these noodles, and there was nothing quite like it. When the little noodle shop in Boston Chinatown eventually closed (with no reasons noted on their shuttered doors), he was devastated and said he had no idea where else to find the taste of his childhood. Simply watching noodles being pulled by hand was mesmerizing to me at the time, as I’d never seen any food craft quite like it. Even today when I watch this being done, I’m in awe.

When I eventually moved to New York in June 2008, I ended up in the mixed neighborhood of Elmhurst, Queens, where my cousin introduced me to Lao Bei Fang, a neighborhood staple in the budding mini Chinatown there. Lao Bei Fang specialized in hand pulled noodles and dumplings, and it was there that I became a hand-pulled noodle and dumpling regular. The owner always pulled the noodles then; he was truly a noodle master. If you came during off hours, he would even sing Chinese opera for you as a side bonus. As someone who grew up Cantonese and eating lots of Cantonese food, I found northern style noodles and dumplings to be a total revelation, one I was eager to delight in and slurp up.

Eventually, Lao Bei Fang expanded and moved into a bigger space off Whitney Avenue and onto the main drag of Broadway in Elmhurst. This required more staff, and this also meant that the owner and his wife were rarely seen at the restaurant anymore. Instead, they hired others to make all the dumplings and pull all the noodles. Sadly, the food was just never the same again. I tried going back twice to give them another chance, yet I always left disappointed: Once, I was given cold, previously fried dumplings. Another time, the noodles were gummy, and the beef soup tasted one dimensional and even canned. My beloved hand pulled noodle shop of my early 20s was no longer the same.

So when I read about 1915 Lanzhou Hand Pulled Noodle, I figured I had to try it out. I got to the restaurant a little early to find that a small line had already developed; there were eight people in front of me, and all were White! I wasn’t sure what to make of this or whether the line would move quickly. But within 10 minutes, I got a little table and was seated, even without my dining partner. And when my friend did eventually show up, she got confused that this was the right place because, “Why are there so many White people lining up for these noodles?” I let her know about the New York Times write-up, and she smiled and understood.

Here, you can choose the thickness and cut of the noodle, which was fun. And there’s a big glass wall through which you can watch the dumpling and noodle makers at work. And I will say: the hype was real. The beef broth was beefy, rich, with lots of spices and herbs, and the flavor was deep. The beef was tender and melt in your mouth. And the noodles had a delicious and addictive springiness. I also loved the chili oil with its fruity undertones. The little fried buns (sheng jian bao) were super crispy on the bottom and juicy.

I will definitely be back here for my hand pulled noodle fix in the future, even with the lines. I think takeout might be in order!

Proof that my child will become an omnivore (or stated differently, will not become a vegan)

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I’ve been clearing out most of the meat-based proteins in the freezer ahead of our upcoming Costco trip, and I found that I still had two packs of bone-in chicken thighs from Butcher Box. So I marinated them last night and roasted them, Vietnamese garlicky-style. I pulled all the meat off the bones and assembled what my mom would call a “cuon cuon” station: a shallow bowl-plate for dipping rice paper, a stack of rice paper, bowls with various herbs, lettuce, sliced cucumbers, pickled daikon/carrot, cooked rice noodles, crushed toasted peanuts, scallion oil sauce, a plate of just roasted garlicky chicken, bowls of nuoc cham for dipping. And because I had a random single egg remaining from the carton I just threw out, I also ribboned an egg omelet into strips to add to the cuon (rolls).

Kaia had her own vegetables and chicken on her plate at dinner time, but she was watching as I rolled chicken cuon for Chris and me. For the first time watching me do this, she was actually very fascinated. First, she asked if she could do it. Then, she realized quickly how finicky it was (these rice papers are very sticky and pliable for a 4-year-old!), so she asked me to make some cuon for her. And then, she happily tore into them and chewed them vigorously. She was very excited to finally “participate” in her cuon cuon station that her mama made. She instructed me on exactly how much of each filling she wanted in her cuon. I was so proud that she was embracing this for the first time, at age 4. There’s a first for everything!

Then at bedtime, we read a book together that included a unicorn and lots of food. And as per usual, Kaia likes to “pretend eat” all the food by “grabbing” all the food on the pages and pretending to chomp on and eat them. For the first time, she “grabbed” the unicorn and pretended to eat it.

“Pooks!” I exclaimed, a bit confused. “You can’t eat the unicorn!”

She smiled mischievously at me in response, then her face went blank. “Why not?” And then she paused and giggled. “I’m just pretending, mama!”

Unicorns are mythical animals. But my Pookie insists that she wants to “eat” them. I guess this may be a sign she has zero desire to become vegan anytime soon.

“Why is it just three of us?”

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Kaia woke up this morning to see that her paternal grandparents were not in the house anymore. As they usually do, Chris’s parents left on one of several side trips on this trip: for the next week and a half, they are off to Utah, Nevada, Toronto, and Maine. She came out of her bedroom and peered at our bed where Chris’s parents would sleep and did not see them. Instead, she saw a fully made up bed. She also saw me lying on the sofa bed, still under the covers.

“Where did Suma and Topa go?” Kaia asked, as she got into sofa bed with me.

“Remember we told you they’d leave this morning for about a week and a half?” I said to her lightly. “They’ll be back next Wednesday! They’ll be back before you know it.”

She gave me her contemplative look. She was clearly sad and did not like that they weren’t at home with us anymore.

As she ate her breakfast, she said to me, “Why is it just the three of us?” And when I told her that Suma and Topa couldn’t stay with us forever, she kept asking me, “Why? Why?”

Kaia wants everyone she loves with her all the time – forever. Like most kids her age, she never wants the fun to end, and she always wants to be loved and cuddled and given attention to constantly. It’s hard to explain to her in a way she will understand why some people she loves live so far away, and why these same relations (like grandparents) can be closer in proximity like her classmates’ grandparents may be. But I guess that’s all the things you start learning and understanding the older and more mature you become.

Chamber Music Society – Tuneful Teamwork for littles

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Whenever I can, I try to check the Lincoln Center and Chamber Music Society kids event calendars to see what’s upcoming that I could bring Kaia to. As she’s getting older every year, this means that there are more and more events that could be age appropriate for her. A lot of the Lincoln Center/CMS events are for elementary-school-age children, so she’s in a pretty sweet spot now as she’s getting closer to kindergarten. Months ago, I snagged some seats for us that were pay-what-you-choose for the Big Umbrella Festival CMS event called Tuneful Teamwork, where the kids get to see a string quartet play different pieces by Haydn, Grant Still, Beethoven, Borodin, Mendelssohn, and Bridge. I took her this afternoon to the Rose Studio for this performance. During each piece, the performers show a different way to lead, follow, and play as a team. All the performers were really interactive and sweet with the kids. Kaia was immediately mesmerized by all the string instruments, but of course as the hour went on, she gradually got distracted by other kids being distracted. She did jump at the chance to play with one of the instruments at the end. After the performance ended, child-sized violas, violins, a cello were brought out so that the kids could take turns touching and playing it with a CMS performer. Kaia chose the cello, and she really enjoyed holding the bow and listening to the “music” she was making.

I would love for Kaia to play an instrument, and I wonder which one she will choose if she does end up playing? In the back of my mind, I always think that if I were to learn an instrument now, I’d want to do something seemingly basic — the piano – an oldie but a goodie. I never learned how to read music properly during my two years (miserably) playing violin in elementary school. And it’s never too late to learn!

When part of your family thinks that doctors are the “persecuted class”

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I think it can be universally stated no matter what country you are in that doctors, as a group of people, can be considered a “prestigious” profession or class of people. They are known to earn good money regardless of where in the world they live. There’s pretty much no one you would meet, regardless of nationality, ethnicity, race, or gender, who would say that to be a doctor is not a ‘high class’ profession. And there is no one who would say that nurses are equal to doctors in prestige and/or pay.

But then, I met my in-laws and listened to a very big and loud debate they had with Chris tonight, and I realized that they are actually the only two people I have met on planet earth who actually do believe that doctors have the same level of “prestige” or “status” as nurses, and would even argue that nurses get paid the same — at least, in Australia. And I also heard my mother-in-law say that she thinks that doctors are a “persecuted class” of people in Australia.

I asked my good friend Claude (AI) what the average salaries are in Australia for nurses versus doctors. Claude informed us that on average for the last available year of data, doctors as a group make about double what nurses make there. Both in-laws refuted the data and insisted the stats were inaccurate. My mother-in-law kept insisting her own personal experiences were representative of all doctors in the country, and that her own anecdotes held more weight than national statistics.

I love my in-laws and think they are generally good people. But this doubting of real statistics feels like the spread of fake news. Now I understand why Chris and his brother always say they’d never take real career advice from their parents.