Monthly Archives: April 2025

New York City laws for food establishments regarding restrooms

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As someone who admittedly has to pee fairly often (well, I do consume over the recommended amount of water per day), I always prefer to patronize establishments that have restrooms. Typically, if you are going to a sit-down restaurant in New York City, you can pretty much be guaranteed a restroom. With cafes and bakeries, though, this is very much on a case-by-case basis; it’s never a guarantee, and the vast majority of them will not provide a restroom for customers. So the rare times when I do find a restroom for customers, like at the popular bakery Almondine in Dumbo (likely one of my all-time favorite almond croissants, plus their hot Valrhona chocolate is more than worth it), or Paper Sons Cafe (a relatively new, family-owned cafe with excellent coffee drinks) in Manhattan Chinatown, I always appreciate it so much. And when I share these businesses with other people, whether it’s in public reviews or just by mouth, I always make sure to highlight it. It’s just a really big nice-to-have for a smaller establishment like a cafe or bakery. It ultimately just shows kindness and empathy to the customers who are frankly keeping you in business.

So you can imagine that I was pretty annoyed when I found out that a Japanese restaurant that had opened in East Village last year called Okiboro House of Udon, had no restroom. I was shocked. You’re charging $23 a bowl for udon, and you cannot even be considerate enough to your customers and have a bathroom? For the first 6-8 months when this place first opened, I was constantly seeing it all over social media; it had lines around the block and waits of 2-3 hours. People would just stand there for hours on end to sit and eat there for 30-40 minutes and leave. I knew I wanted to eventually go once the hype was over. So my pregnant friend suggested that we go there for dinner tonight; neither of us had ever heard of Himokawa style udon before, and we obviously had never had it. Unlike regular udon, with its fat and rounded noodles, Himokawa udon is a traditional, wide, and flat udon noodle that is known for its smooth, chewy texture and is often served hot or cold with a dipping broth. I said we could — but only if we went right at open time to avoid any potential wait. I warned her, especially given she’s pregnant, that it didn’t have a bathroom, but she said she could go to a cafe nearby after where her friend works, and she could use the restroom there. For her sake (and well, partly mine), I checked the latest Google reviews to see if they had added a bathroom. Unfortunately, we were out of luck: all the latest reviews still noted and complained about the lack of restroom. The owner kept responding to the reviews noting the lack of restroom and saying that because the restroom they had was only accessible through the kitchen, customers were not allowed to go through the kitchen to use it given that violated NYC health code. So, they could not allow customers to use it.

I felt like this was a total cop out, and frankly, it’s just bullshit. They would have known this was a law before deciding to lease the space and take over it as a restaurant. They could have easily incorporated a restroom into the design of the restaurant while it was being constructed like every other restaurant does. They’re making an excuse for something that they were just too lazy and cheap to do. I went to look up the local health code laws, and I found this out: If a food service establishment has 20 or more seats and opened after 1977, it must provide a toilet for its customers. I quickly counted the number of seats in the small space that is Okiboro House of Udon: those bastards — they have 18 seats! It’s like this purposely did this just to avoid having to build a damn bathroom that was accessible to customers!!

Was the food good? Yes. Was it good enough for me to want to come back given all the other incredible food establishments across New York City, plus the fact it lacks a basic bathroom? No.

The hype has died down. Okiboro House of Udon — good luck to you.

Strength training before cardio or cardio before strength training?

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Unless I was heading to an outside gym for a class at a set time, when I do my workouts, I usually have always done cardio before strength training. For me, strength training can be anything from weights, pilates, or barre. The logic I always had (that I had heard from others) was that you want to increase your heart rate and get your muscles warmed up before you go into the strength portion of your exercise. However, I’ve noticed that a lot of people at my building gym do the opposite: they start with their strength training, and then they end with a run, elliptical set, or a fast incline walk. I started reading articles about this and realized that there’s really no right or wrong way to go, but what is generally accepted is to at least have a 5-20 minute cardio warmup before your strength set to still get your muscles and body ready for movement. I actually did this today: I did 15 minutes of running, then 30 minutes of strength, followed by another 15 minutes of running. And when I did my second run, I actually felt more energized and like I had more power in my muscles on the treadmill! It was a really good feeling, so I think I will likely continue this approach.

I will say, though, that since I run on a treadmill, that approaching workouts this way is a little annoying from a maintenance standpoint because if I touch the treadmill on two separate sets, that means I have to use the cleaning wipes twice on the treadmill instead of once…

Handmade with love – ceramic mugs flown in from Seattle

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As someone who spends a lot of time thinking of what food to make and then making the majority of foods she eats at home from scratch (or near scratch), I have always deeply appreciated homemade, handmade things. Aside from food, I used to scrapbook a lot before Kaia was born. I also regularly handmade cards for holidays like Christmas and Valentine’s Day. The rare times I have been given handmade things, whether it was jewelry, cards, and Kaia’s hand-knit and crocheted clothes from Chris’s mom and cousin, I have always marveled that someone would actually want to spend their time and energy hand making something for me (or my child). We live in a fast-paced, fast-everything world, where people seem to value cheapness and mass production over unique, hand-crafted things now. Even the platform Etsy, which historically was founded as a marketplace for unique, one of a kind handmade items made by artisans, has now been overtaken by mass producers in China, Korea, and other parts of the world, touting the facade of uniqueness and artsiness.

Today, I received a package of goodies from a friend in Seattle. It included a few things she got Kaia and me on her recent Japan trip, as well as Rooted Fare black sesame butter (which I’d been wanting to try for ages), and something I was not expecting at all: two unique, handmade ceramic mugs her husband had made at their pottery studio to which they have a membership. While I love and appreciate all the gifts, I couldn’t help but stare at and move the ceramic mugs in my hands multiple times. As soon as I saw them, I was about 90 percent sure they’d made these at their pottery studio, so I texted her to ask. She confirmed that she actually did not make them, that her husband made them, since she was taking a break from pottery. I knew she had been going to a pottery studio, and I was floored that they’d actually share things they handmade with me. I just felt really touched.

I guess it’s my old-fashioned side, but I really don’t think people appreciate handmade items much anymore. It’s easy to look at these mugs and not be impressed; you can get aesthetically pleasing, reasonably priced (or exorbitantly expensive) mugs anywhere and everywhere now. But the special thing here is: I know these were handmade by friends of mine, and they chose to give these to me. And for that, I am grateful. They’re giving me a gift that they actually made with their own hands, and with their precious time. Their time that they put into these mugs is a gift.

And as an added bonus, they’re dishwasher safe! So I am definitely planning to use these regularly now.

Kaia’s caterpillar worries

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After 17 years of living on my own, not in my parents’ house, and no longer in college, I have finally found the optimal way to store basil to keep it fresh for as long as possible: place the stems in a tall glass with some water and position them like they’re a bouquet. Then lightly drape a plastic bag over them. Replenish the water every day, ensuring that none of the leaves are submerged. Somehow, with this process, I was able to keep my Thai basil stems fresh for seven days; on day 7, they looked like they were just as fresh as on day 1!

The basil I had was so fresh that somehow, for seven days, a little caterpillar was able to rest and stay alive on its stems that long. I didn’t even catch it until today when I was replenishing the water in the glass, and I found that the caterpillar was crawling off a stem on my kitchen counter. I immediately looked at it, realized what it was, and then told Kaia to come look; I wasn’t sure she had ever seen a real caterpillar before. The only “encounter” she’d had with a caterpillar was in Eric Carle’s famous book, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, which she loves and has read on repeat for the last two years. When she came over to look at the caterpillar, she examined it closely and started smiling. Then, Kaia ran into her bedroom, grabbed her copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and then brought it over. She held the book next to the real caterpillar and said, “They aren’t the same!” I told her that they weren’t the same, but they were, in fact, moving the same way.

A bit later, I told her we had to release the caterpillar outside to make sure it got some food and could be free. She waved “bye bye!” to the caterpillar as I released it into a bush. We went about our day outside.

Later that evening, after we had finished bedtime stories and I tucked her in, I kissed her good night and left her room. About an hour later, she slowly opened her bedroom door and had a sad face.

“What is it, Pooks?” I asked her. “What’s wrong?”

Kaia hesitated for a second and then whispered, “I want to know what happened to the caterpillar. Is it okay?”

I brought her back to bed and tucked her in once again, and I assured her that the caterpillar was doing just fine. I’m sure he had something to eat and was probably also getting ready for bed, as well, as all living things had to sleep.

She then did her “side eye” thinking face and said in Chinese, “Does he also need to shower and brush his teeth?”

Yes, I said, I’m sure he does his version of both.

She smiled. “Okay. Good night, mummy! Bye bye!”

My sweet, caring Kaia Pookie. Her empathy and thoughtfulness never cease to amaze me as it appears in different forms. I imagined her lying in bed for that last hour, worrying about the little caterpillar friend we had set free almost 10 hours before. It was so sweet. Her innocence always warms my heart.

Grandparenting in the current era

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The Atlantic recently wrote a piece about how “grandparenting,” or specifically, “grandmothering” is on the rise. When they say this, what they mean is that active parenting by a grandparent, mostly a grandmother, has increased notably in recent times due to the shortage of reliable and affordable childcare, soaring costs of living, and the mandatory need given the soaring cost of living for dual-income households in the U.S. This has made parents of the current generation apply more pressure on their parents to help raise their own children. This is most definitely something I see across a majority of parents of a similar age to me: most of my friends with kids have a parent look after their child(ren) for at least 1-2 days a week, without them there. We have a friend whose in-laws not only pick up their two kids from preschool at 2:50 every weekday, but also take them overnight two nights a week; those same grandparents take the two kids to Michigan during the summer where their other son and his children are — for two months; that is two months that my friend doesn’t see (or have to parent) his own children, time he gets to himself and to himself plus his wife. These grandparents play an active role in their grandchildren’s upbringing, not just having fun with them and getting to know them inside out, but also being a second set of parents to them.

I was thinking about this today as I watched Chris’s parents struggle to wrangle Kaia around, whether it was on the sidewalk, on the street, or in stores. A couple times I told Chris’s dad to walk with Kaia, and as per usual, he would barely hear me, and Kaia would run off on her own without him even noticing. In the end, I’d have to run off after her. In other cases, Chris’s mom struggled to run after her to keep up, and Kaia succeeded at keeping her grandma on her toes. Back when Kaia was in her diapers era, Chris’s dad wouldn’t even want to be in the room when a diaper change was happening; Chris’s mom would only do it if Chris or I wasn’t there. During their very first visit to New York after Kaia was born, when Kaia was about five months old, when I was working from home and Chris was at the office, and they were meant to babysit while our then-nanny was on vacation, Chris’s mom would come into the room when I was working and announce that Kaia needed a diaper change. The implication here was that I needed to stop what I was doing to change her diaper since I was there (who cares that I was actually working… since I was, you know, at home?). Now that Kaia is potty trained (but still isn’t equipped to wipe herself or wash her hands without assistance), neither of them has offered to help with the potty visits, either during our visit to Australia in December, or now. Granted, they aren’t used to being around her all the time, definitely are not used to helping someone during potty time, or seeing exactly how much she loves to run around and be cheeky, but they could in no way keep up with her. I am positive that if they had to look after her for even one day a week on their own, they’d likely leave her in their own house so they wouldn’t have to worry about the threat of getting lost in a store or, in the absolute worst case, the chance of getting hit by a car or bicyclist.

Chris’s mom always used to tell friends, family, and us that if we lived in Melbourne, she would have loved to be a full-time care taker to Kaia once we went back to work after family leave. But the thing is — you can certainly assume you want things in theory, but in practice, it’s never as simple or easy as it seems in your head. In theory, lots of things sound nice. In real life, it’s a completely different story. As we all get older, our physical and mental abilities get more limited. We tire more easily. We have less energy. And frankly, there just may be less stamina to run after a boisterous, rebellious little toddler than you had originally assumed.

Chinese dinner banquet-style eating will never be the same

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Tonight, we went downtown to Chinatown to pick Kaia up from school before heading off to one of our old standbys for dinner, Wu’s Wonton King. We started going here way back in 2016-2017 when I first discovered it. While they are obviously known for their delicious wontons, they are also known for their high quality Peking duck, which pre-pandemic, they used to present whole to you, and then beautifully slice up table side and insert each carefully cut piece into a little hot and steamy mantou bun, then dress it with a bit of hoisin sauce and thinly sliced scallions. They would place all of these pieces in a neat steam tray, then also give you a plate on the side with the whole duck legs. Chris said that his parents being in town was a good opportunity to take advantage of ordering more things given we’d have more mouths to feed.

Yes, in theory, that is the case. But alas, with age, all of our appetites have declined, especially his parents’. And well, Chinese dinner banquet style eating will never quite live up to the same memories or expectations I had when I was growing up, when we’d have semi-regular Cantonese feasts out with my grandma, parents, Ed, three cousins, and their parents. My grandma would always do all the ordering. We’d always start with a hearty soup, followed by various massive platters of seafood, meats, and vegetables, along with a huge family sized portion of rice. And the meal would always end with a complimentary dessert soup. It was usually red bean, but if we got lucky, it was taro sago. You would never leave this meal hungry.

Tonight, we ordered a whole Peking duck, a whole steamed fish (which I think was rock cod), egg tofu and vegetable casserole, and a platter of stir-fried pea shoots with garlic, plus rice. Was it more than we usually order when it’s just Chris, Kaia, and me? Of course. But the variety of food will never hold a candle to the variety I had as a child in my ten-person-family meals out. You really need more hungry mouths to feed, as well as mouths that appreciate variety. Plus, the things I really crave, like ginger garlic sauteed lobster or crab, his parents wouldn’t really appreciate much.. and frankly, neither would Chris. His dad always says he doesn’t “take” crab or lobster. His mom seems ambivalent to it. And well, the apple never falls that far from the tree: Chris thinks that crab and (lesser so) lobster are never worth the manual labor. Kaia enjoys crab and lobster if it’s fed to her, but she doesn’t quite go “crazy” over any seafood that much.

Who knows — maybe one day in the not-so-near future, we’ll have a group of friends who would be willing to indulge like this. And with prices on literally everything rising and inflation going nuts, that time seems like it’s quite far away. For Lunar New Year this year, I spent about $22 on a whole fish and steamed it ginger scallion style as I usually do. This whole fish at Wu’s, which was about twice the size of the LNY one, was almost $70. Are we paying for the labor? Yes. But while it was nice to have someone else make it for me, I couldn’t help but feel like I was kind of being price gouged.

Haw mok and Thai cooking fun

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Today as part of our dinner at home, I made haw mok, also known as Thai red curry custard with fish. I’d never heard of it until I saw a video that Pailin posted on her YouTube channel, Hot Thai Kitchen, but it sounded easy enough with ingredients I either already had or could easily source, so I decided to make it. It came out tasty and had a nice presentation, as it was steamed in a cake pan on top of banana leaves, which added additional fragrance to the curry custard.

While steaming the haw mok, I realized I had come a long way with my comfort with Thai cooking. I remember when I first moved to New York and how intimidated I was by Thai cooking in general. I lived in Elmhurst at the time and was surrounded by endless delicious and fiery Thai restaurants with lots of chilies and spices. I didn’t realize then how straightforward Thai cooking could be. Now, it seems like I’m always tinkering with some Thai recipe at least once a month. My comfort with Thai cooking and ingredients has grown to a point where we almost regularly eat something Thai or Thai inspired at home. And after Chris got me a bunch of Burmese ingredients, I’ve been learning more about Burmese cooking and techniques, as well. In the last week, I’ve been reading Burma Superstar’s cookbook, which has gotten me acquainted with different ingredients I’m not used to as well as ways of cooking that are most definitely a fusion of Chinese/Southeast Asian/Indian cuisines. This makes sense given Myanmar’s geographic location. Who knows – maybe I’ll get super comfortable with Burmese ingredients, and they’ll also be regularly on rotation at home, as well.

A friend I made recently who is also really into cooking said that people like me aren’t very common — people who not only are adventurous eaters, but also actively learn about different cultures’ food and cooking techniques. To be honest, I don’t even know what I would do with a lot of my spare time if I didn’t spend it reading and learning about this stuff. Food is an important part of our lives to live (duh, you have to eat), it’s a key part of our health and well being; it’s an integral part of our cultures and identity. What else would I do with all my time outside of family, travel, and work, if I didn’t spend it thinking about food?

“Daddy, clap my butt!” and other fun toddler moments with Kaia Pookie

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We were on the train coming back home from Bensonhurst on Saturday, and Kaia was sitting at the window seat on the train. Then, she decided to stand to see the view (she loves the “view,” even when we’re underground in the tunnel and can see nothing. But she does get very excited when she sees trains passing us and tries to identify which train number/letter it is). Kaia started acting cheeky, as per usual, and wiggled her butt and danced on the seat. And while we’re having mindless chit chat, she suddenly started sticking her butt out very conspicuously and said, “Daddy, clap my butt! Mummy, clap my butt!” And she started clapping her butt with her own hands and giggling hysterically.

There are a lot of things you can get away with as a child of her age in both behavior and speech. If I said the same thing at my current age, it would likely elicit confusion and annoyance. This is one of those moments that not only elicited lots of smiles from surrounding passengers, but it even got a rider sitting in front of Kaia to text her friend to tell her about the “adorable toddler” sitting behind her who was singing and dancing (I just happened to see this when Kaia was leaning over towards this person’s side, and I saw her text message very clearly near Kaia’s face as I gazed over).

Another fun thing that Kaia has been doing with me is we’ve been “eating” each other. Ever since she was a newborn, I’ve been obsessed with her little fingers and little “toesies,” and before she lost a lot of her baby fat, I could not get enough of staring and lightly squeezing the rolls that were her little “wrists” and “ankles.” When I’ve given her a bath or shower, I always say, “Mumma loves Kaia’s toesies! I’m going to eat your toesies.” And then, I say, “Mumma loves this toesie, and this toesie, and this toesie, and this toesie, and this toesie!” after reaching her last toe on a foot. Then, I go onto the next foot and their set of toes. I occasionally say, “Mmmmmm, Kaia’s toesies are yummy! I’m gonna eat your toesies!” To which she always shrieks and giggles with delight. Lately, she’s been answering back: “Mummy! You can’t eat me! I’m not food!” And then I say in response, “Haha, yes, you are! I’m gonna eat you right now!” Then, I nibble her hand or fingers or toes or foot. She goes into her hysterical laughter. But then she tries to eat me. She insists that her mummy is food! So, she’ll take my fingers or even my face and lips and start nibbling away. I love this pretend mummy-and-daughter-eating-each-other session. Yes, it sounds slightly cannibalistic. Yes, I can also see how it can come across as sexual. But either way, it’s done with lots of fun and deep affection.

Today while riding back home from school, Kaia was in a really happy and chipper mood. In her after school program, they are learning lots of nursery rhymes in Chinese, and one of them is the Chinese version of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” She decided to loudly start singing Chinese “Twinkle Twinkle,” and then I joined in and we sang it together. It became apparent very quickly that there were at least four other female riders, all separate, who started taking an interest in looking at and listening to Kaia. All were smiling and some were even humming along. And when Kaia finished the song, they all started clapping and telling Kaia, “Good job!” Kaia did her usual thing: out of nowhere, when she realizes that she has attention, she starts getting “fake shy” and starts burying her head into my stomach or chest. She did this a couple times when people started waving to her and saying hi, and then she started giggling hysterically and waving back to them.

When we first decided to enroll Kaia at her Chinese immersion school downtown in Manhattan Chinatown, a part of me dreaded the daily subway commute. It obviously wasn’t going to be as convenient as anything walking distance from us. But now I realize that this decision was beneficial in so many more ways than just having more exposure to Chinese language and culture: she just loves everything about the subway and people watching. She has more practice walking, running, and going up and down stairs. It’s great for her to be around so many different people and seeing people like this every day. And for me personally, I love observing her on the train and watching her interact with others on the subway. I love these moments of watching her grow and mature and getting comfortable with subway travel. She’s a true New York City baby.

The times when tough love is necessary: when you make the same mistakes during your workout twice

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As long as I’ve been living in our current building, I’ve had a friendly relationship with our building gym trainer. He’s a trainer who works at multiple sites under the same building management company and also has his own personal training business. We have gotten along and had some interesting conversations over the years. Sometimes, when he has a free moment and sees I am struggling with something or could improve my form, he will stop and help me. He’s not officially my trainer; I’ve never paid him (though I did give him a Christmas tip this last year), but he’s given me endless good advice and is just an overall fun, smart, good person to have around when you’re exercising.

Currently, I’m wrapping up a strength training program via my Alo Moves app, and yesterday, the session had some kettle bell-like movements. About five years ago, I injured my lower back using kettle bells. After that incident, I decided to swear them off, and I haven’t used them since. I told our trainer about this then, and he told me it was most definitely a form issue. He showed me the movement and the parts to focus on. But I shook it off and just avoided them like the plague. Then this week, I figured since it had been a while that I could revisit the kettle bell motion. Well, I messed up once again, even after five years: I woke up this morning with a back that just… did not feel aligned, and I knew immediately what the culprit was. I wasn’t in pain, and there was no clear tweak or pinch, but I definitely felt like I was walking around with something crooked in my lower back. I did lots of stretching and twisting to try to get my back in line.

I walked into the gym this morning and told him, “I’m never using kettle bells ever again.” He gave me a concerned look, but he was in a training session with a trainee at the time. I got on a treadmill for my cardio session. Once he was done and I was near the end of my cardio session, he walked over to me and stared me dead in the eye. He snapped his fingers and motioned for me to get off the treadmill, stat.

With that fierce look in his eyes, I knew that shit was getting real. And I had a feeling that if I didn’t get off that treadmill in that instant, he would have probably stopped my machine and pulled me off.

First, he told me he knew what I was doing wrong. And when I did the kettle bell (or, well, what I thought was the kettle bell) motion, he confirmed what his suspicion was: my form was wrong. And when he observed more and touched my abs, he declared that not only was my form wrong, but I wasn’t engaging my core enough. “A kettle bell swing is a hinge, NOT a squat!” I tried again. “What did I say about the squat? No squat. HINGE. Too much bend in the knees. You need to feel this in your hamstrings. Squeeze that core. SQUEEZE. IT. I NEED THOSE HIPS MORE SOLID!” And then, if that wasn’t bad enough to identify two things I was doing wrong, he said he could tell from my hips that I was neglecting my pre-exercise glute-strengthening exercises he taught me that he insisted I had to do as a warm-up before any, any exercise moving forward. Geez, he’s like my mom; I can’t hide anything from him…

“This is not just to address an injury: this is to warm your body up so that you have a strong foundation,” he admonished me as I sheepishly admitted I hadn’t done the pre-exercises in a month. “As we approach 40, different things in our bodies just get a little weaker, and we have to give them extra love to prevent injury. You have to focus, focus, focus, engage your core, and do the pre-warm up before all else. This is for your health, your wellness. Don’t just mindlessly exercise without thought. You need to focus!”

He said we’re all guilty of mindlessly exercising, of not engaging our core, of getting lazy with warming up. But we needed to do this things even more as we get older. He’s totally right. I probably needed this scolding, this “tough love” wake-up call to call out that even if I am working out 5-6 days a week, none of that really matters if my focus is off or if my form is incorrect or if my stability is a bit wobbly. Sometimes, we really need to get back to basics to get to where we want to be. And it’s really easy to forget the basics when you’ve been exercising so regularly for decades.

When hosting becomes an excuse to make dessert

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I grew up in a large household, in a duplex where my parents, brother and I lived on the second floor unit. My three cousins and their mom and dad lived on the third floor. Until age 9, my grandma lived in the basement/ground level. We had 9-10 total people to share food with, so whenever I baked anything, whether it was cookies, brownies, or bread, there was always lots of people to share the food with and eat it. There was never a worry about “who is going to eat all this?” or “are we going to have too much sugar/fat?” because when you’ve got at least eight or nine people around, that food is most definitely getting eaten one way or another, and pretty darn quickly.

That all changed once I moved to New York and just had a roommate. We shared food only occasionally, but not always. It’s pretty hard to make food just for one person or meal. I still baked, but when I did, I’d usually share it with her and even my colleagues. The food had to go somewhere, and I would never want to waste the food. And even now with Chris, I can’t bake too much because we probably shouldn’t be eating that much sugar and butter, anyway. We’re also trying to limit Kaia’s refined sugar intake. So whenever I know I am hosting friends or relatives over, whether it’s just for one meal or for an extended duration of time, like with Chris’s parents staying with us on and off for about three weeks, I look at these as opportunities to make dessert: what kind of sweets can I make? What have I been dying to make for the last several months that I haven’t had an excuse to make?

So the short list for now looks like this:

Mango and coconut sago, maybe with coconut milk and juice agar agar jelly

Gulab jamun nut bread/cake

Brown butter chocolate chunk cookies (The Food Lab)

Lemon ricotta cake

Orange blossom almond cake

I was chatting with my friend about this, and she could completely relate. She lives alone, and she sees her brother a lot since he lives nearby. Once, she made cookies and he inhaled the entire batch in a single sitting. When she has friends or family over, it’s also her excuse to experiment with baking, especially since she’s more comfortable cooking and has shied away from baking. Yesterday for Easter brunch, she made egg yolkless tiramisu, which turned out really well, so this has given her more confidence to bake other things. It’s been fun to have a friend who is really into cooking and food and to have them around to share food fun stories (and the nightmares of the last several days) and know that they can empathize and understand your situation from experience.