Kaia’s first real play date outside of daycare

Yesterday, the three of us met Kaia’s bestie from her class named Jacob and his parents (and their newborn in a sling) and took a trip to the Central Park Zoo together. Jacob’s dad had reached out to Chris, as they usually dropped off the kids together in the morning and had become friendly. We all knew that Kaia and Jacob got along really well and could be seen frequently holding hands and running around class and the multi-purpose room together. While we enjoyed our catch up and seeing the animals together, it was actually a little bittersweet: though the two were close, it seems like a lot of these things have to come to an end, as Jacob and his family would soon be relocating to New Jersey. His parents are under contract with a new house, and with their expanding family, they will need more space. Plus, they’ll also be closer to both sides of their families.

I remember being in pre-school and elementary school and always being sad when a friend moved away and left. You inevitably knew you were never going to see each other again. But I wonder if that even resonates with Kaia and Jacob at their ages. Or who knows: maybe we as parents may loosely keep in touch, and maybe there might actually be future play dates after they move. Only time will tell.

Lunar New Year Day 2024 in Flushing

The three of us went to Flushing on Saturday, which marked Lunar New Year Day 2024, or year of the dragon. When we got off the train and up to the street level, it was in the middle of a huge Lunar New Year parade, complete with fire crackers and endless music and manual fire crackers being set off. We ended up going to Jiang Nan for our main meal, where we enjoyed a fancy Peking duck with beautiful and delicate house-made pancakes, as well as an accompanying duck, tofu, and vegetable soup made with the bones of our duck. It was likely one of the most delicious and rich broths we’d ever tasted. Even Pookster gobbled up this soup and kept asking for seconds and thirds. She even gnawed the meat off of several duck leg bones.

What was also notable about our visit to Flushing was that we stumbled upon a very discreet and easy-to-overlook Taiwanese bakery. I poked my head in to see what was there, and unfortunately, a lot of seemingly popular items had already sold out since it was mid-afternoon. But I did pick up a loaf of white bread, a Taiwanese-style taro bao (it doesn’t look like the ones I usually get!), and two Taiwanese style pineapple cakes. All of the things we got were incredible: the taro bao was extremely crunchy with just the right amount of sweetness on the outside. The taro filling was light and also not too sweet, but very creamy. And the pineapple cakes were a stunner: super flaky and buttery on the outside, with a thick, chunky pineapple filling on the inside that was jammy with just the right amount of sweetness. This was as close to the incredible pineapple cakes we got while in Taiwan. I was obsessed. I still cannot believe it’s taken me this long to find this place while in New York! Taiwanese bakeries are a rarity here; I hope this place never closes!

Afternoon tea in New York City: Slowly but surely changing

For as long as I’ve lived in New York City, I’ve never really enjoyed the afternoon tea scene here. It’s massively overpriced for what it is — a glorified dry, crusty sandwich spread with subpar fillings, overhyped British style desserts that are also boring and dry, with a mediocre pot of tea. And it usually has a $100/head sticker price simply because the ambiance and decor of the place appear to have an exterior poshness, and the ceramics that the tea and tiny bites are all served in are supposedly fine or bone china. Regardless, since I did it with a visiting friend in 2022, I’ve decided: no more, never again, and not in this city. I would happily do afternoon tea in Asia, the UK, or Australia, where the afternoon tea spreads are still pricey, but sumptuous and incredible in both the amount and quality of food you get. New York City is just not a city for afternoon tea as hard as it may try.

So I was intrigued when I saw a new Thai dessert place called Sarisa Cafe open in Midtown East that was supposed to be “Thai afternoon tea.” The spread on the tiered dessert tray was fully desserts, but with a pot of blooming tea, it would be $65 for two people, which seemed like a bargain price in the city. So my friend and I went, and while it certainly wasn’t a lot of food (we had eaten lunch before coming here for dessert), the quality of the desserts was top-notch: they have an open kitchen where you can see the workers hand forming and making each individual dessert. The tea spot is tucked away on the second floor of a building and even has an outdoor patio that they plan to open in the summer time. It felt like a tranquil oasis far away from the concrete jungle we were in the middle of. I love the way they decorated the place, and the service was excellent.

So, maybe I will just avoid the “traditional” afternoon tea places, but I am more than happy to try spots like this that are a bit different and add variety to the New York City food scene. This city definitely doesn’t appreciate Thai desserts enough and needs more of an education on this topic, perhaps by spots like Sarisa Cafe.

Shellfish cooking class with political commentary and a white gaze

Yesterday night, I attended a shellfish cooking class that Chris gifted me for Christmas in Little Italy. It’s funny for me to even say that it’s in “Little Italy” because it’s just about two blocks away from the main Chinatown area I always shop in. I came in a little early and was the only person who was carrying massive canvas bags that were clearly stuffed to the brim with groceries. The teacher looked excited to see that I went shopping.

“Oh, yes! It’s so great to get your shopping done down here! Did you check out Eataly and Despana?” she asked.

I told her that I actually was shopping in Chinatown, and she didn’t have much of a response to that. It was like she had zero awareness that the majority of this surrounding area is NOT actually Italian, but mostly Chinese.

That was the first hint of the “white gaze” that I got even before the class started. I’ve been in a class at this same cooking school with this instructor, and while she certainly is not my favorite teacher, I never knew her to be so political during her classes. She made a number of random jabs at former members of Trump’s cabinet while he was president, and while I got all of them and chuckled a few times, no one else really had much of a reaction. When she made a joke about how incompetent Betsy DeVos was and how it was clear no one was in public school in this class during her reign and I laughed, she looked at me, then around at the other students, and said, “Well, at least one person here has been paying attention to politics!” I didn’t really mind these comments, but I’d imagine other people who might not agree with her would be bothered and caught off guard by these words, especially since this was supposed to be a cooking class.

The annoying parts came when she was talking about the production and farming of some of these types of shellfish, and she made some very big assertions that for seafood like shrimp, we should be buying “only” American shrimp caught in the Gulf because “it’s the best,” and she also made comments about how all farmed shrimp is questionable and produced with the equivalent of slave labor. It seemed like such a pro-American, anti-everywhere else in the world comment, plus she occasionally knocked seafood farms in Asia. First of all, I don’t think that Gulf-caught shrimp would be the undisputed “best” shrimp option one can eat or buy; that sounds not only ignorant, but also just racist against other places that produce it. Secondly, if you really want to have a conversation about slave labor, does she honestly think that the people working in seafood farms and catching “the best” Gulf shrimp are all paid fair wages that would afford them comfortable lives…?

We also talked about the eating of things like mussels and clams. She said that it’s customary, when serving bivalves, to always give diners an empty bowl to put their shells in after they finish. She mentioned how if we were in a country like Vietnam, you could just throw your shells on the floor, and some worker would rush to sweep them all up for you. A number of people (my class was 70% white, with one Asian (me), one Latino guy, and one Black guy) were shocked when the teacher shared this.

“Why?” some of them asked, truly astonished.

“Well, it gives someone a job, so why not?” she said, with a bit of an eye roll. It sounded a bit judgmental, and also disparaging to the Vietnamese businesses in that country for doing this. She also did not give off the tone that she approved of this being a job.

In general, I dislike commentary like this because it is almost always said with a “white gaze” in mind, the notion that the Western or American way is better or “the best,” and it doesn’t factor in cultural nuances at all. Plenty of judgment could equally be made about what we consider suitable jobs here in this country, or how people in different service roles are paid: Why do we have “bus boys” when wait staff could easily clear and clean your table? Why the hell should “front of house staff” have higher wages than “back of house staff” or kitchen staff when the kitchen staff are actually the people preparing diners’ food — you know, the reason people are eating out?!

I highly doubt she would consider the idea that seafood farm practices in countries like New Zealand, Australia, or Finland would yield higher quality seafood than in U.S. surrounding waters, or pay higher wages. I also doubt this instructor has probably ever even visited Oceania to make the statement that Gulf-caught shrimp are the best, just as another point of comparison.

At some point of my life when I was younger, I’m sure I was one of those same smart asses who thought I knew a lot, or at least, way more than I actually did. I have since gradually relented, and now, I’m more eager to say that every day, I realize more and more how little I know as I learn more things (sounds ironic, but it isn’t). But I do try to be intentional about sharing what I know and caveating it, and I rarely will make a statement like, “gulf shrimp is the best in the world” unless I’m just being hyperbolic — the best, according to… her?

Manhattan Chinatown during the Lunar New Year period

While I always enjoy any Chinatown visit in any city anywhere in the world, I always enjoy visiting Manhattan or Flushing Chinatown during the Lunar New Year period because it makes me happy and reminds me of home. I love seeing all the Lunar New Year flowers, tassels, red envelopes and decorations everywhere (even when I’ve never bought these things, the sheer sight of them gets me excited). I love seeing the different zodiac sign and its caricatures everywhere; this year, it’s the dragon, and there are so many beautiful pictures, signs, paintings, and red envelope designs with the dragon sign on them that you can purchase. It’s also fun to see all the seasonal specialties being sold at bakeries, whether it’s deep-fried sesame balls filled with red bean paste or black sesame paste, fa gao (these cupcake-sized mini sponge cakes that split on the top and are symbolic of good luck and prosperity), nian gao (sweet sticky rice cake usually topped with red dates and white sesame seeds), and all the “trays of togetherness,” — big, round trays filled with various Chinese candies, meant to bring in “sweetness” for the new year. Okay, I’ll be honest: those trays of togetherness are fun to see and are fun to present as gifts because they do appear quite grand. But ugh, I always was so sad when I was little, hoping one of the candy varieties would be something delicious; instead, they were mostly overly sweet, chalky, weirdly chewy things that I never understood anyone could actually enjoy eating. Instead, now I am seeing “updated” or “modern” trays of togetherness that are no longer plastic trays, but wooden trays, filled with homemade, handmade candies… and cost a small fortune. But hey, if you want high quality food and gifts (trays) that last, why not spend the money on these because it will help pave the way to good luck and prosperity for the new year!

This is the first year since… I can’t even remember, when I’ll be hosting a Lunar New Year meal once again, and I’m pretty excited. I’ve already outlined my menu, and I bought a good chunk of the ingredients I’d need for it tonight. That also meant it was like carrying bricks home on my back and shoulders this evening. And it’s not the last Chinatown haul needed, as I’ll need to make at least one more trip closer to the date for fresh produce closer to the date (February 17). But when you think of all the labor and time that goes into devising menus, outlining what ingredients you need to buy and from where, going out to actually get all the ingredients, then organizing everything and cooking, it is no wonder most people today forgo the entire home cooking effort and just outsource everything, whether it’s ordering all this food as takeaway and eating it at home, or just going out for a good new year meal. The sad part about all that, though, is that this means no one would be able to fully comprehend the love, effort, and skill that goes into making these very special dishes. And what is the fun in that?

The sad story of the shared chicken drumstick

While I was away on my work trip last week, Chris decided to defrost some of the chicken drumsticks in our freezer and make a Malaysian-style curry. There weren’t a lot of drumsticks, so he decided to ration them out to make them last at least five days. So when I came back with Kaia after picking her up from daycare, he had prepared our dinner bowls, but only his bowl had a drumstick in it, and mine did not. Kaia had a drumstick with some chicken pieces torn off it on her dinner plate.

“How come there’s only one drum stick you warmed up?” I asked him.

“Well, I want to make the chicken last because there weren’t that many drumsticks and we don’t have that much (cooked) food left, so we can share one,” he responded.

I always thought that wherever we lived was always “food rich.” It doesn’t matter what point of time you are referring to: we usually have a freezer brimming with frozen meat, seafood, and vegetables, amongst other ingredients I use for cooking, whether it’s frozen cubes of stock, tomato onion masala, curry leaves, frozen shredded coconut or purple yam. I have from-scratch made sauces and pickled things in our fridge, plus plenty of fresh produce in the vegetable and fruit drawers. Some food in the freezer is ready to eat once you pop it into the oven for 25 minutes, while others (like my zongzi and banh chung from Chinatown) are ready after you steam them for 15-20 minutes. Our pantry is stocked well with plenty of dried noodles, pasta, mushrooms, and canned goods. But this chicken drumstick incident honestly seemed completely ridiculous and made me feel like we were extremely food poor. Where the hell had our life gone awry where two grown-ass adults living in a luxury apartment building in the middle of Manhattan were sharing a SINGLE chicken drumstick for dinner…?

I gave Chris some grief about this and shared my sentiments above. He proceeded to not get another drumstick. Instead, he simply took one small bite of the drumstick, then put it in my bowl. No, that did NOT make a difference with my sentiments.

This is what happens when I am not here to cook regularly. We end up with faux food rationing, and I cannot handle it. It’s a good thing I am back to take care of the food preparation in this house.

New work laptop excitement

At my company, I’m allowed to request a new computer every three years. Given that I have already been at my company for 3.5 years, I decided to put in the request and specify that I no longer wanted a Macbook Air, but rather a Macbook Pro. Although the Air is great because it’s extremely lightweight and easy to carry around, I actually hated using it. Once I had anything more than Chrome, Safari, and Slack running at the same time, the entire machine would run really slowly. If I had Excel running at the same time, the fan would go on overdrive. And don’t even get me started when I had to start using Microsoft Teams more frequently this past year due to customers who can only use Teams for video calls. It was like my computer was about to croak one last time before exploding on me.

So I had the new laptop shipped to me last week, and I spent some time today adding all my necessary applications and files on, as well as configuring it exactly as I’d like. I LOVE this computer. I cannot even believe how much I like it. I don’t really keep track of the latest updates to Apple products and other technology the way a lot of people in my industry do because I can’t really be bothered, but the updates to this computer are incredible. Yes, it’s a bit heavier than the Air, but it doesn’t get mad at me when I have Microsoft Teams running; no fan is screaming at me. And the best part about this new version of the Macbook is that it has a touch button so that I don’t constantly have to type in all my passwords all the time. This is amazing!

On the downside, as soon as I came back from Denver and tried to use my 3+ year old wireless head set, it decided to die on me. So now I need to find a new head set that I don’t hate to go with this new Macbook Pro!

Blessed is she who gets to meet interesting, good-hearted people everywhere

I’ve been in a customer-facing role for the vast majority of my career. It has certainly had its challenges and frustrations, but I would say that overall, the role suits me since I do enjoy (most) people, and I love hearing people’s personal stories. The more you work with people, whether they are internal or external / customers, the more they are willing to open up to you about their own personal stories and what actually makes them unique. I think everyone has interesting stories to share if they are given the opportunity to share them. But you’ll never get to this point unless you build a relationship and ask. Once the relationship is built, you have permission to ask and actually get a thoughtful, real response.

Today, I met a customer I’ve been working with for the last 3.5 years for the very first time in person. He happened to be in town for a quick 36-hour trip and suggested we have lunch together, so I picked a fun lunch spot near his hotel in Times Square. I originally blocked two hours for lunch, knowing he’s a talker, but the lunch actually went over three hours long until I told him I had another meeting to run home to. He’s an interesting guy who clearly loves the people in his life. Last year, he had shared that his best friend, who lives in California, was having a medical procedure done and would need help around the house and with her teenage child. So he drove his car all the way from Virginia to be with her for a couple months and help out. I’d never heard of someone being so selfless.

This time, he shared the story of his three (now grown) children. The first was adopted. He and his then-wife struggled for five years to conceive despite all their fertility tests coming out normal. So they proceeded to adopt, and shortly after adopting, became pregnant (it seems like once you stop trying, getting pregnant seems to suddenly work in so many cases!). They ended up having one adopted child and two biological children. The first two, he almost fully paid for their college tuitions since they qualified for no financial aid. The third got a full ride at her first choice college, and so because he “saved” money by not paying for four years of her undergraduate tuition, he said he would buy her a brand new car, which he did. I was really touched when I heard this story; he wanted to treat all his kids equally, but in the end, because he didn’t have to pay for the third child’s schooling, he decided to “make it up” to her with new wheels.

“I love all my kids equally,” he insisted to me. I believe what he says. “I just want them to know that I love them, and I want them to enjoy life and get the opportunities I never had. And if I can afford it, then why the hell not buy a damn car for her?”

I always hear stories like this and am amazed by people’s hearts and generosity. And well, frankly, I know that if I had been lucky enough to get a full scholarship anywhere, my parents would NEVER have bought me a brand new car!

Ronny Chieng: on judgement and social hierarchy, and how it applies to the workplace

Tonight, we went to see Ronny Chieng’s sold out show at Radio City Music Hall. If you asked me when I was in middle or high school whether I thought I would be seeing Asian or Asian American comedians as “mainstream” in my thirties, I would have thought it wasn’t possible because the U.S. could only see “black or white.” So I’m happy to see when I am proven wrong. I guess America (and the West, for that matter), IS selectively able to accept Asians in show business.

It was another show, similar to Vir Das’s show the previous weekend, where I laughed so hard at moments that I almost cried. At this show, though, there were so many relatable moments that my face nearly hurt after from all the laughing and smiling. One of the moments that I could definitely empathize with, especially given our annual kickoff that had just ended this week at work, was his discussion and commentary on “social hierarchy,” how whenever he goes back to Singapore or meets up with his friends and former classmates from there that it always feels like people are trying to size him up, see where exactly they stand vis a vis him. And it’s hard with him because he’s a comedian, so you can’t instantly group him into the lawyers or the doctors or whatever other careers are “expected” in Asian culture. He’s in show business, and it’s not easy to “type” him into a specific income bracket or level of success because of that.

I don’t feel this constant judgment about “social hierarchy” with my friends, especially since I’ve parsed down my friends list so much that anyone I still maintain semi-regular contact with is a good friend, someone who I’d consider has a good heart and isn’t just with me because of my income bracket. But where I feel this the most is at the last two company kickoff events. Each person at these conferences has to wear a lanyard with a badge attached to it with their name and title. Sales people are pretty cliquey; most of them stay amongst themselves. If they go out of their groups, they’re trying to meet and connect with people “higher up” than they are on the corporate ladder, people who can help them or get them something they want. I can feel the gaze of many people walking by me, staring down at my badge, sizing me up to see if I’m important enough, based on my title, for them to introduce themselves to or even talk to. Most people who have higher titles rarely give me the time of day unless we have worked together previously; they are quick to stop our small talk so that they can go schmooze and hang out with their “equals or above.” Do I really care about this? Not really. But I do notice it, and I do find it pretty funny because at the end of the day, the vast majority of us are not running this company. We’re not effecting that much change at the individual level. We’re all just working minions here for our paychecks and our perks. We’re not in Elon Musk’s tax bracket. If you want to be snobby and stick with people at “your own level” or judge me simply because of my title, I don’t really care because I not only don’t know you, but I probably don’t want to know you. But the judgment and “sizing people up” is definitely real in corporate America. And while it’s annoying, it’s something you just have to live with and navigate as long as you want to participate in the rat race.

Buy-Nothing group brings goodies in the form of: shrimp stock!

One of the greatest communities I’ve ever joined has most definitely been the Facebook Buy-Nothing group within the walking radius of my apartment. In the last year, not only have I been able to give away plenty of things that we no longer needed or found useful, but I’ve also scored endless great things for the apartment, Pookster, and myself. The vast majority has been toys, books, and clothes for Kaia, but we’ve also gotten some occasional goodies for ourselves here and there, including Bundaberg ginger beer for Chris, and today: shrimp stock for me!

Hot Thai Kitchen recently posted a video a few months ago on her channel about how easy it actually is to make good laksa… as long as you have access to good shrimp stock. How do you make shrimp stock? With shrimp heads, shells, and tails! It’s difficult (nearly impossible) to find shrimp heads on shrimp when you buy them at places like Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods, but more likely if you buy them from Asian grocery stores. So I’d been collecting a few sparse shrimp heads, shells, and tails from takeout food we’ve gotten and throwing them into a small bag in our freezer for future stock. When I saw someone post that she had 7 1-cup cubes of homemade shrimp stock, I immediately raised my hand. I went to pick up the cubes from her apartment (very shrimpy smelling, so a good sign!), but she told me that she used random herbs like oregano, rosemary, thyme, and bay leaf (she said she didn’t cook much, so she basically threw her spice cabinet at the pot!). So now I’m not sure I’ll use this for laksa, as it may not have the right flavor profile I’m going for, but I can still use it as a soup base or a flavor base for grains like farro, quinoa, or even just plain rice.

Normally, I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking food like this from a stranger. But this particular Buy-Nothing group almost feels like extended family with how honest and considerate people are, and so I’ve really enjoyed being a part of it. The verdict for the goodness of this shrimp stock awaits when I come back from my Denver work trip later this week!