Category Archives: Contemplations on New York Life

Ronny Chieng at the West Side Comedy Club

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Tonight, Chris got us tickets to see Ronny Chieng do test material at the West Side Comedy Club, which was convenient for us given it’s just about 15 blocks north of us. We’ve already seen Ronny Chieng live numerous times over the years. One time previously in the West Village, we also got to see him perform test material. This was pre-pandemic, far before he was ever a “star” in a major Hollywood movie. But his fun, vibe, and dead panning remain amazingly the same. We sat in the front row around the stage, and he made a comment about my sandals (modern Crocs!) and how they are definitely fitting of the “Upper West Side,” and so we must not live in the area (I corrected him). “Well, I guess it’s all the new money in the area, then!” he responded.

Are we “new money”?

When we were walking back down to our apartment, Chris noticed that Ronny actually was walking a little ahead of us. He was wearing his same outfit, with his test material notebook under his arm, and the same large bottle of sparkling water in his hand. I remarked to Chris that this was such a guy thing, to carry a loose notebook with important information in it completely unprotected out and in the open when it could easily get destroyed by rain (it had rained during the time we were inside the comedy club, and could very well start again given how summer rains are in the city). Chris suggested that I tell him this myself. So we walked a little faster to catch up to him, and that was how I greeted him. He recognized us from the front row, fist-bumped us for coming to his show, asked how we found out about the show and if we had seen him perform live before. So we walked together for maybe three to four blocks before we separated ways. He was on his way to another comedy club for another standup gig — always hard at work, doing what he is most passionate about.

With this interaction, he was nowhere as socially awkward as he was when we approached him at his test material night in the East Village. He seemed more confident, happier to interact with us, and genuinely grateful we’d come to see him live. I LOVE THIS GUY.

Indoor time versus outdoor time

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I had plans to catch up with a friend this afternoon. The weather was looking to be quite sunny and hot, and so she suggested we find a place that had outdoor seating to take advantage of this great summer weather. We were aiming to meet at around 3pm, so a lot of restaurants with outdoor patios/gardens would unfortunately not be open since it wasn’t quite lunch or dinner time in the middle of the afternoon. So I suggested we meet at Pier I, which is one of Chris’s favorite places to meet his neighborhood friend for afternoon beers in the summer time. It’s right at Riverside Park at around 70th Street and sits directly with a view of the Hudson River and New Jersey. While it’s a very nice outdoor space that is well laid out, has decent food and drink options, and even has a public restroom, I have actually spent very little time there. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve sat and enjoyed the outdoor time there.

When I was sitting out there with my friend this afternoon, this made me think about how much time in our lifetimes we spend indoors versus out. The stat that I found, according to the Building Green blog (not sure how reputable this is, but hey, it’s what first came up!) says that the average person spends about 90 percent of their entire life indoors. This number breaks down to about 87 percent of time spent inside buildings, and an additional 6 percent inside enclosed vehicles (this could be cars, buses, trains, or planes). This leaves only about 7 percent, or less than two hours a day, spent completely outdoors.

I don’t know why, but this sounded like a sad statistic to me. I realize that is weird given I have willingly chosen to live in a concrete jungle my entire adult life, but even major cities like New York have great outdoor spaces. And the restaurants and cafes that have outdoor gardens, patios, and seatings always feel like such a treat. It made me realize that I definitely do not spend enough time outdoors, and I personally should be seeking it out more — very intentionally, especially when the weather is good. That time is NOW since it’s summer! I am especially spoiled because we have an open air rooftop deck in our apartment building, so I have very easy access to “the outdoors” that is physically on top of my building. Chris reminds me that I don’t use it enough (well, no one who lives here takes advantage of that amenity enough!), and so I did spend some time up there reading before I went to see my friend.

So there’s a little goal on top of my body recomposition goal I have this summer: to spend more time outdoors, even when I do not *have to* (like walking to get groceries).

Trader Joe’s at 72nd Street Upper West Side closes, so Trader Joe’s at 92nd Street/Columbus becomes an even bigger zoo

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Late April, I heard the unfortunate news that my neighborhood Trader Joe’s at 72nd Street and Broadway had plans to temporarily close for about four months for renovations. I usually go to Trader Joe’s every other week and use that as some outdoor steps time for me, so I was sad about this. Now, the closest TJ’s to me is on Columbus between 92nd and 93rd Street. While technically, I still can walk, that’s a much longer walk, which means it will take more time, which means that it will require a bigger chunk of my day to go. And I usually try to go on a weekday late morning when my calendar is lighter to avoid the most insane crowds and lines. So until about September, I will need to more carefully plan my Trader Joe’s visits and be more strategic about when these will happen. And as such, I will likely go less frequently, which also means I will end up buying more items per visit. So my plan is to walk up there, get my groceries, and take the bus back down.

Today was the first day I did the trek up. The walk was nice; I always like walking outside in the mornings, especially now that it’s getting warmer with summer here. But as soon as I stepped into this Trader Joe’s at 92nd Street, I felt a bit overwhelmed. I saw people whizzing and running by me, a few in actual circles. Carts were nearly crashing into each other left and right. I lost count of the number of people who either bumped me with their cart/shopping basket or themselves. There was no real, clear flow of “traffic” in this store. Many of the shelves were already cleared out or near empty. I wanted to stock up on about two weeks’ worth of Greek yogurt, and my timing was just such that I was able to snag the last two quart-sized containers — pure luck. I’d never been in this store location before, and so I wasn’t used to the layout and got weirded out when all the cereals and cereal-adjacent items were not in the same area. The only thing I like more about this store layout versus my neighborhood TJs is that everything is on a single floor. I’d never liked the 72nd Street “two floors” situation. While that does help with traffic flow, I never like the lack of natural light on the lower level.

After I got all my stuff and paid, I was happy to be able to have the bus stop just a block away. But then when I got on the bus, there was barely any space for me: multiple people were there with walkers and strollers…. or their own shopping bags. I eventually got a seat in the back, but getting on was really uncomfortable with my three packed canvas bags full of groceries and trying not to step on anyone’s feet/stroller/walkers.

While I will definitely do this trip again in July, I am not sure I can go here every other week until September. That TJs location is a zoo with many accidents waiting to happen. And if that doesn’t already increase my stress level, the bus situation will also not be fun. Who would have thought about the bus being packed at around midday on a Monday?

ChatGPT Premium – Therapist, trainer, dietitian, work assistant, everything now

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Chris just got us a good deal on ChatGPT Premium, so instead of relying on my free version of Claude AI to answer my life’s deepest and most important questions, I am now deferring to ChatGPT Premium for what is obviously very, very premium answers. So I have a few chats that are completely disorganized and mislabeled in ChatGPT now, but they are mostly following along these themes: family travel/food/itinerary planning, workout regimen design based on my 40s status/perimenopause prep/desire to lose subcutaneous fat/build lean muscle, and a meal planning/prep plan to go with said workout regimen. I also ask ChatGPT questions about things that originally confused me, like why can collagen powder not be considered a “complete protein” that “triggers” the body to realize I want to build lean muscle (UGH, what a bad purchase given my goals). And also, why can’t my old pea protein powder be a “complete protein”? As you can see, “complete proteins” are very much top of mind the last couple months.

And then here and there, I have some work questions, so I have to ask ChatGPT to help me with research, changing my tone in a message, or drafting a message that I really do not want to write myself. So, ChatGPT really has become like my therapist, my work buddy, my trainer, my dietitian — almost my everything now. How can I even live without this thing now?? And just a year ago, I barely even used this thing!

Signs of a fancy breakfast

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Yesterday morning, Chris and I were invited to a new parents welcome breakfast at Kaia’s soon-to-be new school come September. It would be a mix of staff, current, and new parents so that we could all have an opportunity to get to know one another. I showed up at the event this morning before Chris did since he had to do school dropoff, and I took a quick scan of the breakfast layout. It had a lot of what I expected: a mix of bagels and spreads, pastries, yogurts, fruit, coffee, and tea. But what caught my eye immediately was the fruit spread: it was all raspberries and blueberries.

You know you are at a fancy, ultra-premium breakfast event when you see the fruit spread, and it’s all berries. We all know berries are some of the most expensive fruit (at least, here in the U.S.). There was no melon in sight, which I personally define as “filler fruit” that most caterers would use to increase the volume of fruit on a serving platter while decreasing their own costs. It’s usually too much cantaloupe and (god forbid) honeydew, and they are usually so bland that they end up just being sugar water.

The second sign this was a premium breakfast event was what Chris noticed when he took a look at the juice bottles in the ice buckets: there were bottles of cold-pressed Sumo citrus mandarin juice. These are the ultra, ultra premium, expensive, and hard to grow mandarins that we got gifted at Lunar New Year. I’d never seen this type of juice at any event or any store — anywhere. I ended up buying more and requesting Chris buy more of these. While he admitted that they did taste amazing and were worlds apart from regular mandarins, he asked me if I really wanted to continue buying these because I’d probably make our household go broke (half joking, half serious).

The event was enjoyable and worth the time. It’s clear there’s a great community here. And it’s also great to see that we’re paying for premium food for these events through our tuition money. 🙂

Longer days, warmer weather = happier self

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Ever since I was young, I have always disliked cold weather. The dreary, grey overcast days of the Richmond District of San Francisco always made me feel miserable. Then, when I made the decision to move East for college, snow was fun for about a hot second, and then it settled in to me that this atrocity would last about three months every year. Overall, I’ve really embraced the distinct seasons (especially spring, summer, and autumn), but I always have a general dread for winter because of the shorter, darker days and the extreme cold.

So when it starts warming up in late spring, I always get excited. The days are getting noticeably longer, and I can feel myself just feeling happier in general that I can look forward to lots of sun, natural light through our windows, and not needing to wear layers every day. I am the happiest when I can walk out my front door and not put on any layer on top – no zip-up, no windbreaker, no coat — nothing (other than a hat)! This time of year, I am definitely my happier self.

When you get home from a trip, it’s time to properly wash your whites

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After a trip, I have always been one of those maniacal people who need to unpack everything right away as soon as I get home. I want all the dirty clothes put in the wash. I want all toiletries put away. I need all souvenirs or edible things separated and stored properly. I also want travel things like travel bag compartments, totes, backpacks, and luggage put away, stat. The idea behind this is that I want to relax as soon as possible and be in a calm state of mind, and I won’t be able to have any of that unless everything dirty gets cleaned, and everything that needs to be put away is put away.

Well, I’ve added one additional thing to my list ever since I decided to start embracing white clothing a year ago: if I bring white clothing with me, I NEED to set aside time to wash them properly. This means whipping out my trusty Jamaican blue soap bar, scrubbing visible stains with the blue soap, soaking in a bucket, rinsing, and then throwing into the washing machine. It’s an additional step, but I am getting a satisfying kick out of this process. It really only applies to several garments of clothing, plus my white slip-on AllBirds, but I always love the feeling of looking at my whites after they’ve come out of the wash and laying them out to air dry and hopefully further be bleached whiter by the sun.

Maybe it’s a sign of getting older that I’ve embraced this little menial and annoying task that I avoided like the plague for so much of my life. I think the last time I intentionally bought a pure white garment was maybe over ten years ago. And before that, it was in college. And I barely wore those pants from over ten years ago because I didn’t understand how to clean it properly then, and I got so mad at how the stains would never come out in the washing machine on their own. Now, I take real ownership of my whites and do my best to keep them super white! I’m sure my former Jamaican nanny would be proud!

Chris’s parents go back Down Under after a month-plus in North America

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Chris’s parents left this afternoon for their long flight back to Melbourne after just over a month of traipsing around North America, with several days or week-long stints at our place. It’s always fun in the lead-up to their arrival, and then there’s some sadness at the end when Kaia realizes that her beloved Sumi and Topi are not going to cater to her demands every evening forever and ever because they will leave. Even I feel a little sad when they go. There’s less people and thus less chatter and noise in the house. There are fewer mouths to feed, which is sad for me because I enjoy feeding those I love. And then there is also just less energy in the house. I even miss the things that can at times be annoying, like Chris’s dad constantly trying to eat everything with a fork and knife (even things like… muffins or french fries…) because he hates getting his hands dirty, or Chris’s mom asking for the millionth time if we are going to run yet another wash. I miss the classist conversations of Chris yelling at his parents about how pretentious they are, and even the one-sided talks about how marriages of today don’t last simply because people of my generation have unreasonably high standards and inflexibility (said by people who would most likely be seen as inflexible and stubborn, but hey, who needs self-awareness today?). The banter is fun because I know it will all eventually go out the door with them. So it’s all temporal and good entertainment for me.

As I left the building, our handyman friend asked us what was new, and I told him that Chris’s parents just left to go back to Melbourne. “Oh, you can breathe a sigh of relief then!” he said to me, patting me on my back.

“No, I actually am sad they are leaving,” I smiled. “The more, the merrier!”

“Well, isn’t that unusual!” he responded back, surprised.

He says this to me pretty much every year they come, and he forgets that I genuinely like my in-laws. I like spending time with them. And every visit when they come and tolerate their eldest son’s ridiculous demands and our much smaller, cozier living space versus what they have, I am reminded again and again how, relatively speaking, they actually are quite easy-going, far more so than almost any other parent or in-law I have known or heard of, of their generation. And for that, I am always grateful.

The amazing pizza guy in Washington Heights who sent me home with a huge sample of his Calabrian chili oil

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On Chris’s parents’ last full day with us before they head back to Melbourne, we took them up to Washington Heights. Chris decided our lunch “appetizer” would be at a local pizza spot that opened about 1.5 years ago, which happens to be just next door to a really good Singaporean hole-in-the-wall we’ve dined at a couple times.

Niccolo Pizzeria was a tiny spot, but was so, so memorable today! We got two cheese slices, which were excellent – super thin crust and crispy. The cheese, tomato sauce, and the crust were all perfection! But what truly, truly blew us away was the super warm and friendly hospitality from Cleber, the manager/owner. He was extremely kind and explained the menu and ingredients to us right away — he made us feel like family there. He even humored Kaia and gave her a VERY generous helping of their daily in-house made soft-serve gelato, which today was white chocolate-pineapple. When we told him we live on the Upper West Side and came just to try a few things in the area since Chris’s parents were visiting from Australia, he was so shocked not only that we came from another neighborhood, but also brought international visitors to his restaurant! So he gave us a second generous sample of their soft serve gelato. He also insisted we not miss his Calabrian chili oil. He told me he imports the Calabrian chilies in oil from Italy, then simply adds high quality extra virgin olive oil to them and allows the chilies to infuse the olive oil. He doesn’t add anything else! At that point, we’d already finished our pizza share, but I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to try a new chili oil. So I poured a few drops onto my plate and licked it, and WOW! The Calabrian chili oil had this really delicious smoky, fruity flavor with a huge hit of heat at the end, which was really addictive! I told Cleber how much I loved it, and he was so thrilled that he PACKED ME A GENEROUS SAMPLE OF THE CALABRIAN CHILI OIL TO BRING HOME. I nearly passed out from Cleber’s kindness and generosity. In a city as big and packed with endless good restaurant options, sometimes hospitality takes a back seat to food and atmosphere, but most definitely not here.

Trying Calabrian chili oil today was also very good timing because I was just reading Samin Nosrat’s book Good Things, in which she includes a very labor-intensive, 20+ ingredient recipe for her Calabrian chili oil, which is essentially a mash-up of Italian (Calabrian), Sichuanese, Japanese, Mexican chili oils. The description sounds like it could potentially be the perfect chili oil. I was debating whether I really wanted to go to such lengths to make it, but I was intrigued because I’d never tried Calabrian chilies before, nor tasted their oil… until today. And now, I might actually be sold to put her Calabrian chili oil on my growing “project cooking” list.

Morning corn muffins gone awry

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This June will officially mark 18 years that I’ve been living in New York City. I have lived more of my life now on the East Coast than the West, and that feels kind of strange to acknowledge out loud. When people think of things that mark their new lives in a new place, especially in a concrete jungle like New York where tiny apartments and even tinier kitchens are the norm, most of them probably do not think about the kitchen gear they started with.

But I do. I still remember when I had to build my original kitchen from scratch, I slowly but surely made visits to the Kmart (RIP — one at Astor Place in Manhattan, which has since been replaced by the massive Wegman’s) and to Target at Queens Center Mall in Elmhurst, Queens. I remember some of my very first kitchen purchases quite fondly: my two tempered glass Anchor brand lasagna/casserole pans, my cheap $8 nonstick cookie sheets that lasted over 10 years, my Corelle dining set (with a design that I really dislike, but I was cheap at the time, so I got it since it was the cheapest option), and my standard sized metal 12-muffin tin.

I don’t have all those kitchen items anymore. Many I gave away, like some Corelle pieces that were duplicates of things Chris had when I moved in with him, or the smaller Anchor casserole pan that I rarely used (gifted to another friendly Buy-Nothing member!). The cookie sheets actually failed, warped, and somehow managed to snap in the oven — they literally went out with a bang — a pretty terrifying one! The muffin tin was heavily used when I lived in Elmhurst, but only sporadically since I moved to Manhattan. And then today, this 18-year-old muffin tin unfortunately saw its demise.

I got inspired to make muffins again during our recent May weekend up in the Finger Lakes/Ithaca with Chris’s parents. Along the way, we made a quick breakfast stop at this delicious, popular spot called Dottie Audrey’s Bakery + Kitchen. There, we ordered two perfectly made breakfast sandwiches, a walnut sticky bun, a sour cream coffee cake slice, and a huge, fat corn muffin stuffed with strawberry jam. While I loved everything we got from here, I will say that immediately, my first thought was that I wanted to try replicating the super crunchy corn top of the corn muffin. I loved the crunchy muffin top texture so much contrasted with the gritty, coarse, yet fluffy, not-too-sweet muffin innards. I remembered that a friend told me she used a blueberry corn muffin recipe she liked a lot from NYT Cooking, so I decided to go with that. The only swap I made was replacing half the all-purpose flour with whole wheat flour for extra whole grains.

Well, I didn’t have muffin liners, so I generously oiled the muffin tin and filled them with batter, then baked it. Unfortunately, the muffins didn’t beautifully dome the way I was hoping. Instead, they kind of flattened on top of the tin, and I realized immediately that I was going to have a frustrating (and messy!) time popping these muffins out. And it was super annoying: several of them broke apart as I removed them from the tin. One almost completely disintegrated into a pile of massive crumbs, and I ended up eating the crumbs by the handful. They were tasty, but they didn’t have a beautiful dome, and they were nowhere as crunchy as Dottie Audrey’s Bakery + Kitchen.

If we didn’t have Chris’s parents over as guests (or any guests for that matter), I’d never make muffins because Chris isn’t that into them, and I can’t bring myself to eat this many muffins. And then Kaia prefers the mini ones. Muffins are kind of like dessert to me: they are a special occasion-at-home bake like cake or cookies are. We need more mouths to warrant the effort to make them. But with this, I realized that the end of this muffin tin’s life had finally arrived. So after rinsing it, I said goodbye to it as I chucked it into the recycling bin (it’s metal, so it must be recyclable, right?!).

Now, I am debating whether I want to buy a replacement regular-sized silicone muffin plan, or if I should just live with a 6-muffin silicone pan I was gifted at graduation in 2008, plus the mini muffin pan I use for Kaia’s healthy muffin treats.