King Arthur flour on sale at Whole Foods

Before my love of cooking was my love for baking. As a young child, I baked lots of breads, cakes, and cookies with my aunt in her warm upstairs kitchen. When we made bread, it was oftentimes “healthy” quick breads like zucchini bread or carrot bread. At some point during my childhood, my dad got a bread maker, and he’d occasionally make a rounded loaf and have it be part of our dinner. It was always a similar flavor and texture, and while I liked it, I always preferred homemade bread that was a bit more free form. When I got to my teen and college years, I started experimenting with commercial yeast and would make a number of different breads, ranging from sweet Portuguese bread, fougasse and focaccia, challah, brioche a tete, cinnamon rolls, and even sticky buns. I always felt very enthralled and stimulated during this process. There is something very magical that happens when you can see your yeast bloom, and then watch as your bread dough grows and rises and bubbles. It’s almost like your little yeast baby that you made from a bunch of flour, water, and yeast. It feels as though you are giving “life” to something.

Although my pandemic era fascination with sourdough starters was very short lived, as I didn’t have the patience to nurse a starter (and had even less patience to deal with the starter discard, as I didn’t want to throw food away, nor did I want to eat as many bread products as using up starter discard would warrant), I realized that for me, homemade bread would always require commercial yeast. I love the freshness and flavor of naturally leavened bread, but I’d have to leave that to the pros. After making my last two loaves of challah in the last couple weeks, I realized my all purpose flour supplies were dwindling, and they needed to be restocked. And then this week, Whole Foods had a King Arthur flour sale; I hadn’t bought King Arthur flour since the pandemic! They are known for having some of the highest quality, unbleached flour in the country, and for having consistent and higher protein levels, which produce greater gluten development, which results in higher quality bakes. I picked up their organic bread flour and organic all-purpose flour today — five pounds of each. As I walked home, I felt excited and alive knowing that more delicious bread and baked goods would come as a result of this ten-pound haul.

The “right” way to make stock/bone broth

If you do a quick search online for how to make chicken stock/broth/bone broth, you”ll see that there are endless tips and tricks, recipes, and recipes that claim to be the “best.” What very few of them will do is share that, well, there’s really no “best” bone broth recipe. Is it really necessary to add vinegar to your bone broth process to further “pull” out the nutrients from the bone marrow into your stock? Do you need to do a mirepoix (combination of chopped carrots, onions, and celery) to make the most flavorful stock base? Are onions a “must” in any chicken stock? The answer to all the above is “no,” and “it depends.” All global cultures have their version of bone broth/stock, and every version brings a different type of “delicious” to their culture’s food. When I was recently reading about the popular Thai soup tom kha gai or Thai chicken galangal coconut soup, Hot Thai Kitchen warned to absolutely NOT use chicken stock from a can/carton from your average Western grocery store because it would not have the right flavors for a Thai soup. Instead, she suggests making your own very simply with a few ingredients. A lot of people would be confused by what she means. What she’s saying is that the mirepoix mentioned above, which is usually considered key in ideal western chicken stocks, would not work here, nor would flavorings like oregano, thyme, rosemary, or the related that are oftentimes added to western stocks. Typical Asian-based stocks would be nothing more than the chicken itself, occasionally garlic and ginger, sometimes some onion, daikon, cilantro and scallion stems, and that’s it!

I made my Asian-based stock just like this today, with chicken bones, some chicken drumsticks, slices of ginger, a few smashed cloves of garlic, some frozen cilantro and scallion stems, daikon, onion, and peppercorns. And it turned out the way it always turns out: rich, golden, full of collagen, and fragrant. I’m planning to use it for tom kha gai, maybe some future tom yum goong, and likely a third Chinese or Thai soup. Stock is the basis of all good cooking, and in this house, we definitely lean Asian with our flavors.

Coworking spaces in New York City are not all created equal

Since I started using my coworking space work perk last October, I’ve only visited one coworking space, which is The Malin SoHo, just an eight-minute walk from Kaia’s school in Chinatown. It has a great location, near lots of food and shopping, and of course, its proximity to Chinatown. The space is clean, premium, with lots of lighting, healthy snacks, proper kitchen setups, a fancy coffee machine, and upscale soaps and lotions in the bathrooms and kitchens. Although initially I found the clientele a bit snobby, I’ve gotten used to the vibe there and found areas that I camp out in, so I’m pretty settled in there. Now, I go about once a week, so the staff always recognizes me.

I was planning to meet a friend for lunch today in Nomad, and I figured I’d check out a new coworking space in the area given the lunch location. I chose a space called Nomadworks, which is walking distance from Madison Square Park, Flatiron, and Koreatown. The booking fee, which my company pays but I can see, is less than half the cost of The Malin SoHo. I took a quick look at its listing on the coworking space booking app, and it seemed fine. So, I booked it on a whim the day before.

I came in and immediately felt the difference. The coworking space is essentially a bunch of open tables with outlets and monitors you can use. There’s an option for standing desks upon request. A handful of phone booths are available for private calls. The “kitchen” has no sink or fridge, though the description in the app said it had a fridge. A few bags of Doritos were at the entrance upon coming in. There’s premade drip coffee for all, which I’d never dare to have because I am 1000% sure it’s revolting. Oddly enough, there’s a variety of several loose leaf teas. There are little compostable paper bags for you to use a teaspoon to measure your tea leaves into, and then you close the bag with a drawstring on top. I used the China jade green tea, and I really think the bags gave an off flavor to my tea. I did not enjoy it and just ended up having hot water because I wanted a hot beverage, but did not want to deal with weird tea bag off-flavor or awful drip coffee.

The space also has rare rooftop access, which I will check out shortly before I leave for the day.

I texted Chris about this, and told him that at least the staff is very friendly and nice, and there’s ample natural light. He responded: “Of course they are friendly. What else do they have when they don’t even have a sink? Sounds like some shitty studio apartment in some dump.”

This type of response is one of the many reasons I truly love my husband.

Marriage longevity: what also makes you take your partner for granted

When I think about relationships, life, and the longevity of relationships, I think a lot about evolution. Yes, a lot about people, perspectives, and relationships remain the same, but what is more interesting to me is how people in long-term partnerships evolve together and somehow still manage to stay together — and actually stay happy together. Plenty of people stay in marriages and long-term partnerships and are miserable. Some stay because of the appearance of being coupled up or for financial reasons. Others stay due to laziness of restarting a new life. But regardless, the ones who remain together and are happy are always the ones I think about.

In the beginning of romantic partnerships, you’re generally trying to be on your best behavior. You don’t fart in the other’s presence. You tread lightly when calling out the other’s foibles or things they are absent minded about. Then as your relationship progresses, you get more comfortable being more honest and blunt with each other. You transition to becoming more open to disagreeing freely with them and arguing. You don’t hesitate to call out their mistakes and flaws, in hopes that they will realize how this impacts you and change… and then you get frustrated because instead of seeing how whatever quality/trait/habit negatively impacts you or your shared space, they double down and get defensive, attacking back. In the beginning, you’re always thanking each other, openly expressing gratitude, greeting each other warmly. Once you get comfortable, maybe even too comfortable, you barely say “thanks” in any noticeable form when they do something thoughtful for you, and you’re lucky if they greet you warmly and even look you in the eye when you enter the home after a while apart. This is what happens as you spend too much time with each other; you naturally just take the other for granted and just expect they will always be there for you — just like you do with your parents or siblings.

So, all of this is funny to me because while Chris has definitely improved with getting constructive feedback from me (I mean, it only took about 13 years…), to this day, he still does not seem to comfortably accept compliments from his wife. He always denies or deflects, says he’s a “regular person,” or sometimes just flat out tells me that I must be out of my mind. Here’s a case in point: I was discussing a story about a friend who is in a relationship that I think is like a slow-moving car crash, and there was nothing I could do to stop or help it. I was expressing that they had no plan. And Chris said to me, some people just follow others blindly and just don’t think or plan for the future at all. And that’s just sad, he said. We’re all adults living in the same world, so why do people do this?

So then I thought about it for a bit, and then I responded, “Well, Fuzzy, I love you. I know that you think through things a lot. So, I’d trust you wherever you took us. If you suddenly decided that you wanted to get up and move to a remote farm somewhere in the middle of France, then I’d be up for it.” Fuck this dumb ass country and these dumb people here!

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” Chris exclaimed in response. “If I get to that point of insanity, you better get a gun and just shoot me in the head!”

Then, he paused, realizing how abrupt his reply was, and said, “That’s a very sweet sentiment. But it’s still insane and would never happen! I would much rather move to Staten Island than move to a fucking farm!”

Welp. It doesn’t seem to matter if I bring up constructive criticism or compliment. Either way, my chosen life partner will not accept it.

Kaia drags her friends and cow costume around all over the house

Since Kaia was just shy of two years old, she started developing an attachment to her Peter Rabbit stuffed animal. Prior to that, she did not care about any stuffed animal at all. Peter Rabbit traveled with us to multiple places, always at Kaia’s side. Then, she eventually got bored of him and stopped caring. She goes in and out with attachments to random stuffed animals she has, whether it’s Lychee, her rainbow build-a-bear, Irene, her teething bunny stuffed animal, or Simon, a monkey that Chris’s friend got her this last Australia visit. But I’d say that since October of last year, when Chris introduced her to her cow costume for Halloween, that’s when she REALLY got attached to something. That cow costume goes all over this apartment, and she oftentimes will snuggle and sleep with it. When she comes over to our bed at some point in the night, she always, always drags the cow costume over, as well.

Last night, she dragged the cow costume to our bed but forgot about Irene at around 5am when she came over. And she started whining, “Irene! Irene! I want Irene!” She says this expecting that I will go grab it for her. So, I do the mommy thing and go to her room and grab Irene. And then she snuggles both and falls asleep in our bed, right between us, until about 7am.

It’s really cute and sweet to see her attachments to these objects, these “friends” who give her comfort. It’s always a little adventure to see what attachments she has, lets go of, and what she moves onto. It’s one of the little joys of watching her grow up and evolve that I love observing.

Yemeni coffee houses in New York City

Several years ago, Chris and I were walking along Bedford Avenue in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and we walked into Qahwah Coffee House. It’s a Yemeni coffee house originally from Dearborn, Michigan, and they take their coffee very, very seriously. There are endless types of beans and preparations available, and they also had delicious spiced milky tea options. The pastries and desserts on display looked sweet and appetizing, and the space was quite huge for a regular coffee shop in New York City. Since then, we’ve gone in there a number of times; they’ve also expanded and now have a location in the West Village. A few other Yemeni style coffee shops have since opened across the boroughs, and the latest one I am aware of is Haraz Coffee House. They have a location in Astoria, Queens, and a semi-new location on Spring Street in downtown Manhattan.

I went there to meet a friend on Friday for tea and dessert, and I was shocked at how big it was. There were endless seats and tables, mostly unoccupied at around 2pm. They had a really large selection of tea and coffee drinks, plus pastries and sweets. The service was fast and friendly. They had a restroom (yes!), and the Wi-Fi was complimentary. I had a quick Zoom meeting before my friend came to meet me, and we ordered the saffron adeni tea pot and the Dubai (pistachio) milk cake. The saffron tea was just like an Indian spiced chai, heavy on the saffron and cardamom, which I loved. The serving was quite generous and served beautifully on a big tray. And the milk cake was really soft, moist, bursting with pistachios and nutty goodness. My friend, who is a night owl, marveled over this place before we came, because she said that unlike most coffee shops, this spot actually stayed open until 11pm. I told her it was meant to be a Muslim meetup spot since Muslims traditionally do not drink alcohol, so bars would not be the go-to hangout spot. As we were leaving, the coffee house filled up, but it was a comfortable, clean, and fun place to hang out for a few hours. And as a bonus, I never felt like someone was going to come and rush me out.

I could definitely get used to these types of coffee spots opening all over New York. It’s nice to have a coffee shop that has ample seating and isn’t just a to-go counter.

Toddler cuteness elicits freebies and kindnesses everywhere we go

The very rare times I encounter rude people in public, whether it’s on the streets or on the subway while with Kaia, I always quickly remind myself that those rude moments, those annoying, un-empathetic people, are the exception to the rule. The vast majority of the time, people are neutral to friendly to over the top kind. Once last week, Chris forgot to refill our OMNY card for the week, and I didn’t realize this. When I take her through the turnstiles, I usually have Kaia duck her head and go under the turnstile, and then I quickly tap to enter. But given the OMNY card wasn’t refilled, it gave me a red error message and said that I could not go through. I immediately realized the card wasn’t topped up, and given Kaia was standing all by herself on the other side of the turnstiles waiting for me, I got nervous she would run off and didn’t feel comfortable going out to look for an OMNY refill kiosk. So I just tapped my phone to pay for a swipe and entered. But that entire time, Kaia realized something was wrong. Instead of running off, she just kept peering over at me, saying several times, “What happened? What’s wrong? It’s not working.” And that whole time, a caring woman inside the station, who had observed the whole situation, lightly hovered over Kaia to protect her and make sure she did not run away from me.

Another day on the subway to school, the train was packed. Kaia wanted to sit on an open middle seat. Both men in the two surrounding seats got up and asked me to sit. I told both of them thank you, but that wasn’t necessarily, and I certainly did NOT need two seats for myself!

Another toddler tantrum occurred just a block away from our apartment earlier this week. Kaia sat on the ground and refused to walk. She said she wanted chocolate and that she was “too tired” to walk. I tried every threat and bribe I could think of over five minutes, but she would not yield. Another kind woman came up to us, clearly coming back home from work, and said hi to Kaia, and suggested that she go home with her. When she tried to pick Kaia up, Kaia screamed and yelled. But eventually, Kaia got up and started walking with me.

I guess in some ways, you could say that these total strangers, these fellow New Yorkers, are like the extended “village” that Chris, Kaia, and I have. We don’t know each other. We likely would never recognize the other if our paths crossed again. But at the end of the day, we’re all people just trying to live our lives to the best of our ability, and that means just being kind when we can to others, even if we don’t know each other. I always think of these moments when people joke or actually say that New Yorkers are rude or mean, or that people must just be out for themselves in this concrete jungle.

Today, while we were out exploring another part of Forest Hills we haven’t seen before, we popped into an Italian bakery so that Chris could try one of their hot cross buns. Like many Italian bakeries, this bakery had a huge spread of beautiful cookies that you could buy and pay for by the weight — it ranged from rainbow cookies, jam-thumb print cookies, to biscotti and the related. Kaia got excited when she saw all the cookies and declared she wanted some. Chris did not take well to this and said, “No cookies,” and walked out with his hot cross bun. Kaia was unhappy and started whining. The woman behind the counter, taking pity on Kaia, told Kaia that she could pick which cookie she liked best, and she would get one. Kaia chose the black and white checkerboard cookie, and when I reached into my wallet to pay, the woman insisted it was on the house. “It’s for sweet baby,” she insisted. “No money needed! I just want to make her happy!”

I wonder when the “toddler/young child cuteness yields free stuff” will end, and when Kaia’s freebies and constant acts of kindness on the part of strangers will end. I hope the latter never ends for her, regardless of her age or the chubbiness of her face.

“Startling” laugh

I was out at a Yemeni cafe having saffron adeni tea and Dubai milk cake with a friend, when out of nowhere she said that she “has gotten used to” my laugh. I wasn’t sure what to say about this and waited for her to continue. “When I first met you and heard it, I found it a bit startling,” she said. “But now it just blends in and I anticipate it now!” I kind of chuckled at this when she said it because I wasn’t sure whether she was saying a good thing or a bad thing.

I told her that I’ve always had a loud laugh, and that in general, people either love or hate it, and if they hate it, chances are high that we won’t get along or be friends. I’m not really one of those Asian women who, stereotypically as Chris always half jokes, “covers their mouth and goes ‘heeheehee!'” really lightly. People should live their lives as their full selves without abandon. And if you cannot laugh comfortably or fully, I”m not really sure you are fun enough for me to want to be around.

This comment, for some reason, reminded me of my one of my best friends from childhood, who is now living here in New York City. I think that if there is just one thing I love about her, aside from her general personality, it’s her laugh. When she is really laughing and finds something extremely funny, her laugh is the loudest, most boisterous thing in the world. She has a laugh that almost makes you want to laugh along with her, even if you don’t find said topic funny. And so when we’re together laughing nonstop about something, I always notice that there is at least one or two tables around us (assuming we’re at a restaurant or bar) that will turn around and look at us. I’ve never gotten self conscious about it or seen that as a way to police us. If anything, I’ve always looked at it as: we’re just here having a good time. And if that bothers you in some way, then the problem is clearly you and not us. Who gets annoyed at other people having a good time in their own respective space?

Persian Adasi (lentil) stew

While still on my Persian cooking kick, I decided to also make some Persian style lentils, also known as adasi (lentils) stew. I soaked some brown lentils overnight, chopped up onions and garlic, and then simply used turmeric, cumin, and cinnamon to spice the lentils and simmered them for about 45 minutes. And when I seasoned and did a taste test, I just thought… wow. This is so warm and hearty tasting, and there’s no animal product in it at all. And though turmeric, cumin, and cinnamon are all spices that cross both Persian and Indian cultures, the resulting flavor is so, so different than any Indian dal you would ever eat, home cooked or at a restaurant. I was texting this with my Persian friend, who also agreed how interesting it was, while also nothing that at one time, they are all one empire. Then, they broke off and developed their own techniques and ways of cooking that are slightly the same, yet different.

I occasionally still meet people who are anti beans, who think beans are gross, give you gas, and should be avoided. I really think that if they had a lentil stew like this Persian version that they would be hard pressed to say it was revolting.

Persian cooking

Given that we are now officially in spring, the Persian New Year, aka, Nowruz, has also come. At my last company, I made a Persian friend who was on my team, who also loved food. We spent a lot of time talking about food, different cultural traditions, and the first time we met, the two of us were actually charged with preparing food for two days for my team’s offsite at a semi-remote house in Northern California. The more she talked about Persian food, the more I started reading about it and got into it. And so I started experimenting more with Persian dishes like Persian lentils, rice, chicken and fish. I was amazed at how much saffron can be used in Persian cooking, as I’d never really known what to do with saffron before Persian or Indian cooking. I’d bought a number of small bottles of it from Costco, during travels in India, and had been gifted them by Chris’s mom. But given that saffron is actually more expensive by weight than diamonds, I always used it sparingly.

This week, in light of Nowruz, I made Persian sabzi polo, or Persian herbed rice with tahdig, or crispy bottomed rice, as well as slow-cooked salmon with herbs and spices. I had bought a massive amount of cilantro, parsley, dill, and scallions just for these two dishes. And as Chris watched me chop up a bunch of herbs, he looks at all the greens across the kitchen counter and goes, “We can’t eat herbs!” He meant we couldn’t *just* eat herbs for dinner, but because he said that sentence so slowly and didn’t say much after that, he made it sound like herbs were inedible. I reminded him how lucky he is to have such a varied diet with all my creative cooking even when he randomly forgets that yes, herbs actually are edible, to which he responded, “I give you a varied diet by taking you all over the freaking world!” Talk about men who don’t seem to take feedback well…