Category Archives: Contemplations on New York Life

Vir Das in “Hey Stranger” at the Claire Tow Theater, Lincoln Center

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Oftentimes, when people think of the Lincoln Center, they think of huge theaters like David Geffen Hall or David Koch Theater. But there are smaller theaters within Lincoln Center that perhaps have less name recognition that are fun, classy, and intimate, with a seating layout that ensures you are pretty close to the performers and would have zero reason to squint to see them. Vir Das, one of our favorite comedians from Mumbai, is here doing his “Hey Stranger” show at the Claire Tow Theater at the Lincoln Center. He’s the first Indian performer to star in a show at Lincoln Center, so this was a pretty big deal. We went with my friend and her husband to see his show last night, and it was ninety minutes of near-crying laughing, but also with lots of serious moments spread throughout.

One personal thing he revealed during the show was that given the topics he covers in his comedy, he’s more and more not welcome home in India by the government, so he feels like he has no choice but to leave. And the U.S. has offered him a green card. Many people would see this as incredible, but for him, he’s quite torn. Moving to and living in America would mean… he’d ultimately become a different person. His comedy would not be the same. His identity would change. And he wasn’t sure he would like it that much. And we all know he’d end up being grouped with other brown comedians like Hasan Minhaj or Russell Peters, who are definitely talented in their own right, but their comedy is not the same as his. His jokes are what they are because he’s not in America living an American life. He can be critical about America from an outsider’s lens. And his comedy is all that much smarter for it because he has a bird’s eye view of how crazy and insane this place really is. Where you call “home” really defines us in ways we may not fully be aware, but he’s thinking about it long and hard now.

I honestly don’t want him to move here because I love what he says and produces just as he is, where is is from. He provides an intelligent, authentic voice that would not be the same if he lived here. But hey, what does my opinion matter? I’m just another fan of his living life in the U.S. He has his livelihood to consider, and he also has to pay bills and try his best to stay out of jail just for simply having opinions and speaking. Being a comic is hard, and he’s showing exactly how hard it is to do that job while living in India and having Indian citizenship.

Another year, another sickness

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The most amazing things about years 2020 and 2021 are that I never got sick, even a single time. In 2020, I was isolated from pretty much the entire world, so who was going to get me sick? In 2021, we were technically still in COVID times, but I was still fairly isolated. Then I got pregnant and had Kaia. And I was still in the clear. Then 2022 came and the world was open and free again. Chris went to Chicago for a big work conference, came back and gave baby Kaia and me COVID. My milk supply (temporarily, thank God) plummeted for those days, and I still remember every pumping session was painful and so sweaty that I had to change my top and air out my pumping bras each time. After he got back, he learned that over a dozen of his colleagues went home with COVID. He never tested positive, so he annoyingly claims, to this day, that since he never tested himself, he never had it.

In early 2023, Kaia caught Hand Food Mouth from a friend in the play room, and then gave ME my first case of HFM. I had it worse than she did. In the spring of that year, she got sick, and I got really sick, too, AGAIN: I was sick on and off for at least a month. I was so miserable, with my violent coughing fits. I went to see a primary care physician, a respiratory specialist, and even a gastroenterologist just in case. I took lung capacity tests and even a scan of my lungs for anything potentially more serious (all came back negative for problems). No one could give me any answers for why I was having these coughing fits. I still don’t know why I get them now.

Then memorably in November 2024, so about a year ago, I got a peritonsillar abscess as a result of getting hit by two rare strains of first the flu, and THEN strep throat. Because both hit me at the same time, an abscess developed on my left tonsil about three times the size of a quarter. Ever since that happened, I told myself I seriously needed to isolate myself and stay the hell away from anyone remotely sick. Although I am not sick anywhere as often as my colleagues who have young children, when I do get sick, I get REALLY sick, and I hate being nonfunctional. Inefficiency is one of the things that pisses me off the most.

About two weeks ago, I could feel a sore throat coming on. I did all the things I was recommended: daily salt gargle, daily evening nasal saline rinse, all the ginger-lemon tea. I even added a few TCM teas into the mix, like apple-fig-apricot kernel and ginger-aged tangerine peel-honey. While I clearly had a cold because I had some congestion and a cough, I was fully functional for the last week and a half. I did everything I’d originally planned to do and worked every day. I just skipped a few mornings at the gym. It felt like a standard, mild cold. I could deal with that. Then, we had two friends over for lunch on Sunday. I thought I’d wake up Monday morning being 100 percent. No, I did not: I woke up with a scratchier throat, a sharper cough, and more phlegm than I’d had the previous week. I had no idea what was going on. Today, I basically moved any meeting where I had to speak a lot, or joined meetings camera-off when I could, because my cough and phlegm were so bad. Chris got me some soup, and I increased my hot liquid intake and took a long, steamy shower.

I keep maniacally checking my uvula to ensure it hasn’t deviated. It has not, fingers crossed. I also keep checking to see if I have any weird spots in my throat. I just want to be a regular person who gets a minor cold and then it goes away. Why is that so much to ask? In my twenties, I almost never took real “sick leave” because my colds were so minor that I’d just sleep them off. Now into my late thirties, it’s as though my body says, nah, you can’t have it easy anymore! Now, you have to suffer because you’re getting older and you have a child, muah hahaha!

Kaia tried to wake me up earlier than I wanted this morning, and I told her to be nice to mama because she’s not feeling well. She pat me on the head and said, “Mama, why are you sick?”

“That’s a good question, Pookie,” I said back to her. “Why am I sick? Is it because of you?!”

First dermatologist visit and full body skin cancer screening

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After almost forty years of existence, I finally decided to schedule a dermatology appointment for a full body skin cancer screening. For many years, I wrongly assumed that you needed a specialist referral from a primary care provider for a “skin problem” to see a dermatologist. Then about two years ago, my doctor told me that I should actually see a dermatologist every year for skin cancer screening, and that it’s covered by pretty much every insurance — no referral needed. After trying and failing to make appointments at several derm offices that were in very high demand, I decided to go the ZocDoc route and find someone who got decent reviews and was semi close by. And so the appointment happened today.

It was pretty straightforward. I came in, confirmed the reason for my appointment, and then an assistant noted anything of concern or any spots you may want to have extra special attention looked at. Then, I undressed completely except for my underwear and put a fun gown on. The doctor came in and greeted me, asked me a few questions, and then proceeded to go section by section of my body, looking for any potential scary spots. The good news is that she said my skin looked great — I didn’t have any spots of concern. She was pleased to hear that I wore a hat and wore sunscreen every day (even inside, really). She did note a few freckles and sun spots I developed, especially the ones I pointed out to her on my face. We talked about potentially using a prescription grade 20% azelaic acid cream to lighten them. She emphasized sunblock and reapplication, plus covering up/wearing hats when outside. And given I knew it could be possible that insurance would cover a prescription grade retinol (and I am almost 40!), I decided it wouldn’t hurt to ask and spin it as, “Can retinol help with fading sun spots?” She said that it would help pretty dramatically and asked if I’d be interested in Tretinoin, the prescription retinol. She divulged that it is typically covered by insurance if you state it’s for the treatment of acne. “You do get the occasional pimple, right?” she winked at me. “Everyone does!” And then she quickly wrote me prescriptions for both the Tretinoin and the azelaic acid cream. She also told me that I had to be patient and consistent; I’d likely see changes over the course of three to four months. I could do that.

Within the hour, I got a text notification that my health insurance approved the Tretinoin, no problem. The azelaic acid cream was denied, though. Wahhh. So I will see how much it costs out of pocket vs. other methods and go from there. This is pretty exciting, though, to get a heavily subsidized prescription grade retinol for the first time. I am wondering if it will live up to the hype I read about in mom groups that it “changes your life” and skin completely!

“Couples” date in Elmhurst today

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Today, the three of us met up with my friend and her husband for lunch at an Indonesian restaurant we like in Elmhurst, Queens. The funny thing is we originally met them at a food event in a Brooklyn backyard just over a year ago, so this wasn’t actually our first time meeting her husband. I’ve met up with this friend over the course of the last year one on one, but we’d never arranged for the guys to come until this time. Kaia was intrigued by the “new friends” at the table. My friend’s husband knew way more about Bluey and Peppa Pig’s family than we would have ever guessed. And we talked a lot about family and cultural dynamics, travel, and college experiences.

The “couples mingling” thing is always funny because two friends can get along amazingly well when it’s just the two of them, but their spouses may not get along when in that group setting. Or, one of the friends may detest the other friend’s spouse, or whatever other combination you can think of. Given this was the first time we were all hanging out together, the conversation was fairly neutral and tempered, and nothing really edgy came up. But I was thinking about “couples friends” and how hard, in reality, they are to make, given the above potential situations. In most of my friendships, I far prefer just hanging out with my friends vs. hanging out with them and their spouses. I like being with them all occasionally, and I do enjoy seeing potential group dynamics and how they can unfold. But I almost always would prefer their spouse not be there. There are very few people I can name where I can say I equally enjoy time altogether as much as time spent with just my friend.

So, we’ll see if we all hang out again. I hope we do, but if it doesn’t happen that often or again, it won’t necessarily be the end of the world. The good news, though, is that both like kids, and they definitely enjoyed spending time with Kaia Pookie. I could tell Kaia was warming up to them, too. When we took a bathroom break, as we washed our hands, she asked me if my friend would still be at the table when we came back. When she asks questions about my friends, this is how I know she likes them.

Halloween with a sweet little ice cream vendor, and Kaia’s first real packaged Halloween candy

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This year, we dressed Kaia up as an ice cream vendor for Halloween. It was Chris’s idea, and Kaia was obsessed with it. The costume came with a hat, shirt with a big red bow, and white pants, but the part that really reveals her costume is a large white cloth tray that houses six detachable ice cream cones in six different colors. It has straps that you velcro onto your child. So it’s a bit bulky and annoying to carry around. Kaia did embrace carrying it around in the beginning, smiling and giggling endlessly while saying “Who wants ice cream?” and then naming her (constantly changing) flavors by color.

This year’s Halloween was quite cool and windy, so she had to wear a jacket over her costume to keep warm, as did all her classmates during their annual Halloween parade that the parents come for. Once we got to the playground and took group photos, she immediately wanted to rip off her ice cream tray and ice creams and run around freely. So of course, she handed all that over to me (which her teacher eventually took).

In the evening while Chris passed out candy to our building trick-or-treaters, I took Kaia trick-or-treating in our building for the second time ever. Last year when it was her first time, she did not completely get what was going on, but went with it. This year, she understands that when she rings doorbells and the doors are opened, if she says “trick or treat!”, then she gets candy! She got really sad, though, when some participating neighbors didn’t want us to ring their bell and instead set up “self serve” candy stations, either with large bowls, buckets, or bags full of treats. I’m still very impressed by some neighbors’ selections of treats they are dishing out, some of which I can remember from last year. This year’s treats handed out ranged from authentic packaged stroopwafels, Walker’s shortbread, granola bites, to “healthy” lower sugar options. When we went to all the units to trick or treat, we relented and finally let Kaia eat some of her Halloween candy (last year, we confiscated all of it). Chris let her choose two, and she settled on one tiny box of Nerds, and one Twix (mama’s favorite Halloween candy from childhood!). She savored both of them and ate them slowly. In the end, she declared she liked the Nerds more.

People ask us if we let Kaia “indulge” on Halloween. Well, that’s as far as “indulgence” is going to go for our almost-four-year-old! And she seemed quite happy with her overall Halloween experience and her candy eating allowance today!

Elementary school applications, tiger parenting, and the desire to “have a happy child”

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Years ago, when the “tiger mom” book was making lots of media headlines, I thought that I might be a Tiger Mom Lite. I’d push my child to be the best that they could be within the bounds of what they actually enjoyed. I’d demand obedience (to a limit) and self-discipline. I’d expect them to do house chores, homework, and extracurriculars. And hopefully all that would culminate in their developing into a good citizen of society and the world — growing into an adult who would be intelligent, curious, empathetic, disciplined, globally minded, and passionate.

Fast forward years later, after a year of futilely trying to conceive, IUI, IVF, and finally the birth of Kaia Pookie, and I think I’ve softened quite a bit. I’m no where as strict as I thought I would be as a parent. I’m a lot more gentle than I ever imagined. And all I can think about is how not to continue intergenerational, “inherited” trauma in her. In my mind, I just want her to be safe, healthy, and happy.

I think about this during the recent weeks’ worth of elementary school tours, open houses, and parent outreaches and conversations. And all these parents seem to say the same thing: we want our kids to be happy and thrive in their environments. But then the big question when choosing a school is: which environment is best for my child to optimize their happiness and learning?

I recently finished reading this culinary memoir called How to Share an Egg: A True Story of Hunger, Love, and Plenty by Bonny Reichert. Bonny’s father survived near-starvation during the Holocaust in Auschwitz-Birkenau, and this legacy of hunger impacts the family’s relationship to food. The book, though repetitive and slightly irrelevant tangents at times, shows how trauma can continue across generations even when the older generations who directly experienced trauma try so hard to shield it from their offspring. In Bonny’s case, her father steered as clear as possible from sharing vivid details of his struggle and survival during the Holocaust, insisting that she and her sisters not worry or think about it. He constantly says over and over to the girls that there’s no need to know about all that in the past. “Just be happy. I want you to be happy.” But the anxiety from not knowing the details but being aware of their father’s Holocaust experience constantly echoes in their lives and causes Bonny an internal instability that she cannot shake. We spend most of the book navigating this journey, which leads her… right back to Poland.

I suppose the reason I thought about this book during this elementary school application process is that it’s not really enough, at the end of the day, to focus on our child’s happiness, as made evident in Bonny’s case with her dad. What does “happiness” mean to kids at each stage of development, anyway? At times, it can seem like an empty, meaningless word. Something actually needs to drive them internally for them to move forward. And all we can do, as their parents, is to be the one to help them navigate through all their options and choose what we think is best for them as individuals.

That feels very difficult (and vexing) right now.

Cooking with chanterelles – an autumn luxury and privilege

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I love mushrooms. They are one of my favorite foods on earth. The more irregular and funny looking they are, the more likely I am enamored by them and just want to find ways to cook with them and get them in my belly. Over the years, I’ve had so many delicious varieties of mushrooms. In Asian cooking, shiitake and enoki mushrooms are extremely common. Since graduating from college, I’ve been buying king oyster and trumpet mushrooms more regularly. And while I am obsessed with morel mushrooms, they are almost impossible to find…and when you do, quite cost prohibitive.

One mushroom that had remained on the “out of reach” list for ages were chanterelles, a rare, delicate, and difficult to cultivate mushroom. They cannot be commercially cultivated and can only be grown wild, thriving on tree roots. Chanterelle mushrooms form symbiotic, mycorrhizal relationships with tree roots in a way that is so complex that humans still have not figured out how to reproduce this in a controlled farm environment. And thus, every chanterelle mushroom anyone buys has been foraged by hand in the wild and not farmed. They also have a very short season that is usually late summer to fall, and their yield heavily depends on rainfall, temperature, and soil quality being at optimal levels.

Given this, it’s been pretty usual that if I go to Whole Foods or a fancier grocery store (regular grocery stores will rarely have chanterelles!) around September to October each year that I will see chanterelles being sold for anywhere from $28-50 per pound. While I have loved them and have enjoyed them in a couple tasting menus we’d indulged in, I never had the pleasure of cooking with them myself until during the pandemic. In 2020, we spotted them at a Costco for about $12-13/pound, and I obviously pounced on it. And then once again during our Costco trip this past Sunday, I got two pounds of them for the same cost. Sure, they’re expensive and are priced like fancy meat even at this far-cheaper price, but to me, chanterelles are worth it as a rare autumn treat.

Today, I made my chanterelles two ways: I seared and tossed them into a cashew-cream based sauce with short pasta, along with cannellini beans and baby bella mushrooms for extra protein and mushroominess; and for something I hadn’t previously done but wanted to do, I seared them and tossed fresh green herbs into them, adding them atop crusty Breadivore bordelaise sourdough and a generous pat of salted French butter. It was simple, delicious goodness. But once I finished cooking my two pounds of chanterelles down and looked at my final dishes, I looked down and sadly noted how much they shrank down in volume, just like all my greens, into just a teeny tiny fraction of what I originally started with. This is often why when people ask me how I can possibly eat all of <name whatever squash, vegetable, bag of greens at Costco>, I tell them that it always cooks down to far, far less than what you’d think. So while it looks like we bought a lot, we”ll likely get through it in just two meals each!

Third time to Staten Island this year

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I shifted a bunch of meetings today so that I could go to my friend’s place in Staten Island and work remotely while also cooking for her. She’s now 2.5 months postpartum; it’s crazy how the time flies. Her baby has increased his weight by almost 50 percent and is very responsive now. My friend is pretty much healed from her birth and getting around a bit more. She’s now returned to cooking, something she enjoys, and is also proactively trying to get outside at least once a day for a walk and fresh air. It’s been good to see her healing and looking and sounding more like herself.

I will admit, though, that while I am happy to go all around New York City and explore different neighborhoods, it’s not necessarily the easiest or most convenient for me to get all the way out to her neighborhood in Staten Island. It is not subway accessible; I either need to take an express bus (which is an extra cost on top of an OMNY card) or the ferry; then, I need to either get picked up by her fiance or take an Uber/Lyft to and from her place. Staten Island is not public transportation friendly at all; it really requires you to own a car and drive everywhere, just like the suburbs. It is the least New York City-like of all five boroughs. While I enjoy the one-off rides on the ferry and seeing Manhattan drift away, plus views of the Statue of Liberty, I am not a fan of her being this far away and removed from everything she loves about New York. But I suck it up because it’s her choice to be there. This is my second time visiting her in Staten Island since she gave birth. I saw her once in the hospital after birth in Manhattan.

She was chatting with me about a bunch of her “good” or “close” friends while I was over today. Since she brought them up, I asked her if any of them (or any other friend, for that matter) had come to visit her since I was last over last month. The response was negative. I was her only friend who had come. The only other people who had been over were Joe’s family plus her own mom. I just found this really surprising. Usually, friends would love to come see their friend after giving birth and just to see the baby. I definitely don’t expect any of her friends to come cook and clean for her, but I’d at least think someone would have come to see her at least once. I am sure it has to do with distance given where she is located. People are lazy in general and don’t like to make huge efforts for others unless there is some incentive for them.

Though she has been my friend for almost thirty years, I don’t see her as just my friend; to me, she is my chosen family, my created and chosen “urban tribe” that I read about in my college sociology class. I treat her the way I would treat my own family members. And I know she sees me the same way. We are always bonded even without blood. And so I am happy to cook for her and stuff her face with browned butter pumpkin cookies and Chinese chicken wine soup. And unlike a lot of other friends I have, she is always, always outwardly and obviously grateful for even the littlest things I do for her. And that’s one of the many reasons I adore her.

Browned butter and cozy kitchen delights

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As I’ve gotten older, I can definitely feel my metabolism slowing down. I can’t eat as much food as I used to. I definitely cannot eat the same sweet things I once ate as a kid or even as a 20-something-year-old. Some sweets I choose to stay away from completely (hello, candy in general and sour belts, which I was obsessed with as a little kid), and other things I have in very small quantities. Once upon a time, I could probably just sit there and eat five medium sized freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in a single sitting. Now, I can eat… one. And then if I have made them myself, I need to really space them out. And as we all know, homemade desserts have a very short shelf life (no preservatives!), and they can get dry quickly given they are all natural. So, if you don’t finish them within a certain time, they are just nowhere as delicious and moist as day one or two. Given this, I bake desserts only when we have company or are bringing baked goods to someone else, with the exception of “healthy” baked treats for Kaia.

The problem with this is that baking is one of my biggest and first loves in life. I have so many fond, happy memories of baking in my aunt’s kitchen upstairs. Most of those bake sessions were from box mixes, but as a little kid, I didn’t understand, nor would I probably have cared. I was actually making something that my family and I could eat, and that seemed so special and amazing to me when I was four, five, and six years old. When you think about it, it’s still actually quite amazing: it’s amazing to be able to share food you have made with your own time, effort, and hands with the ones you love most. It’s special to nourish the ones who mean the most to you. Because what is more important than fueling our bodies with sustenance?

So last night, I browned butter for the first time in ages. In my early 20s, I used to do this a few times a year for special treats like browned butter chocolate chip cookies, financiers, among other rich delights. I browned an entire cup or 240 grams of butter, and the house smelled so sweet, caramelly, toasty, and utterly delightful. I used it for the browned butter pumpkin cookies I made my postpartum friend, which I will be bringing to her place tomorrow. She recently had a baby, and I wanted to bring her more food and cook for her. She texted me and said she was really enjoying the hawthorn tea blend I made for her, especially because it had cinnamon, and it felt very cozy for fall. So given this, I figured browned butter pumpkin cookies would go with her “autumn cozy” feelings.

I was packing up the cookies this evening and decided to try one fresh. And it was truly delicious: rich, pumpkin spicy flavor, with caramel notes from the browned butter. The sugar level was perfect and melded into the butter like a dream. It was soft and chewy, with this almost addictive texture that mirrors that of snickerdoodles. When I thought more about it, these really are the pumpkin and spice version of snickerdoodles! My snickerdoodle-obsessed friend would have loved these cookies. Chris even declared these cookies “Tim Tam level,” which coming from him is quite high praise. Scientifically Sweet recipes never fail to be a delicious success.

I drew the line at one cookie for today, though. Now that I am nearing 40, I think a lot more about how many sweets and rich foods I eat. That single cookie had about 11 grams of sugar. 😀 I loved it, but I do not need to eat too many of them in a single sitting.

Very “clean” baking mixes

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The neighbor I’ve been hanging out with while having play dates with our kids gave me a Simple Mills box mix for banana muffins or bread loaf. She said she has so many of this brand’s mixes that she’s gotten bored of the flavors, and she thought that maybe I could work my baking magic and jazz it up. The slogan is, “Only purposeful ingredients. Nothing artificial, ever.” The mix is gluten free and vegan (though it does call for three eggs and suggest using yogurt in place of water to increase moistness of the muffins). And when you look at the “simple ingredients” list, it just lists these: Almond Flour, Banana, Organic Coconut Sugar, Arrowroot, Organic Coconut Flour, Baking Soda, Organic Cinnamon, Sea Salt.

Based on the above ingredients list, there’s no weird artificial or “natural flavors.” No dyes or preservatives are listed. No weird names of things that the average person cannot pronounce are here. The average grocery store box mix has preservatives like propionate, potassium sorbate, sodium benzoate, and other emulsifiers. Simple Mills really is what it states: straightforward, simple ingredients. I wanted to believe this had to be good, so I decided to whip it out today and see how it was.

The instructions say to use three eggs, 1/2 cup water, and 1/3 cup oil. I used two eggs, replaced one egg with a “flax egg” (1 tablespoon ground flaxseed to 3 tablespoons water), replaced the water with yogurt as the suggestions stated to increase moistness, and used 1/3 cup coconut oil. The mixture seemed really thick, so I added some coconut and oat milk to thin it out a bit. I also wanted to add more spices because the only spice mentioned here was cinnamon, so I added some ground cardamom, ginger, allspice, nutmeg, and mace. I mixed it all up, added the batter into my mini muffin pan, and baked it. The bake time was also longer than I thought by about 50 percent, which was weird, but I’d rather have done muffins than liquidy ones.

Once the muffins were done and cooled, I tried one. It did not poof up the way wheat flour muffins do and was quite flat on top, but the flavor was pretty decent. The texture was soft and on pair with other almond-flour-based breads/muffins I’d had before. The spice flavor was very good. The one downside, though, was that there was absolutely zero taste of any banana. The spices, coconut milk, and oat milk had completely drowned out any banana fruit flavor.

I had one first and didn’t tell Chris what I thought. I did not want to influence what he tasted or thought. After he had one, he immediately said, “Not bad. Did you put something Indian in it?”