Category Archives: Contemplations on New York Life

Getting older: Different vibes in the same places

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My friend is visiting from San Francisco this week for work, so we went out to dinner tonight at an izakaya in the East Village. While the food was fine, it wasn’t anything to get excited about, and there was no “wow” factor in any single dish of the small plates/bowls we ordered. It was a bit of a downer (and when I shared this with Chris, he poked at me for glorifying the East Village dining scene… which is probably fair in this case). But at least it gave us some quiet time to catch up without many others around. Similar to how we would “open” restaurants in Uruguay and Argentina, we ended up being the first guests to arrive at 6pm here, and no one really started coming in until around 7:30 when we getting towards the end of our meal.

Afterwards, we chatted while walking all the way up to Koreatown, where we ended up at HHD (Heuk Hwa Dang), an international Korean franchise of bubble tea, croffles, specialty drinks, shaved ice, and coffee. Unusual for Koreatown, the space is very large, with plenty of tables, as well as large “step” seating, and the menu for desserts is huge. So we shared a massive mango strawberry “snowflake” (it’s essentially a shaved ice, except with shaved sweetened milk “ice”), generously topped with freshly cut fruit, jellies, and some soft-serve vanilla ice cream. As we spoke, we realized that our own voices had to keep getting louder and louder because we were surrounded by other people who were at least 10-15 years younger than us, talking and laughing loudly while enjoying their own shared snowflakes.

My friend chuckled and said, “It’s as though I can’t hear because it’s so loud in here… I keep straining to hear you! Are we getting older and just can’t tolerate this much noise, or are the acoustics here just that bad?”

It’s probably a little of A and B. We prefer quieter places to catch up when we see each other since we don’t see each other too often living on opposite ends of the country. Yes, the acoustics were pretty poor. But it was comical to think that while we would have been happy spending hours hanging out at a place this loud and young in our early 20s, now in our late 30s, there’s definitely a limit to how much time we want to be at these places. We don’t necessarily blend in because of our age and how we dress into crowds like these anymore. And as much as I love the East Village, I am definitely on the older side when it comes to people wandering around its streets now, even if I can still pass for much younger.

Indonesian food: Under-rated, under appreciated

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When I lived in Elmhurst, Queens, from 2008-2012, I felt like Elmhurst was always this under-the-radar type neighborhood in Queens that never really got its due. Then, the rents were cheap, the area was safe for families and kids (it still is, in both regards, relatively speaking). And what was top of mind to me was that the food was so, so eclectic. Before I lived in Elmhurst, I had zero idea what Indonesian food was. So to think that I finally lived in a neighborhood where, on a single block, I could pick up Colombian pastries, eat Indian-Chinese fusion, have authentic Taiwanese breakfast, grab some fresh tomatillos for homemade salsa verde, and then have a full Indonesian lunch spread, was just mind-boggling.

We came back to Elmhurst yesterday and stumbled across a coffee shop that turns into a fun wine bar at night called Elm Roastery, right on Broadway, which is the main artery of Elmhurst. We ordered an ube latte and a jasmine lemonade, both of which tasted strongly of what they are made of (you’d be shocked how often this is not the case). The service was very warm and friendly. The decor was modern, sleek, and chic. There are ample tables where you can meet up with friends one on one or in small groups. And they have a large open counter that is designated a laptop-free zone (which I LOVE) where it’s meant for socializing and meeting new people. One of the walls was lined with handmade items for purchase, all made by local Queens-based artists so that locals can buy local. The bathroom was huge, well designed, and even had a European-style changing table (very similar to the ones I used when in Germany), complete with a cushion for your little one and thoughtful little shelves for you to temporarily place things like diapers, wipes, and diaper cream. We used this, and I was so grateful to have a cushion for Kaia and to not change her on the floor. I was stunned; 12 years ago, I would have loved for a spot to be like this in my ‘hood! It’s the time for the rest of New York City to finally embrace Elmhurst now that fun spots like these are popping up!

We revisited one Indonesian spot that I’d eaten at with a friend about ten years ago. Then, it was called Sky Cafe, but it has since been renamed to Sumatera. The owner retired, but the staff, chef, and menu remained the same. When I’d visited here before, I had never been to Indonesia. So coming here now, I actually had something solid to reference. And this meal was just like a meal I’d get in Jakarta or Yogyakarta: we ordered nasi padang bungkus, which is basically a big stuffed banana leaf with a variety of delicious things, like seasoned rice, a boiled egg, beef rendang, savory jackfruit curry, spiced shredded kale, and sambal; mie complit, which is a big bowl of chewy wheat-based noodles topped with ground chicken, bouncy beef and fish balls, a soy-sauce marinated egg, bok choy, deep-fried wontons (fried to order!), with a side bowl of deeply flavored chicken soup; an avocado shake (topped with Milo!!); and while all the above was beyond delicious and flavorful, the biggest highlight for me was the homemade cendol, made to order. The first time I’d ever had gula melaka, this nutty, toasty palm sugar that comes from a specific type of coconut palm found in Southeast Asia, it was in Yogyakarta in a cendol. The flavor was so deep, nutty, toasty, and distinct that no regular granulated sugar could have replicated the same flavor. Here, when we ordered it, the server warned it it would take some time to make. They were literally churning out the cendol jellies to order, which were green from pandan. They added the jellies to a tall glass of ice, coconut milk, and thick, brown gula melaka. And after I had just one sip, I was taken back to Indonesia. The flavor was exactly the same. It was as though I was brought to Indonesian dessert heaven.

Indonesian food is a rare find in the U.S., but I’m grateful to have semi-easy access to it here in New York City, in my original neighborhood of Elmhurst, in my original New York borough of Queens.

Catch ups over black sesame lattes and chamomile mango mousse

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Chris always gets annoyed with me whenever I say that I don’t love our general neighborhood (Hell’s Kitchen / Upper West Side) for food. It’s not that I think the food options are terrible here (they are NOT by any standard), but it’s more that when I think of incredible places to eat with a lot of variety (cuisines) at multiple price points, these two neighborhoods that we’re right in the middle of are not within the top 10 (or even 20) across all of New York City for me. However, what I have noticed in the last five years is that a number of places that originally open in areas like East Village (my dream eating neighborhood), Lower East Side, or other great food areas downtown, are now opening their second or third locations in this general area. One of those places is Patisserie Fouet, which has been on my radar for a while. It’s owned and run by a Japanese pastry chef who was trained in French pastry, so the desserts are very much French in technique with hints of Asian flavors here and there. She opened her first location in the Union Square area (complete with a dessert tasting menu), and she decided to open a second location just eight blocks away from us in Hell’s Kitchen, in front of a popular udon spot called Raku. Raku is likely my favorite udon place in all of New York City. I went to their first (and then only location) about ten years ago and was obsessed with the udon and all the dishes I ate there with a friend. Since then, they’ve opened two other locations, one in SoHo and one in Hell’s Kitchen. So now, that’s two popular, fun, and semi-trendy places that are downtown that have now come uptown within short walking distance of us!

I went to Patisserie Fouet in Hell’s Kitchen and met my friend there for a mid-afternoon catch-up. We shared two desserts, while she had a cold brew barley tea, and I enjoyed an iced black sesame latte. I have always preferred one-on-one catch ups over group catchups, but I particularly love meeting with this friend 1:1 because she is so empathetic, insightful, and pointed in her questions and observations. She doesn’t shy away from vulnerable topics and instead, actually invites them. She sees a lot of things in people that most others either never notice or don’t want to point out. The older I get, and the more entrenched in being a parent I become, the harder it is to make real, lasting friendships with people who I find genuinely interesting. And in group situations, it can get awkward very quickly to discuss any touchy topic or anything seemingly exposing of yourself. So I feel thankful I’ve found this friend and we can be totally open and share unflattering things about ourselves, things we’ve done, and our relationships, and that it doesn’t negatively impact how we see each other. In fact, it actually does the opposite: it helps us better relate to and respect each other for being so candid… and being open about the fact that we’re all deeply flawed individuals who are just trying to do their best in life and with others. If anything, we should applaud ourselves for having that level of self-awareness to see that we probably do “wrong” things all the time but do make an intentional attempt to be better and do better.

Doing all the things with your visiting friend that you cannot normally do with littles

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A friend of mine who lives in San Francisco is coming to New York for work next week, and so we’re planning to meet up on Monday and Thursday night. She’s extended her trip to stay with us for Thursday night and will leave Friday evening. When I asked her what she wanted to do while in New York or if there were any restaurants or cafes she wanted to check out, she simply responded that she wanted to go restaurants or spots that she couldn’t do with young children or babies… so in other words, speakeasy-type venues, cramped and small restaurants you couldn’t easily roll a stroller into, or places where you’d never even think of asking the server for a high chair at.

It was kind of funny when she responded this way because I could completely relate. I have a growing list (as always) of places I’d like to eat at in New York, but given the weekends are with Pookster, a large percentage of those places are just a no-go with a young child. It’s not to blame your child, but more recognizing that some venues just are not suitable for families or young children. And that’s okay. So we’re planning to do a tiny izakaya meal and have afternoon tea during her time here. Even though we’re both mothers now, we still enjoy and crave adult time and time to catch up one on one… without the constant injections of screaming and toddler questions that would happen if our kids were around and we tried to converse.

Giving away breast pumps and supplies – the end of a (motherhood) era

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This week, I took a look at my closets and decided that now was the time to finally give away my two breast pumps, their associated supplies, and my maternity clothes that don’t fit right now that I’m no longer pregnant. It was a weird feeling. At first, it felt uncomfortable, but when I packed them up and brought them downstairs to our security desk to facilitate pickup from eager members of our local Buy-Nothing group, I got over it. I always hoped to have another child, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that Chris won’t budge on his ridiculous “one-child policy,” and that unless I divorce him and miraculously meet someone else suitable ASAP, I’m probably not having another kid. So there’s no reason to keep extra stuff in our space for something that is a highly unlikely future.

It’s like a semi-official closed door to that stage of my life: recovering from child birth, breast feeding and pumping, and all the anger, frustration, tears, and hope that came with it. It’s a little funny to think about exactly how much time and energy I devoted to breastfeeding: the 1,430 hours over 14 months that I recorded having my nipples connected to a breast pump doesn’t even capture all the time that I spent researching, reading, testing, discussing, measuring, storing, and cleaning all my supplies. And THAT does not even include all the head space time I spent actually thinking and obsessing over it all. While there was a lot of pain and frustration during this phase, I also had a lot of highs and times when I’d stare into the fridge and be amazed at all the full breast milk bottles lined up. I remember the nanny phrasing my milk production and all the effort obsessively extended into feeding my baby. And for a few moments, I’d just look at all the bottles and smile, proud that my body was finally capable of producing so much milk… more milk than I thought I’d produce when that idiot lactation consultant at the pediatrician’s office insisted (with no evidence) that I had low milk supply. I’d daydream about potentially freezing the milk and using it for things like diaper rash or even in Kaia’s solid foods, like oatmeal or smoothies. It seems very far away now even though it was just over a year and a half ago when I weaned. That’s what motherhood is, though: lots of highs and lows that are quickly forgotten once you move into the next stage of your child’s development.

It’s okay, though. Although I do miss a lot of those moments in Kaia’s development and my own motherhood journey, I love her stage right now. I love that we can communicate in two languages, that she can surprise me with new things she can do and say every single day. I love how affectionate she is. I hope she is always this affectionate. I hope she always knows how much I love her.

After bedtime stories each night, I always say the exact same lines to her: “You are the best thing that has ever happened to… mummy. Mama loves Kaia more than… anything. Mama is grateful for Kaia… every day.” I also tell her in Chinese that I will always love her, no matter what. In the last two weeks, when I have said this to her before bed, she finishes my sentences with the last word. And it warms my heart. The very first time this happened, I teared up and just squeezed her and laughed, which elicited big smiles and giggles from her. I always said it her entire life, but I wasn’t sure if it was registering with her or if she understood me. But this just made my day the first time she did it. I just love my baby so much and am so grateful I have her.

Summer for the City Festival Orchestra at the Lincoln Center

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One of the greatest things about living in New York City is the ease of access to the arts and live performances and theater. We have historic venues and theaters to go with some of the most up-and-coming performers, some of the most talented artists in the world. It would be unheard of to be a singer/major music group, do a tour in the U.S., and NOT stop in New York City; some artists even have multiple dates just in New York City. We’re even luckier on average because we live just a few blocks from Lincoln Center and minutes away from the theater district, Carnegie Hall, and other major performance venues. So when I started subscribing to Lincoln Center’s email newsletter last year to keep an eye out for low/no-cost performances for littles, I also got email notifications regarding Lincoln Center’s annual Summer for the City series. The series consists of lots of different free or pay-what-you-wish performances and events. There’s a huge summer stage that has been built in Lincoln Center Plaza for things like swing nights. It’s definitely been popping. And it’s even more inclusive because the events are low or no cost.

I got pay-what-you-wish tickets for two orchestral events. The first one was tonight at David Geffen Hall for Huang Ruo’s North American premiere of City of Floating Sounds, followed by Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6 (“Pastoral”). A friend drove in from New Jersey to have dinner and see the show with me. Act I was the modern “City of Floating Sounds” piece, while Act II was Beethoven’s Symphony No. 6. I’ll be honest and say that City of Floating sounds… was a bit too modern for me. For the first ten minutes of the piece, I genuinely thought they were all tuning their instruments. But as the music heightened and became more intense, it became more enjoyable towards the end. The real highlight, as un-modern as this may sound, was Beethoven’s “Pastoral.” It was familiar and soothing, and I loved the way the sound of the violins and cellos grew more and more intense. The flutes were also a highlight of the performance.

Lots of theater and arts experiences are expensive in New York City, but we’re very lucky in that many more are also low-cost or free thanks to generous donors. The last few times I’ve seen live orchestral performances was during free NYC events: one was a jazz event at one of the open public spaces owned by Lincoln Center, another was at Damrosch Park (two blocks from us, and just steps away from Lincoln Center Plaza), where Yo-Yo Ma was the star performer, and the other was to see New York Philharmonic perform in the summer “concerts in the parks” series at the Great Lawn Central Park. The one paid instrumental performance I saw was Lang Lang and friends at Carnegie Hall. Before that while in college, I’d seen the Boston Philharmonic perform once. And before that… I honestly can’t remember. I remember seeing the symphony regularly while in elementary school, as these were field trips that were covered by school. In the last year, I’ve thought about things that I enjoy, and live orchestra music is definitely one of them and something I’ve kind of forgotten about over the years, regretfully.

While working during the day, while I do play Spotify occasionally, I realize that my focus is not great if I listen to music with words. So instead, I’ve switched to classical music and sometimes even sound scapes. I find it very soothing. I added the Chinese song “Butterfly Lovers” to a separate “Chinese instrumentals” playlist. It reminds me of my time in Shanghai in the summer of 2006, when I learned about the Chinese legend, the tragic love story of Liang ShanBo and Zhu YingTai as butterfly lovers… and their untimely demise.

First Saturday back from South America means… spicy food!

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For the last two weeks, while we’ve enjoyed the food in South America, one thing that was blatantly missing in every single meal was… spice. There wasn’t much spice in almost anything we ate. Sure, there might have been cinnamon in some of the desserts we ate. But there wasn’t anything even remotely hot spicy. There were times we thought we might get it, like when we had a ceviche in Santiago or even ordered a lamb curry at a tapas restaurant in Montevideo, but there was literally no heat in any food we ate whatsoever. Towards the second half of our trip, Chris started making comments about this.

“This could be spicy… but it isn’t,” he’d comment. “If this just had a little heat, this dish would be even better!”

There were a few times I thought something would be spicy, and it wasn’t even a smidgen. The two times we had chimichurri sauce (a delicious oil based sauce made with blended parsley, coriander, and garlic, oftentimes served with steak) in Argentina, the chimichurri was not green as I anticipated, but red. I later read that these were red because the restaurants added smoked paprika and likely some red bell pepper. Unfortunately, neither of those ingredients are spicy-hot. They are tasty… just not spicy. Oh well.

Chris loves the food almost anywhere and everywhere we have visited in the world. But he definitely likes his spice. And he is generally a bit disappointed when he doesn’t get it for too long. So when we got back, I knew he’d be craving spicy food. And I had a big, big hunch that he’d choose a Thai spot for our Saturday afternoon outing. And if it wasn’t Thai, it would be Indian, but I was doubting that. I was almost certain it would be Thai.

And Thai it was. We went to Bushwick and ended up at Chiangmai Diner and Bar. It was a beautiful corner restaurant, with lots of beautiful green tiling, fun decor, glowing lanterns in the back of the restaurant with full floor to ceiling murals. Even the bathroom matched the restaurant’s chic decor and smelled heavenly (I even noted the candle that was fragrantly lit in the bathroom for futur reference). We had spicy papaya salad with a fermented fish sauce that we’d never had before, which made the salad far more pungent than usual; a fried fish fritter appetizer known to be popular street food in Bangkok, sai oua spaghetti, and boat noodles. Everything was delicious with lots of complex flavors dancing in your mouth all at once, and other than the fish fritters, everything was spicy. Chris’s favorite thing (and Pookster’s) was the sai oua spaghetti, which had a really addictive umami spiciness along with nice al dente noodles for a fun fusion Thai dish; the sai oua was most definitely house made with fresh galangal and makrut lime leaf, with a nice soft texture. But for me, it was a pretty close tie between the boat noodles and the sai oua sausage noodles. I’ve been listening to Hot Thai Kitchen’s Sabai podcast on Thai food and culture, and in one of her episodes, Pailin says that if she could have just one noodle soup for the rest of her entire life, boat noodles would be it. But when she said it, I doubted I’d ever had a really good or authentic bowl of boat noodles (no, I definitely have not. And I knew I hadn’t as soon as she said that authentic boat noodles are enriched with pig’s blood, which makes for a more intense and rich soup). But this boat noodle soup… I could definitely have this again and again.

So yes, this is one of many signs that I absolutely know my husband. He always loves to say that he knows me better than anyone else… At the same time, I would also like to say that I know him better than anyone else… regardless of whether he wants to admit that or not (out loud).

Summer fruit excitement: longans, lychees, and rambutans

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From March to July each year here in New York, we get excited for our ataulfo mangoes, all yellow, plentiful, and sweet coming from Mexico. If you come to our apartment during this time, you can expect to see at least 5-10 of them, all lined up by our living room/kitchen windows, socially distanced comfortably to prevent over ripening too quickly and all at the same time. But once July hits, the supply of mangoes starts to dwindle. There are less sales for the ataulfos. And then eventually, we have to bid farewell to yellow mangoes for the summer. If we get lucky and see some nice green/red or Kent mangoes at an Asian or Indian grocery store, we may pick them up, but usually July is the last time we will have mangoes in the Northern Hemisphere for the year.

When we returned from South America, I was sad to see that the mangoes were no longer on sale at Whole Foods and regular priced. So this was an indicator to me that we would no longer have them regularly this summer. Then, my focus switched to summer exotic fruits we can get in Chinatown, like longans (my fave!), lychees, and rambutans. I went down to my favorite street vendors at Mulberry and Canal yesterday, and it was like a galore of all my favorite Asian fruit all lined up. I got three pounds of lychees (3 lb for $10!), one pound of rambutans ($4/lb), one pound of longans ($5/lb), and two pounds of very sweet red cherries (two pounds for $5). I had just bought seven pounds of fruit for $24. The fruit vendor at that stand was likely very, very happy. My shoulders were heavy carrying all that fruit, plus all the other goodies and groceries I picked up yesterday. But I know my stomach (and Pookster’s and Chris’s) will be full from all these seasonal exotic fruit delights!

New Golden Fung Wong Bakery is closing in Manhattan Chinatown

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While in South America, I was saddened to learn that one of the oldest and long-standing bakeries in Manhattan Chinatown is closing at the end of July. Once upon a time in the early 1960s, New Golden Fung Wong Bakery opened on Mott Street. Manhattan Chinatown was predominantly Toisanese and Cantonese due to restrictive immigration law and early immigration patterns. They became known among those who know (this is another case of #iykyk) for their moon cakes, winter melon cakes (lao po bing), and hopia, various flaky snack cakes filled with black bean or scallions with pork fat. I am embarrassed to say that while they had been on my radar for a while, because I always had so many places I wanted to try (and repeat places to return to) every time I went down to Chinatown, I did not actually step foot into this shop until the pandemic period, so 12 years after I first moved here. I loved their non conventional mooncake filled with black sesame ($7.50 is a steep price to pay for a moon cake, but given I knew it was all black sesame, I was happy to pay it and its rising price). And their lao po bing, aka old wife cake, aka winter melon cakes, were probably the best ones I’ve had outside of the ones my dad used to buy me at a specific bakery along Stockton Street in San Francisco Chinatown. Most places use a lot of cheap filler for their lao po bing; New Golden Fung Wong puts all the good stuff in to make this cake extra special for those who appreciate it.

I went into their shop today and after ordering my black sesame moon cake and lao po bing (fresh out of the oven, still on the baking tray!), I told the worker that I heard they were closing at the end of the month, and I asked why. She sighed and responded that the owners were retiring and had no family members or kids who wanted to continue the business, so they had no choice but to fully close down. It was really sad to hear this news in person, as well as to see the signs written in Chinese on the front that July 31 would be its last day in business.

New Golden Fung Wong is a no-frills bakery. They don’t sell anything trendy or any new bao that’s being developed by up and coming pastry chefs in Hong Kong. But it’s the type of bakery my grandma would have loved and frequented, and also the kind of place my parents would appreciate and want to give business to. Times are changing, and tastes are evolving. But it makes me sad that this institutional bakery is closing because it could mean that for the next generation, like Kaia’s, they may never even know what these classic, nostalgic Cantonese treats were and how delicious they are. I’m seriously tempted to go back to the shop one last time to get my fill of black sesame moon cake and lao po bing before July 31 to not only support the owners in their journey to retirement, but also to quell my own sadness that I won’t ever be able to enjoy New Golden Fung Wong treats ever again after July has ended.

Eating and cooking after a meat and carb intensive trip

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There’s no way to sugar coat this: we didn’t have very many vegetables during this trip. Overall, we probably had more while we were in Chile, but in Uruguay and Argentina, we had very little other than the vegetables we proactively ate during breakfast at our hotel. Kaia was also seemingly on a vegetable strike: she didn’t eat almost any vegetable offered to her nearly the entire trip, and especially in Argentina. She ate lots of pasta… perhaps too much pasta, and a good amount of meat, but no greens were in sight almost at all. So I wanted to make sure we took care of that when we got back.

Today, I spent most of the day defrosting food and cooking vegetables. It was clear right away that even Kaia missed her vegetables: she ate multiple servings of each type almost right away, and she seemed to reject something she usually loves: sticky rice (Chinese and Vietnamese). Who knows — maybe her body was telling her to reject the sticky rice because she had already had her carb fill in South America. Either way, I was quite satisfied not only to be eating and cooking vegetables again, but also to see that my toddler wanted them, as well.

I’ve also been preparing my defrosted white beans to make white bean pesto soup, and some dal, which is always a comforting, healthy, and nutritious meal after a heavy eating trip. We’re definitely going to get in our legumes and veggies this week!