Category Archives: Contemplations on New York Life

Holiday purchase at Costco this season: Meyer’s Limited Edition Holiday Soap!

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On Sunday on our way back home from Albany, we stopped at Costco for our second time this year to stock up on household staples and produce. We picked up olive oil, avocado oil, a large jar of sun-dried tomatoes, toilet paper (of course), facial tissue, and a decent amount of fruit and vegetables. As for seasonal things we got, Chris got 1.5 pounds of peppermint bark, and I picked up… Meyer’s Limited Edition set of hand soaps, in four different holiday scents: pine, peppermint, snowdrop (who knows what this smells like, but I’ll take a chance on it!), and gingerbread.

I was telling my friend over dinner about this purchase. I said that this is how you know you’re really an adult and care about things that matter: you go to Costco and are inundated by all the holiday/Christmas seasonal items, from house decor to treats, and the one thing you “indulge” on is a bunch of holiday-scented liquid hand soap. Ten years ago, if someone gave me soap or toilet paper, I’d wonder what the hell kind of “gift” it was. Now, assuming it’s high quality, I’d think, ‘Wow, that’s so thoughtful (and practical) of you to think of getting that for me!’

So, here I am, admitting that what my mom says is true: with age comes wisdom, and wisdom says that Meyer’s holiday soap is a good and practical thing to buy at Costco as we approach the holidays.

Toddler moments: chasing after a squirrel

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On Friday when we arrived in Albany, in the late afternoon we went to the State Capitol area and let Kaia run around the buildings, green areas, and The Egg. It suddenly dawned on me while we were roaming around the area how rare it is that we just let her run free in any open area without being within arm’s reach of her. She reveled in it and soaked it all up, running and giggling with glee everywhere. She especially got excited every time she saw a squirrel, as she’d try to chase it until it ran up a tree. Then, she would whine and wave her arms up and down, yelling, “Why’d you go up the tree! Come back! Come back!” She’d feebly attempt to wrap her arms around the tree trunk in a weak attempt to hoist herself up the tree, then would immediately stop and just whine that the squirrel got away. I documented some of it via video and laughed each time. It was just too adorable to watch.

Her innocence in a photo is one thing, but video certainly takes capturing her moments to another level. It reminded me of when I listened to the YouTube star/food influencer Mark Wiens years ago, and he talked about how he originally documented all the food he ate on his travels via his blog. But after a little bit of time, he realized that while he enjoyed writing and and taking photos, it just wasn’t enough to capture the three-dimensional side of food, energy, and life. He needed to incorporate video to truly make his experiences come to life, and to allow his audience to experience what he was experiencing as though they were there.

I’m grateful to have easy access to technology to so easily document all my moments with her and her growth. That evening, I played the video of her yelling at the squirrel and commenting how she didn’t want it to get away over and over. This goes into my memory box of moments I never want to forget because of how innocent and truly adorable she is at this moment in time, at this age. Each day, Kaia is growing, getting bigger, smarter, and more mature. Each day, she changes. But I’ll always have these videos to go back to and watch and remember how amazing these times with her were at this point in time.

Indian Ladder Farm and Oysterfest 2024

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A short drive away from Albany is a cute farm in Altamont, NY, called Indian Ladder Farm, which offers lots of fresh produce grown on the land, as well as dairy products and meat from neighboring farms. They also make their own apple cider donuts, pies, pastries, and other desserts. The farm has a large pumpkin patch where you choose a pumpkin, as well as endless apple orchards where you can PYO (pick your own) apples and pay by the weight. In 2003, Indian Ladder Farm, named after the Indian Ladder Trail, a Mohawk trade route, became the first farm in Albany County to receive a state farmland protection grant to protect the land from development. The land has to remain available for agricultural development and can never be developed. The space is definitely well used and laid out, with a full fledged store full of local goods and produce, lots of outdoor space for kids and families to hang out and play, as well as areas for riding ponies, a large sandbox for littles to dig holes and build sand castles, and an entertainment area with a stage for live music, a pizza oven/outdoor restaurant setup, an alcoholic drinks area where you can purchase local beers and wines, and endless seating, both indoors and out. It was quick to see why families and friends who are local would be happy to spend a full day hanging out at a place like this.

We got lucky with our visit to Indian Ladder Farm, as the annual Oysterfest was happening this weekend. Blue Point oysters, which are grown on oyster farms in the Great South Bay in Long Island, are served right on the farm. So we got to indulge in a dozen local oysters while also enjoying a white clam pizza (one of my all-time faves) that came fresh out of the coal pizza oven. An interesting thing that we didn’t try that I saw was an oyster stout, which is a dark semi-sweet beer brewed with oyster shells. It’s supposed to give the beer a richer, more savory flavor with a hint of brininess. Who would have thought that was a way to reuse oyster shells?

The area Kaia loved the most was one of the simplest, which was the sandbox. She spent a good amount of time using the different bucket and shovels, digging holes, creating large sand piles, handing the buckets to me, and then repeating the process over and over again in different spots. She didn’t seem to tire of this no matter how much time passed. It was a reminder to me how simple her desires are and how it really doesn’t take much to entertain or amuse her for hours (potentially) on end. A sandbox seems so basic, but oddly enough, we don’t really have one near us in the parks and playgrounds on the Upper West Side that I’m aware of. So I’m happy she was able to indulge even if just for a bit.

Autumn in New York state is in full force now

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Growing up in California, I didn’t really know what autumn was. Fall was this nearly mythical, far-away concept that had no bearing on my life. While leaves did change color in San Francisco, it was usually from green into a sad beige or brown almost immediately. As a child, I was never exposed to the brilliant yellows, golds, bright, nearly fluorescent oranges, burgundy-reds, and even deep purples that you can see near in the Northeast of the U.S. Then, I went to Wellesley for college, in the heart of New England, and every fall once the new school year began, I was thrusted into all this endless and beautiful color. Although I am never that happy when the temperatures start cooling and the days get shorter, I always love the fall leaves and the changing colors right before my eyes every day.

Last year, we went to Springfield, Massachusetts, the first week of October in search of fall leaves, but alas, due to global warming, we came a bit too early. Everywhere we went, all we saw was green, and the locals told us that we’d be unlikely to see any autumn leaves until the end of the month. So, this year, Chris booked our fall long weekend trip for the last weekend of October, and this time, it’s in Albany, the state’s capital. And the timing was pretty spot on this year: all along the roads we drove on and everywhere we went, we saw the vibrant goldenrods, fiery burnt oranges, and deep crimsons that scream autumn.

On our way up to Albany, we stopped in the cute little town of Kingston at a well loved coffee/donut shop called Half Moon Rondout Cafe. They had a delicious variety of donuts, some of which are made to order. Here, we shared a pistachio honey latte, a pistachio bombolini (Italian style donut), a freshly churned out cinnamon sugar donut, and a slice of their signature and decadent chocolate babka. The latte had just enough pistachio flavor, the bombolini had a sweet nuttiness to it, and the fresh cinnamon sugar donut was deceptively light and airy while being not too sweet. The chocolate babka slice was clearly the star of the show, though, even with such delicious donuts. I couldn’t believe how much chocolate they had managed to pack into this slice, and all the layers of dough that just melded together and formed what is likely the richest babka we’ve ever enjoyed. I was tempted to get a whole babka loaf to bring home, but I decided that it would be a bit too gluttony of us given other delicious things we’d be eating on this trip. Every time we leave the city, I always marvel at the spacious cafes and the ample seating; not every cafe out there is packed to the brim with people on their laptops like in New York City.

We also visited the Emerson Kaleidoscope, which is supposed to be the world’s largest kaleidoscope. We did the kaleidoscope show, which lasted about ten minutes and required you to stand leaning on these back “rests.” You also have the option to lie or sit on the floor while looking up, which is what Kaia did. It doesn’t seem to matter whether you are 3 or 63, but if you like colors, kaleidoscopes would appeal to anyone at any age. Kaia seemed to enjoy it, as she didn’t fuss at all during the short show and was looking up the entire time.

Another highlight of today was visiting the Kleinke Dutch Farm, where Kaia got to see lots of farm animals (and even got bitten by a couple when she tried to fake-feed them…), touch lots of fresh pumpkins, and throw and kick in endless fallen leaves everywhere. While kicking and throwing leaves with her, I thought about how fun this was and how I wasn’t sure what I enjoyed more: seeing autumn colors and leaves, or hearing that lovely sound of them crunching under my feet. These are experiences I never got when I was little, but now, I get to be a kid again and enjoy all this with her together.

We had two notable meals today: a late lunch at the historic Olde English Pub, in a beautiful house that is one of the original buildings in Albany, constructed in 1736, previously called the Quackenbush House. There, we enjoyed maple roasted brussel sprouts, a buttery and belly-warming beef pot pie, and fish and chips; plus, dinner at Shwe Burmese Restaurant, where it felt like we were dining in someone’s house. The staff all seemed like family (and the kids even played with Kaia towards the end of the meal). We had Burmese tea (sweet, creamy, and strong, almost like Hong Kong style milk tea), tea leaf salad, a Burmese egg noodle salad (tasted like a savory-sweet mix of tamarind and sesame paste), and a Burmese fish curry. Our mains came with soup, salad, and an interesting shaved ice dessert that had grass jelly, raisins, peanuts, and a fruit syrup topping. I wasn’t expecting grass jelly, but I enjoyed this dessert!

Albany isn’t considered a “major” metro area, but it has quite a number of eclectic restaurants and cafes to keep you interested. The fall colors everywhere have been a gorgeous backdrop, so we really got lucky with our timing this year.

Trader Joe’s: limited time, ephemeral items

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Since I was young, I have always loved Trader Joe’s (let’s please put aside their shady practices with doing business with small business owners for a minute). Their products are generally cleaner and have fewer gross ingredients. The packaging is always fun. The prices are most definitely always low, relatively speaking. I still have fond memories from when I was in high school, and my dad found a delicious kiwi gooseberry jam from TJs. I was completely obsessed, and I was never a big jam person. It had this really great balance of light sweetness with tartness, and it tasted like real fruit, just mashed up. I also liked the occasional chunk of gooseberry I got in my mouth while eating it. I requested he get more of it each time he went to Trader Joe’s, which was maybe once every couple of months. One day, he returned from a Trader Joe’s trip and said that my beloved green-hued jam was no longer there, that they had discontinued it. I was completely crushed: WHY? I asked. It was so, so good. Who could have that unique, delicious jam and not be completely enamored with it?

Then in my college years, Trader Joe’s carried their own version of Nutella, but far higher quality: their hazelnut chocolate spread had 31 percent hazelnut, unlike Nutella, which only had about 10-11 percent hazelnut. Each weekend breakfast at Wellesley in the dining halls, I’d take it down with me and have it be my weekend indulgence. I’d spread it on a piece of whole wheat toast and savor the nutty chocolatey flavor. And then, of course, that item also got discontinued.

As of late, the item I’m sad about, but was warned about from the beginning, is the Trader Joe’s organic tart cherry fruit spread. The Fearless Flyer told me it was available in limited quantities, made with organic Turkish sour cherries. I love, love, love all things sour cherry related. So when I saw it on the jam shelf in the spring, I immediately got the 15 oz jar (for only $4.29 – what a steal!). I made the mistake of never opening it at the time to see how good it was. Chris just opened it this week (over 5 months after I originally got it… AHHHH), and we both agreed this jam was phenomenal. I immediately got sad, though. I knew it was a limited release, and I didn’t act on it. I could have been smart about it and opened it when I got it back in May, declared it delicious, then gone back to Trader Joe’s and gotten four more jars to stock up for the future. But… I didn’t.

I guess this is just another lesson to myself for the future with limited stock items at Trader Joe’s. And maybe, it’s also a lesson to just enjoy what I have now… before it’s all gone.

Mirna’s Pupuseria in Flatbush

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I am embarrassed to say that I did not know what pupusas were until I reached adulthood. It wasn’t until the early 2010s when I finally went to a Salvadoran restaurant in the Mission District of San Francisco when I finally ate one for the first time. And it was certainly a memorable, delicious experience. If you aren’t familiar, pupusas originate in El Salvador, and they are flat, fine-cornmeal based savory pancakes with different types of stuffing, ranging from chicharron (not the crispy pork skin, but rather shredded pork shoulder), a combination of 5-7 types of Salvadoran cheeses that are like a mix of queso fresco and mozzarella in flavor and texture, to refried beans or loroco, an edible Salvadoran flower. There are so many stuffings, and many can be combined, but what was delicious about all of them was how deeply savory they all were. They are, what Australians would call, “moreish:” once you have a bite, you are easily tempted to keep eating more! When cooked on a griddle, the best ones have this nice textural contrast of crispy edges and chewy middles. Pupusas are always served with a curtido, which is a sour slaw of cabbage and carrots, as well as some salsa roja (red tomato-based sauce) on the side.

Once, I tried making them with some fine cornmeal I had purchased, but the project went completely awry. I figured that I likely did not have the right grind for my cornmeal. I probably also over kneaded the dough. The result ended up being more like a flatter hockey puck, and the texture was not soft or dreamy, but dense and far too chewy. After that first failed attempt, I figured that I could just find a pupusa somewhere in Queens or uptown when I really wanted one. It would be better to support a small business who makes them expertly than spend too much of my own time toiling over how to make them.

Then, in 2022, Chris discovered Mirna’s Pupuseria in Flatbush, Brooklyn. Mirna’s is a small pupusa shop run by a husband and wife team. When Mirna first moved to New York from El Salvador, she used to make her visiting friend’s pupusas when they came over. So they joked and said when they came over, they were coming to eat at Mirna’s Pupuseria. And that’s how the name originated. The pupusas are just perfect here, even when they are reheated a day or two later. We love the refried bean and cheese ones, plus the chicharron and cheese pupusas. I am sure all of them are good, so it’s hard to go wrong with them! The Salvadoran style horchata is a nutty and sweet thirst quencher. Maybe at some point when we come back, I’ll order some Salvadoran style tamales, but the pupusas are just so good that it’s hard not to just want to order these here. The staff take their time with the pupusas, as all are made to order. As I always tell Pookster and get her to (begrudgingly) repeat after me: good food takes time. And they put so much love, care, and time into making these pupusas. Little food shops like Mirna’s is what makes New York City so special.

Rendang Hang with the Sambal Lady

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For our fourth year in a row, we went to the Sambal Lady’s house and backyard in Flatbush, Brooklyn, for her annual Malaysian feast. This year, she called it the “rendang hang,” after her famous beef rendang.

For the delicious meal, we had freshly fried shrimp chips as a snack, rojak buah salad, ghee rice, beef brisket rendang, a vegetable curry mix and ended with a gula melaka and coconut sticky rice. We also had an interesting selection of local craft beers, as well as unique samplings of other booze, such as a fun durian brandy.

Given there were 70+ people at the event, it was hard to chat too much with Sambal Lady. But when we did chat a bit, she told us that she would not have had this event unless I had messaged her a couple months ago asking about it. Then, I told Chris that I’d be making beef rendang using Auria’s spice blend, and he asked if she was having her annual feast again. I messaged her, asking if this would still be happening given that her event partner had moved to Ohio, and “Chris has a hankering for your rendang.” She responded and said they weren’t sure, but now she’d start talking to him. So they settled on 19 October and set the date! She said she wasn’t sure she wanted to host a big event given she had a rough trip to Malaysia in August for her mother’s 90th birthday, but after I messaged her, she got into the spirit and decided to just jump right in. We were lucky and got some good pictures of us together with Kaia (who even smiled!). When I first came to her house and met her in September 2021, I was pregnant with Pookster. And we’ve come every year since. So this is now our fourth year coming with Kaia in tow… just that in year 1, Pookster was still in the uterus! Kaia always gets a little shout out during Auria’s welcome speech since she was named after Auria’s pandan kaya jam. And so we have a lot of repeat guests who recognize us and say that we’re like distant family that they see once a year; one of them remarked to me, “You two are like mini celebrities! We know of you and know you!” a dinner attendee exclaimed to me.

We also had our couple friends that we met three years ago come to the event again tonight, so it was like our three-year anniversary of meeting — and at the same location! The older I get, the more I marvel at how quickly time flies. Three years ago really didn’t feel like that long ago, even though I was pregnant then, and Kaia is now almost 3!

Auria’s shindig always attracts lots of interesting people who not only love to eat and drink, but also love to cook (given her line up of spices and sauces) and by default, travel. So I had a lot of interesting conversation tonight, which has left my throat even more sore than it was when I woke up this morning. But it is all most definitely worth it!

Laundry stripping

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Well today, I can say that I honestly feel so productive and like a super adult. Or rather, I feel like a true domestic goddess, as Nigella Lawson once discussed. Why? You would ask. Well, it’s because today, I have finally tried out LAUNDRY STRIPPING.

I had no idea what this was until earlier this year, when I came across a mention of laundry stripping on Instagram. I’d read that TikTok had popularized the idea of laundry stripping, which is a term that is used for filling your bathtub up with really hot water, using a 1:1:2 part solution of borax, washing soda (NOT to be confused with baking soda! It’s more alkaline and far more powerful), and laundry detergent. You mix it all up until everything has dissolved, and then you place bulky items of a similar color, usually towels or bedding, into the water and swish them around about once an hour for about four hours, or until the water fully cools. You wring out all the items, throw them into your wash for a rinse and spin cycle, then dry as usual. The idea behind this is that in your washing machine, your washed items never fully get clean because of laundry buildup, grease/body oils/etc., so this method gives your bedding and towels a true “deep cleanse” and takes all the excess grime out that your machine wasn’t able to do.

So I gathered a large bunch of our white/off white/beige towels as my first attempt at laundry stripping. I made the solution, filled the tub, dumped all the towels in, then swished. I swished a total of five times, then did the whole method of wringing them out and adding them to the rinse/spin cycle. And WOW! Just after five minutes of sitting in the water, you could see how gross the water had become. It was already a deep, murky grey color. And that was just after five minutes! This is all the dirty and nastiness the washing machine couldn’t take out!

I’ll be honest: I did feel a happy sense of cleanliness and accomplishment after seeing this. I just hope that the towels actually look and feel a bit better after all this. See? You can never fully trust your washing machine to *really* get your stuff squeaky clean.

Response from the executive director of the Manhattan Chapter, AFSP

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Last week after I sent my email to the executive director of the Manhattan Chapter of AFSP, she responded. She was really kind and thoughtful in her response and said she appreciated my feedback and heard everything I said. She wanted to invite me to lunch in the next month so that we could get to know each other, and also to ask me to join the Manhattan Walk committee for next year.

I immediately said yes to lunch. I think it would be a good idea to sit down with her to see what her role is about, how she got into this since she’s new to the organization, and to see what the future of the AFSP Manhattan Chapter looks like. It would be a good learning opportunity for me. Plus, her work is paid work; she works for AFSP. I’d like to see her perspective on all this. Honestly, as terrible as it sounds, I do not speak much with people who work at not-for-profit organizations. I did tell her that while I was flattered to be asked to join the Walk committee, I was not 100 percent sure given the time commitment. The idea of dealing with politics and bureaucracy at a job I’d receive zero pay for does not necessary delight my senses.

It made me feel good to know that she cares and was quick to respond. This is supposed to be a community, after all, so I’m hopeful about the future for AFSP.

No Stupid Questions Podcast: When do you become an adult?

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In the last year or so, I’ve gotten into the No Stupid Questions podcast, which is a spinoff of the very popular Freakonomics books series. Research psychologist Angela Lee Duckworth and tech and sports executive Mike Maughan ask a lot of questions, some that can, at a glance, appear to be “stupid,” and so they ask each other these questions and delve into them. Many of the questions are suggested by their listeners.

The latest one I listened to that made me think was on “When do you become an adult?” and how it’s been fairly arbitrary that 18 has been the designated “adult” age. Why shouldn’t people ages 16 and above be able to vote? Why can you legally drive at age 16, vote at age 18, but then you cannot drink alcohol until age 21 in the U.S.? They go through all these questions and the historical reasons behind them in this episode.

One of the things that really made think was what Duckworth called the “life history theory,” which says that these things that you think are just fixed, or are on some cellular clock, they are actually profoundly influenced by experience. There’s an evolutionary reason behind it: if you sense that you are in some chaotic, uncertain, and/or dangerous environment, you had better get to adulthood fast. “Get to adulthood, reproduce, and get the hell out of there! You don’t have a lot of time!” Duckworth says. Life history theory says: what if you have the sense that you are in a stable, rich environment where you will live years and years? Then you have an incentive to forestall puberty and whatever line you want to give yourself for adult roles. This theory says you can procrastinate on adulthood if you live in a secure world because then, you have time to learn from your parents, get more educated from your peers and develop skills.

This made me think about two individuals I know. One is a former colleague from my last company who was essentially the biggest child I’d ever known who was my age. Let’s call this person Amber. Amber came from a wealthy, prominent Bay Area family with all the resources and support you could ever ask for. Yet somehow, when she started working at my last company, Amber came across as the most needy and insecure 30-something-year-old adult I’d ever met. She was constantly trying to make friends with everyone and get everyone to like her. It was really confusing to me, and I kept my distance from her. But eventually, I found out that she seemed jealous of the role I played in the office. I was effectively the culture queen in the office and organized happy hours and gatherings, and she did not like it since she wanted that role. She tried to get people to call her the “office mom,” as ridiculous as that sounds. Since Amber was the first and only recruiter in our office, she was the land line to HR in our San Francisco headquarters, and she kept tabs on and falsely reported goings-on and “moods” in the office. I will forever and always remember this stupid incident that happened: She had the balls to report me to HR for not wishing her a public happy birthday message on our team Slack channel. Amber knew I had an office birthday list, and when I happened to forget to ask her when her birthday was, she got upset and actually reported me! On top of that, because I had recently co-organized a happy hour event for a departing employee (who left on awkward terms), she also reported me for being “exclusive” and not inviting her (even though 1) another colleague was helping me organize, who she never reported, and 2) I purposely didn’t invite her because I knew she would be out of town for a work-related conference). Instead of HR looking at this as some senseless, childish, and elementary-school-like behavior and dismissing it, they actually took it seriously (since HR at my last company was full of toxic, drama-instigating individuals who substituted activity for achievement every day). Our “People Partner” (what a joke of a title, by the way, as she couldn’t have been less of a “partner” but an trouble maker who abused her “power”) asked my manager to have a chat with me about it. My manager, who was relatively new at the time, seemed a bit helpless when he confronted me about it. It was clear he thought it was dumb, but he shrugged and said he was simply delivering a message that HR had asked him to share with me. In general, people at the office despised Amber; endless people would say she was childish, bratty, and lacked self esteem (one former employee who was on her way out said to me in disgust, “She is a child! She tried to force me to hang out with her after I left!”), but they were generally afraid of Amber since she was like a pseudo HR-representative in our satellite office.

The second person I think about when I think of this life history theory is a friend of mine who is currently on her second divorce. We met in college and connected over our love of Chinese language and culture, food, and travel. Throughout college, I got to meet and hang out with her parents multiple times. They used to visit at least a couple times a year and were so generous to take me out to many delicious meals together. We talked about all sorts of topics that I’d never dream of discussing with my own parents. They treated me and my opinions with respect. I’d never felt so intellectually stimulated by another person’s parents in my life at that point. I always envied her relationship with her parents, and I had wished my parents could be more like hers. My friend married for the first time in 2011, then got divorced around 2015. The guy was literally a clown, as he was a professional clown artist and apparently a bit of an unstable fraud. She got married a second time in 2017 (to someone who, from any outsider’s view, was the total opposite of her, morally and politically), had a kid with this second guy in 2019, and then filed for divorce last year. Somehow, she has dug herself into a hole where she not only gave up her house that she is still paying bills and mortgage payments on, but she is also paying for a Christian private school that she didn’t want her child to go to. Because medical related decisions need both parents to sign off on them, he rejected my friend’s request to get their child therapy for how to handle the divorce. Their child is struggling and hating the separation, and she’s acting out because she doesn’t understand what is going on. Her ex-husband, who is unemployed, is making no attempt to work again given that he’s essentially living for free off my friend’s hard-earned money. She is so short of money now that her grandparents, who are well off, are paying for her rental payments for her apartment that she escaped to.

I wonder about the two of them, though. Is it possible that both of them were so loved, so supported, so coddled by their parents and grandparents and all the money and resources they had, that they are basically like living examples of people who never felt truly compelled to “grow up”? No one wants their children to feel unsupported or unloved, but according to life history theory, we may need to find ways to instill grit in our children so that they do not feel like they have all the time and endless resources in the world to “grow up” and be independent. No one will really respect you when you are in your mid-30s and crying to mommy when someone won’t wish you a happy birthday. Few people will respect you when your grandparents are paying your rent payments as a nearly 40-year-old.