Taking advantage of the last several months regularly being downtown

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

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

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)

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?”

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

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”

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.

Suicide ideation in a 9-year-old

Over the last decade, suicide rates among people under 18, and youth in general, have increased overall. There has been an upward trend pre 2020, a spike around the COVID period, and some recent improvement, but still elevated levels. Suicide has remained one of the leading causes of death for adolescents, and overall youth suicide rates are much higher today than they were just 10 to 15 years ago. Mental health struggles have increased in surveys of teens, especially among certain age sub groups. I’m aware of this not just because of my involvement with AFSP, but also because I generally follow mental health and overall health news and developments.

Today at an afternoon catch up with a friend, I was saddened to learn that her 9-year-old niece had attempted suicide by slashing her wrists. In the last few months, she’d already started withdrawing from friends and activities that usually interest her. She’s not even officially a pre-teen yet, yet she’s already feeling depressed. She has intense pressure from her mother to “make it” as a child model, and she’s constantly told she has to smile 24/7. It sounds like a pretty miserable life for such a young kid.

My friend is naturally a caring (and sometimes over-caring) and concerned person. She always wants to help and “fix” problems as best as she can. But this is one of those issues where I told her flat out that it would not be something to “fix”, but rather would need to be seen as a “work in progress.” At this age, kids need to know that they are good and enough as they are; they need a strong emotional foundation, and it’s up to the adults in their lives to help provide them that. Given she barely sees her niece once a month, she’s going to need someone more often present in her life like a counselor or closer family member to help reinforce this. She needs low-pressure, consistent communication. She also needs to know she has a safe space to openly speak her mind about anything and everything.

I think back to my old childhood and to Ed’s. And I know without a doubt that Ed had no adult he could rely on to be his safe person, his safe space. I eventually found two teachers in middle and high school who became mine, and ultimately my de factor mentors. If every little child growing up had real safe spaces with reliable, well-intentioned, kind-hearted adults, I think we’d have less mental health challenges amongst young people. But I guess we can all only try to do our own little parts to contribute to this.

Chè Thái (Vietnamese fruit cocktail)

I grew up eating many variations of chè, or traditional Vietnamese sweet soups and puddings. As a child, I enjoyed them just as much as I enjoyed western desserts like cake or ice cream. Plus, I didn’t have easy access to these Vietnamese desserts unless we stumbled upon a Vietnamese bakery or were in San Jose or Orange County. My mom never made very much Vietnamese food given our favorite Vietnamese dishes can be very laborious, and there was no way she’d ever go to the great lengths it takes to put together a Vietnamese dessert like these.

I never realized when I was younger how much healthier most of these Asian desserts were because they actually had good-for-you ingredients like real fruit and even beans — yes, beans! The one my mom got for me most often in my early years was che dau xanh, or mung bean pudding. It’s a pudding-like che that has mung beans cooked down until soft with some sugar, and sometimes flavored with pandan. Then it’s topped with a very luscious, whipped coconut cream. Another one I enjoyed occasionally was che ba mau, also known as “three colored dessert.” This one has layers of pandan jellies, mashed sweetened mung bean, red beans (sometimes even kidney beans), and a thick layer of sweetened coconut cream.

One version of che that I’ve been thinking about a lot since we were in the Philippines (halo halo!) was che thai, which is translated to mean “Vietnamese fruit cocktail,” in the style of many Thai desserts, hence the “Thai” in the name. I suppose that to describe it a a “fruit cocktail” is fairly accurate given it’s a few different types of fruits and jellies served in a sweetened “soup” that uses coconut milk/cream as its base. So I decided that once the weather got warmer and we had company over that I’d make it. Chris’s parents have arrived for their annual visit, so this will be their first dessert at home with us. It’s pretty straightforward and easy given most of the ingredients are from cans: canned longan, lychee, jackfruit, toddy palm seeds, young coconut flesh, and even aiyu jelly can be used. If you don’t want to use aiyu jelly from a can, you can either make your own, or make a pandan jelly. I made and cubed pandan jelly this morning using agar agar (seaweed) powder – it took less than ten minutes! I also sliced up some jackfruit and toddy palm seeds, and then peeled and cut some fresh mango. I added some canned longans whole. And as the last step, I mixed the “soup” base, which was about a cup of coconut milk, some coconut water, and added some jackfruit syrup/juice from the can until the sweetness was just right. I mixed everything in a big bowl and put it in the fridge to cool.

The che thai was a success: everyone enjoyed it! Chris’s mom even had seconds. And Kaia finished the little bowl I prepared her; she was especially fascinated by the pandan jellies and got so excited she was able to eat jellies with her mama’s approval ( did make them, after all!). If it were in season, I would have liked to include pomegranate seeds to give the che thai a red color to make the soup “pop” more, but I guess I can save that for another time. Some recipes, to add a “red” fruit, will take canned Chinese water chestnuts, chop them into small pieces, coat them in tapioca starch and red food coloring, and then boil them to infuse the red color into the water chestnuts. But I am trying to avoid artificial colors and flavors as much as I can, so I nixed this. And I don’t think anyone would have thought that could enhance tonight’s dessert. Sometimes, it really is the simplest desserts that are quite delicious.

Making strawberry matcha latte at home

The last time I was at a matcha cafe, I was very tempted to get their strawberry matcha latte. But then I balked at the price — $9. I thought to myself, I know I can easily make this for so much less at home, and I would enjoy doing it. So I ordered a cheaper matcha latte that day and made a mental note to myself that I had to buy strawberries when on sale next and commit to making the strawberry sauce base.

So I got two pounds of very ripe strawberries from a street vendor in Astoria last weekend, and this time I knew I was finally going to make this happen! I washed and cut up the strawberries, tossed them into a little saucepan with a little bit of sugar. Then I boiled and simmered it for about 10 minutes. I pureed the sauce and stored it in a jar in the fridge. The “hard” work was done here.

Today, I finally put it all together: I added about a quarter of a cup of the strawberry sauce to two tall glasses (for both Chris and me), then poured in about half a cup of milk to each. I took some of my Costco everyday matcha powder and whisked it with some hot water. I added this to the glasses along with some ice and stirred a bit. Then I took a sip.

This was definitely tasty, and likely more satisfying knowing that I made this all by myself… And knowing that each of these glasses did not cost $9! I am more than happy to pay for lattes or tea/coffee drinks out when I know I cannot be bothered making the equivalent at home. But for me, a strawberry matcha latte is very low effort, high reward. And as long as I have matcha at home and affordable access to sweet strawberries, then I’m all in on making these and enjoying at home.