I’m almost done reading Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s book Americanah, and I’m completely in love with her writing, her prose, and her insightful perspectives on race, color, and gender in today’s world. With many books, it takes at least the first 50-200 pages to really get interesting, especially with fiction, but with this book, I was taken immediately from the first page. I also watched both of her TED talks, The Danger of a Single Story, and We Should All Be Feminists. She is clearly a very talented story teller, as both are talks told with personal and heard/learned stories extremely seamlessly and thoughtfully. The Danger of a Single story had me tearing up throughout it. The idea behind it is that if we only ever hear one story of a person, place, or thing, that will fully shape our understanding of it, resulting in ignorance, lack of complete understanding and the full picture of that person/place/thing. The second talk around why we should all be feminists — it seems very straightforward, as “feminist” merely is a person who believes that women and men are equal. Unfortunately, we still live in a society today where people shy away from that label, and even worse, where people, consciously and subconsciously, do not genuinely believe in the equality of the sexes. But as she is a writer, she asks thought-provoking questions and adds different perspectives to really force us to think.

I started doing more research on Chimamanda and reading interviews that she’s given. I’m definitely a true fan girl of hers now. These are some of the things she’s said that I really love:

“I want to say what I think, and it’s lovely to be liked. And I like being liked, but I don’t need to be liked. I think that also sort of has been a thing for me where because of that, I say what I think, for good or bad.”

“The only reason you say that race was not an issue is because you wish it was not. We all wish it was not. But it’s a lie. I came from a country where race was not an issue; I did not think of myself as black, and I only became black when I came to America. When you are black in America and you fall in love with a white person, race doesn’t matter when you’re alone together because it’s just you and your love. But the minute you step outside, race matters. But we don’t talk about it. We don’t even tell our white partners the small things that piss us off and the things we wish they understood better, because we’re worried they will say we’re overreacting, or we’re being too sensitive. And we don’t want them to say, Look how far we’ve come, just forty years ago it would have been illegal for us to even be a couple blah blah blah, because you know what we’re thinking when they say that? We’re thinking why the fuck should it ever have been illegal anyway? But we don’t say any of this stuff. We let it pile up inside our heads and when we come to nice liberal dinners like this, we say that race doesn’t matter because that’s what we’re supposed to say, to keep our nice liberal friends comfortable. It’s true. I speak from experience.” 
― Americanah

“We teach girls to shrink themselves, to make themselves smaller. We say to girls, you can have ambition, but not too much. You should aim to be successful, but not too successful. Otherwise, you would threaten the man. Because I am female, I am expected to aspire to marriage. I am expected to make my life choices always keeping in mind that marriage is the most important. Now marriage can be a source of joy and love and mutual support but why do we teach girls to aspire to marriage and we don’t teach boys the same? We raise girls to see each other as competitors not for jobs or accomplishments, which I think can be a good thing, but for the attention of men. We teach girls that they cannot be sexual beings in the way that boys are.” 
― We Should All Be Feminists

“Some people ask: “Why the word feminist? Why not just say you are a believer in human rights, or something like that?” Because that would be dishonest. Feminism is, of course, part of human rights in general—but to choose to use the vague expression human rights is to deny the specific and particular problem of gender. It would be a way of pretending that it was not women who have, for centuries, been excluded. It would be a way of denying that the problem of gender targets women.” 
― We Should All Be Feminists

“The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story.” 

“Of course I am not worried about intimidating men. The type of man who will be intimidated by me is exactly the type of man I have no interest in.” 

“If you don’t understand, ask questions. If you’re uncomfortable about asking questions, say you are uncomfortable about asking questions and then ask anyway. It’s easy to tell when a question is coming from a good place. Then listen some more. Sometimes people just want to feel heard. Here’s to possibilities of friendship and connection and understanding.” 
― Americanah

“Culture does not make people. People make culture. If it is true that the full humanity of women is not our culture, then we can and must make it our culture.” 
― We Should All Be Feminists

“The problem with gender is that it prescribes how we should be rather than recognizing how we are. Imagine how much happier we would be, how much freer to be our true individual selves, if we didn’t have the weight of gender expectations.” 
―We Should All Be Feminists

“Race doesn’t really exist for you because it has never been a barrier. Black folks don’t have that choice.” 
― Americanah

“A woman at a certain age who is unmarried, our society teaches her to see it as a deep personal failure. And a man, after a certain age isn’t married, we just think he hasn’t come around to making his pick.” 
― We Should All Be Feminists

Having lived in three major metropolitan areas that have a decent sized Asian population, I have been quite spoiled when it comes to having Asian food nearby. I would always read food blogs of writers of Asian descent and how they relocated from a place like New York or California to a place that considered bok choy an exotic vegetable, where getting Indian spices like fenugreek seeds or coriander powder is at least an hour’s drive away; they would have massive nostalgia for being able to have these precious ingredients so close. Why would they relocate from what they loved so much? I always thought to myself.

At Wellesley, whenever I craved Chinese or Vietnamese food, Boston or Cambridge was just a quick 40-minute bus ride away. In San Francisco, you don’t even have to go to Chinatown to get Chinese food, as “mini Chinatowns” popped up in multiple areas, from Clement Street in the Richmond District to Irving, Noriega, and Taraval Streets in the Sunset. Here in New York, Manhattan Chinatown is a quick subway ride away from us; Flushing Chinatown is always a favorite destination of mine, but that leaves out Elmhurst’s budding mini Chinatown, Sunset Park in Brooklyn, and multiple Asian business studded streets of the Bronx. But without going to any of these so-called Chinatown-type areas, East Village, “Curry Hill” (Lexington in the 20s), and Koreatown (32nd Street between Broadway and 5th) are all extremely accessible and provide multiple options for Asian ingredients for home cooking. That doesn’t even include the random Japanese grocery stores that are sprinkled throughout the city.

Now, I have a slightly similar feeling to those relocated food bloggers I used to wonder about. Being in quarantine due to COVID-19 has made me feel more trapped than ever before when it comes to accessing foods and ingredients I want. While we are very lucky and have a full pantry, not to mention a packed fridge and freezer, there are always things I’m going to crave that are not going to be easy to get because Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods, Morton Williams, or Western Beef is not going to have the right market for Asian vegetables like water spinach/morning glory/kong xin cai, or dou miao/pea shoots. If I’m near the end of my beloved shiitake mushrooms, I can’t just hop on the subway ride down to Chinatown to get another bag of them. When I want to make Chinese taro or radish cake, well…. that just isn’t going to happen unless I can source Chinese radish or taro from a grocer that is willing to do delivery to my zip code. When Chris’s aunt posted on my YouTube channel, saying that she was still waiting for my mapo tofu video, I responded and told her it was nearly impossible to get the correct Sichuanese broad bean paste (pixian bean paste actually made and imported from Sichuan province!) that was needed to make authentic tasting mapo tofu during a time of shelter-in-place, so until I was able to source it, I wouldn’t make it a video for it because it just wouldn’t be right.

Some people probably would think I’m crazy to say that I am craving different vegetables right now because we don’t often associate “cravings” with vegetables. We usually associate it with comfort foods, which are normally carby, bready, meaty, fatty, filling. But I actually am having them now. My biggest craving is definitely for water spinach, as it’s one of my all-time favorite vegetables. I would really love to have yellow chives now. I would love to get my hands on some Thai basil and steam some gai lan / Chinese broccoli. But… these things will have to wait.

Once upon a time, I really was spoiled and super privileged to be able to have any of these above items and more pretty much a quick subway ride away. I felt like I could get nearly anything I wanted whenever I wanted, with the quantity I wanted. Now, that luxury has been taken away, if only temporarily. So when I finally do get my hands on some water spinach, I will hold it like it’s gold and chew it just a few more times to savor it all.

Once upon a time, in a land and time far away, the idea of having a million dollars seemed like a big deal, like really really big — so significant that when you finally reached that amount, you could label yourself a millionaire. Wow, I’m a millionaire! Yippee!

That time, at least, for “middle class,” white-collared professionals, particularly ones living in particularly expensive and dense areas such as New York City or the San Francisco Bay Area, has ended. Now, what does a million dollars buy you — a crappy, dilapidated two-bedroom apartment in San Francisco, crawling with roaches and full of lead-filled paint? A one-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side? Is that what you would consider “rich” today?

It’s a depressing thought. I used to always imagine I’d have a comfortable house, maybe four or five bedrooms, with a huge backyard where I could plant fruit trees, endless flowers, and have a section just for vegetables. When I was young and dreamt of that, the idea of money and building wealth wasn’t top of mind. I didn’t know the real worth of a dollar then. I don’t really want that anymore, but I do still wish I had some outdoor space. Who has that while living in New York City?!

Now, in a time of the Coronavirus pandemic, the idea of “richness” to me has changed in meaning. Now, I think about being rich in terms of food and toilet paper. Tonight, we had a third delivery from Mirchi Market, an Indian/Pakistani grocery delivery service, now a standard delivery for us during this period, and when Chris opened up the boxes, I marveled at all the fresh fruit and vegetables, the dosa batter, even the Indian mixture snacks he got. I especially widened my eyes when he unveiled an entire flat box of 16 beautiful yellow mangoes, fragrant from being nearly ripe.

I was so excited. “We’re rich! We’re rich! Look at all these mangoes!” I exclaimed. We’ve had to store some of the mangoes in our coat closet, and as a result of this, as the days have passed and they’ve slowly ripened, when I open the closet, I am immediately greeted by the floral, sweet perfume of their juices nearly oozing out.

This is what it means to be rich, to have so many gorgeous, delicious, sweet mangoes that you don’t even know where to store them all; to have a freezer so full that you have to hesitate before considering adding yet another frozen item to your shopping cart while at the grocery store; to not make another dish until you have more free space in your fridge. This is what it means to be rich right now.

Since I was young, I’ve always loved birds, especially since I was a proud owner of a particularly cheeky and smart parakeet. Traveling to different parts of the world, particularly in Southeast Asia, Brazil, and South Africa, was eye-opening in that I finally got to see some of the most colorful birds I’d ever seen before. In South Africa, I remember the moment while on a safari, we saw the bird that Zazoo from The Lion King was named after, the red-billed hornbill; this bird had at least a dozen different colors on its vibrant feathers and was quite the looker!

But without really thinking about it, right here in New York City, a concrete jungle, exists over 270 different bird species that come and go in Central Park. While pigeons, sparrows, and American robins, and blackbirds are common sightings throughout, other lesser known beautiful birds flock all over the park, particularly in the springtime when it is mating season. I didn’t realize at least half a dozen different sparrow species existed, nor did I realize that there are endless swallows all over Central Park. Very briefly, I was able to spot a cute and plump barn swallow, noted for its deep blue coloring all along its back, a white breast, and a reddish-orange throat. I’ve also seen at least four different wild finch species, ranging in brown and white colors to even red, blue, and yellow. And somehow, what they all have in common is that their preening looks top notch, as though they are extremely healthy, and they are all quite plump and fat! What the heck are they all eating?

I’ve also had the time to observe them taking their sand baths to help with their preening and shedding excess oils on their feathers. It’s quite a sight to see them fluff up and bury all parts of their bodies into areas that are quite sandy and dusty. I suppose this is what you miss during the daily hustle and bustle, even when you are taking the occasional stroll through Central Park. You miss moments in nature like these. But I guess now I can appreciate them more during my daily walks there, listening to podcasts and observing others around me, jogging or taking their own casual walks, masks on face.

After investing about a week into making my very first sourdough starter, I am now planning to use that starter as the base of my first whole wheat bread loaf. It won’t be that sour given the starter is still young, but it will be my starting place for 100 percent fully homemade bread, no commercial yeast. And in order to make whole wheat bread, I’ll need to have… whole wheat flour, which I don’t have. I was planning to take a walk to Central Park today, but en route, I realized that the line at Whole Foods had only six people, so this was my chance to finally pick up the flour I wanted. When I got in, I noticed that nearly ALL of the all-purpose flour was gone except for two 5-lb. bags. A woman just took the second to last bag on the shelf. And for the whole wheat flour, all the name brand (Bob’s Red Mill, the related) bags were gone, and only Whole Foods brand organic was left… and only about four bags. This was really surreal, as the flour shelves are usually fully stocked. I usually the only one buying flour!!!!!!! So I grabbed a 5-lb bag and went on my merry way.

The COVID-19 pandemic has really made people crave pasta, rice, bread, and other carb-heavy foods like never before. Gluten-free is not currently particularly popular anymore, is it? But then, you know the anti-gluten people are coming for you when someone like me, who has been doing a ton of sourdough starter reading and research, gets targeted on Instagram for “probiotic gluten-free starter.”

NOOOOOOO. STAY AWAY FROM MEEEEEEEEE.

With all the refunds being issued back for purchases on theater tickets and even flights, it’s almost like we’re spending money on nothing now other than food. Our grocery runs have been the biggest they’ve ever been. In the past, I was so used to making a quick stop by Trader Joe’s or Whole Foods en route home for just a handful of items whenever I needed them. Now, I’m thinking about food that we’re going to eat tonight, tomorrow, in a week, and even weeks from now, just so that we have it in stock and that I don’t have to think about it… and so that I don’t have to queue up in yet another long line for groceries the way I did last week when I waited over 40 minutes just to enter Trader Joe’s. While it was nice to shop in a nearly empty Trader Joe’s on the Upper West Side given that they are limiting the number of people entering for social distancing reasons, it was also quite eerie and surreal.

Chris is so used to having barista made coffee at work when he’s not doing work travel, so now we’re spending a lot more on fancy coffee beans than ever before. I used to rely on my office for things like bananas, morning yogurt, or even oat/cow milk for my morning tea, and now I have to buy more of all of that now. We led such frou-frou, privileged lives before in our white-tower tech companies that we never really thought much about all the “savings” we got by working at these places. And don’t even get me started on kitchen/bathroom supplies like toilet paper and paper towels. When you only use one toilet for all your bathroom runs… that toilet paper really goes much quicker than you’d think. I’ve been getting better at not using kitchen paper towels and instead relying on cloth towels, but with toilet paper, there’s really no other alternative, is there?

We’re also eating more at home, which means we are running the dishwasher more, which means more dishwasher tablets need to be purchased. And with always being home and being on high alert for the virus, we’re washing our hands even more than before, which means we need more soap. The cycle never seems to end during a pandemic of all the things you use more of that you need that you never really thought much about before.

When you are living a life of quarantine where everyone is staying indoors and non-essential businesses are closed, the weekends don’t really feel that exciting. The only better part about the weekend vs. the weekdays is that you don’t have official work or work calls and meetings, and that you don’t have to be in front of a computer throughout the day.

The most exciting thing we did today was leave the house to go to a grocery store that we’ve neglected to even enter for the last nearly three years of living here, Western Beef. It’s a nondescript grocery store with all its windows covered about three blocks away from us. I always thought it was a sketchy butcher shop until our handyman strongly suggested we go there to avoid the lines of Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods, so we went. It had a decent selection of fresh meat and fruit/vegetables at reasonable price points, and they also had a good selection of Jamaican and Dominican products. I was pleasantly surprised to see produce being sold like yucca, plantains, and aloe vera leaves. This definitely was not like Trader Joe’s or Morton Williams.

And the most exciting thing I did at home? I finally checked off Peruvian roast chicken with spicy green sauce off my “to make” list. It came out really well with perfectly juicy white and dark meat, and the green sauce tasted just like at Pio Pio and other Peruvian restaurants I’ve been to in the city. This is definitely a keeper recipe.

We were on video chat with Chris’s cousins this evening, and we talked about everything from Coronavirus to Coronavirus to Coronavirus, and then about bananas, lack of flour, sugar, and basic pantry staples at the supermarkets, to the alcohol supplies in our respective apartments. His cousin exclaimed: “See! This is what our conversations are now about, going through each others’ pantries. This is what we have resorted to. In our usual catch ups, we would be discussing work, work travel, holidays… but there’s none of that now! No one is traveling! There’s no FOMO (fear of missing out) to be had!”

That actually is all at once comforting and depressing. We’re not alone, right? We’re all alone together, stuck in our apartments and homes to entertain ourselves however we can — no trips planned for business or pleasure, no outings to restaurants, theaters, or to catch up with friends anytime in the foreseeable future. Every single one of our lives is being restricted. But I suppose we are the lucky ones; none of us have the virus or are taking care of someone who does. None of us are on the front lines, taking care of patients and thus putting ourselves at risk for COVID-19. We are extremely fortunate in our locked up states.

I will say, though, that one area of potential FOMO is what each other is eating. I was recently looking over some Facebook posts from people I know, and their lunches and dinners, to be quite frank, looked quite depressing. I’m very fortunate and privileged to have so many grocery stores around me (well, they have their queues to get in, but what can you do?), plus an extremely well rounded stock of food across our pantry, fridge, and freezer. We have many interesting meals lined up with all my recipe testing going on. My kitchen, if it were a real person, would be overwhelmed with how much attention I’m currently lavishing on it.

Four years ago today, Chris and I vowed to spend our lives together in front of our closest family and friends at a museum atop a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The weather was perfect and warm, and the ocean was crystal clear. Four years later, we are on lockdown with no foreseeable end, helplessly watching a virus that is permeating and slowly infecting and killing our fellow humans, stuck in our one-bedroom apartment, taking turns between the living/dining area and the bedroom with our customer and internal work calls and meetings. We’re leaving the apartment only for runs and walks in the park and to buy groceries. This is as close as we are going to get to being “hip to hip” and inseparable.

You never really think that in your lifetime, when you vow “forever” with anyone that you would be stuck with this person for 24 hours a day, seven days a week, without seeing pretty much anyone else. That’s not really what people sign up for when they agree to marry or coexist with a partner. But that’s what is happening. I am joining calls with customers and colleagues, complaining about their spouses, their children, being confined to a small space for who knows how long. This a trying time for many in that regard. But, I do hope we emerge stronger for this and more grateful as human beings for the literal luxuries in life that we seem to take for granted: the ability to see a friend for coffee or lunch freely, the ability to go to the gym and workout with tons of space, sitting down and enjoying a meal at a restaurant. We are not free to do any of those things right now. These luxuries are not part of our current reality. Who knows when we will get them back?

The governor of Hawaii is requiring a 14-day mandatory quarantine for anyone from mainland U.S. who comes to their island state. I knew the news would be bad for my friends who were planning a wedding the first week of May, but it was so sad to get their official message stating that their wedding would be postponed until next year due to the Coronavirus. As someone who has gone through the major efforts of planning a wedding, I realize how heartbreaking and painful all of this could be. This was truly out of everyone’s control, and nothing could have been helped in this situation.

This lockdown is affecting so many people in other ways: weddings, funerals where no one can attend, family reunions, births where the partner cannot be there in the delivery room. And on an even more depressing note, it’s scary to think of all the children and spouses who live in abusive environments whose lives are even more endangered with these lockdowns. What about those who live alone and suffer from depression? This will be particularly trying for them. It’s sad to see the effect this is having on literally everyone.