Category Archives: Cooking

Cooking for my new mama friend in Staten Island

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When my best friend told me she was pregnant earlier this year, I told her that after she gave birth, I would come over to cook for her. She expressed interest in all the Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) foods, the Chinese postpartum confinement meals, and I immediately got excited, thinking that I could come cook these things for her. When I gave birth and was recovering, I didn’t have anyone come cook for me. At that time, there was another COVID outbreak. My mom didn’t want to travel, and my aunt apologized to me multiple times for not being there to take care of me and cook for me, even though she’s not even my mother and not even my blood-related aunt. What my aunt did do, which I am still grateful for to this day, is she went out and bought and labeled all the ingredients for the Chinese chicken wine soup (ji jiu tang) she would have made for me. She bought the ingredients in quantities so large that I’d just run out of most of them just recently. She sent me instructions for how to make the soup. And since then I’ve made it a number of times and love it; it doesn’t even matter if you’re recovering from childbirth or not, but the soup itself is so soothing and comforting. It’s like a Chinese hug in a bowl. As I made this soup numerous times, I thought to myself — I’d love to make these types of dishes for a postpartum friend so that they can also have a hug in multiple bowls.

So, after taking a regular subway train, an express bus (for the first time ever — and I also just learned it’s not covered by my OMNY card; I had to pay $7 extra just to board this damn bus!), and then a quick $15 Uber ride, I was at my friend’s house in Staten Island. I had prepped a number of things leading up to this day to streamline cooking at her place. In her kitchen, I quickly made myself at home and made these dishes: multigrain congee (purple long grain rice, brown long grain jasmine, white short grain, and yellow mung beans, sweetened with a hint of rock sugar and flavored with a touch of ginger), pork rib and fig soup, braised “eggs hugging tofu” (jidan bao doufu), dang shen herbal tea, and hawthorn berry, longan, and cinnamon herbal tea. Yesterday night, I made stir-fried water spinach/morning glory/ong choy/kong xin cai with shrimp paste and packed it in a glassware. I also made a batch of lactation cookies with galactagogues; after my own breastfeeding journey, I honestly don’t believe in “galactagogues,” but who is going to say no to cookies?! I used the same recipe I used for myself that has oats, flaxseed, butter, coconut oil, and 70 percent Valrhona chocolate feves; this time I didn’t have brewer’s yeast, but I did throw in a handful of sliced almonds for extra protein. In Chinatown, I also picked up some “spongies,” or “paper wrapped sponge cakes” for her since I know she likes them.

It was a pain in the ass to get to her house in Staten Island to say the least. Her fiance had the stomach flu, so he wasn’t able to pick me up or drop me off at the ferry. I ended up having to take the express bus (on a tight schedule) and two Ubers (more money than I would have liked) to get there. I was also carrying quite a load of things on my back. So by the end of the day, I was pretty tired, and my shoulders were sore and tight from the weight I carried. All of that was annoying, but in the end, I didn’t mind it because it meant I got to cook for my friend. And I find meaning in helping her, in cooking for her, in nourishing her, and in making sure she feels loved and supported. There is meaning and purpose in doing all that to me. And while most people would never do something like this for a friend, even a close one, or someone who was not blood related, I think that most people in general want to do the easiest, laziest thing just to have more time for themselves to do things that are completely and utterly meaningless. It is so easy to send a baby gift, to attend a baby shower (it’s a party where you get free food!), to even send a DoorDash gift card or pay for someone else’s food delivery. All of the above acts, other than attending a shower, can be achieved in minutes and with just a few clicks of a keyboard or taps on your smartphone. What is not easy is traveling to your friend, who lives over 1.5 hours away from you by public transport, cleaning her kitchen, making her several home-cooked dishes and teas that you know she will like and savor, and cleaning all that up so she doesn’t have a mess left behind.

I think we really show the people in our lives we genuinely love and care for them when we do the things that are not easy, that actually require real thought, time, and effort. I was chatting with some colleagues about doing this for my friend this week, and they all commented and expressed how amazed they were that I’d do something like this; it’s odd to me because most of them know I love cooking, so it’s really not a strenuous effort on my part. I kind of shrugged. For me, as I stated above, this is meaningful. I want to spend time doing things that make me feel like I’m fulfilling a purpose and giving my life meaning. What do they spend time on that they find meaningful?

Ube pandesal at home does not resemble ube pandesal at the Filipino bakery

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Earlier this year on a Saturday, we went back to my original New York City neighborhood, Elmhurst, and stopped by a Filipino bakery called Kape’t Torta. They opened in 2019 just blocks away from my old apartment on Queens Boulevard. They’re known for their ube desserts, such as their ube layered cake, ube custard layered cake, and of course, their halo halo crushed ice drink/dessert. We picked up a couple of their ube pandesals, which I had heard of before but had never tried. I’d previously made a plain sweet pandesal bread roll before, but I’d never had an ube one. This was was extremely electric purple with a light, melty cheese filling on the inside. I figured I could try to make it at home at some point, so I made a mental note of it and moved on.

In May, I stopped by a Filipino grocery store in Staten Island, and I finally stumbled across 100 percent dehydrated ube powder imported from the Philippines – no artificial coloring, flavorings, or preservatives. I knew this was my opportunity to finally make ube pandesal, so I bought the packet.

Fast forward to this last week, and I was testing to see if a packet of dry active yeast was still active. Luckily for me, it was, so I decided this was my week to finally try making ube pandesal. I picked a random food blog and used their recipe, but unfortunately, my result was nothing like the photo. For one, the recipe blogger says that ube extract is “optional,” but when I see the color of my dough, it’s clear that the ube extract was needed for that electric purple color. My pale purple tinted dough didn’t come close to the blog pictures or the ube pandesal from Kape’t Torta. Plus, when I did some searches, I found out that ube extract did not just have artificial coloring, but it also had an enhanced “ube” flavor from artificial and “natural” flavorings, meaning that it wasn’t 100 pure, natural ube flavor. What I perceive to be “ube flavor” may in reality just be a bunch of artificial flavors made up in a lab. Then, my dough was much softer and wetter than it was supposed to be, so to compensate, I had to keep adding flour until the dough was kneadable. This resulted to a watering down of the overall ube and sweet flavor. So in the end, while the rise of the dough was beautiful, and while the pandesal rolls were light, fluffy, airy, and spongy, they did not have a bright electric purple color. They were also not filled with kaya jam as I originally hoped because the dough was just too soft to withstand a filling.

I’ve been cutting the ube “pandesal” rolls in half this week, warming them up lightly, and then filling them with kaya jam. I have grown to like these slightly yeasted, spongy glorified and enriched “pandesal” bread rolls that are lightly tinted purple. They are definitely light, airy, and fluffy. But they lack that “ube” flavor I know… from that ube extract that I never realized was always used. I thought about it and realized that what I romanticize as authentic “ube pandesal” may actually be authentic with dehydrated ube powder AND ube extract. The artificial coloring and flavoring from ube extract may be artificial, but that’s probably what contributes to the “authenticity” of these types of rolls in the Philippines. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing — it just is what it is.

The colander and pictures of JiuJiu around the house

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When we got back to my parents’ house last Friday evening, I saw that my mom had washed and begun cutting a bunch of yu choy. I told her to leave them there and that I’d cook them for us for Saturday dinner. I proceeded to cut the stalks and leaves the way I always do, then blanch in a pot of boiling water with a drizzle of oil, a few shakes of salt. After about a minute, I drained them in the largest stainless steel colander I could find in their kitchen. And even though I have three of my own stainless steel colanders in my kitchen back in New York, there was something about the construction of this deep, rounded colander, the size, quantity, and placement of all the little round holes, that made draining the yu choy almost instant. I watched the water speedily drain out, and there I was left with perfectly cooked yu choy, almost fully drained with a few shakes.

This colander is probably around 25 years old. I still remember it: Ed purchased this piece in the housing wares department at Stonestown Macy’s just shortly after he started working there. Once he began his job at Macy’s in the “domestics” (bedding) section, he basically went through the house to see what could be improved upon, and he chose this colander as one of the first things to buy for the kitchen. To this day, the colander is still in excellent condition, and it functions just as well as I remember it when it was brand new. Our parents’ kitchen still has a number of things Ed bought that they continue to use. Every time I see another one of those pieces, I feel a little more sad that he’s no longer with us. There’s even a set of Lenox Butterfly Meadow crystal flutes that are still sitting in their original box, unused, on a dining room shelf. They match the dessert plates and tea cups that Ed got me for my birthday in January 2012.

On Saturday morning, Kaia kept asking about the pictures on display in the dining room, so I took a lot of the framed photos and after dusting them off, I pointed to the faces and named the people for her. Some of them needed no naming: of course, she immediately recognized Chris’s face and mine, as well as both my parents’. With the younger baby photos, she did need some help. But after a few photos of Ed, she started picking up on him. And when I’d show her subsequent photos of Ed, within a second, she’d say it was her JiuJiu.

It’s hard to believe it’s been over 12 years since Ed died. It’s been 12 years of coming back to this house, knowing that he will never be here to greet me or see me ever again. And even though it’s been that long, I still have that feeling in the back of my mind he will just surprise me and show up. I say that every time I come home, but since Kaia has been around, it’s almost like I feel it even more deeply — maybe because it’s on behalf of both Kaia and me. He never knew what it was like to be an uncle, to have a niece as sweet and cheeky as Kaia Pookie. It’s not just about me anymore. I know he would love to meet her.

But it will never be.

Olive oil cake with buttermilk and Tunisian extra-virgin olive oil

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Last year, after over a decade of having the famous Maialino olive oil cake recipe bookmarked, I finally made their cake for an extended family gathering at Chris’s parents’ cousins’ house a few blocks away from us. It was a huge, tall cake: nine inches in diameter, over three inches in height. Even with over 15 people in attendance, we had a lot of leftover cake. So, I did take about a third of the cake home. It was a beautiful and delicious cake, but I remember it was quite dense and large, so definitely not an everyday cake that I could just whip up if a couple people came over for dinner. I needed an equivalent that was lighter, fluffier, smaller, and with an airier crumb.

After I made that cake in the spring of last year, I went searching for a different olive oil cake variation, and lo and behold, I found what seemed like the perfect one on Serious Eats (where else?!). The Serious Eats recipe for olive oil cake can be comfortably made in an eight-inch cake pan with a two-inch height (so a lot more doable if we had a party of four or five dining together). It uses just one egg (versus Maialino’s three eggs), and to create a more complex tasting crumb, instead of milk, it uses buttermilk. The whole mixing process from end to end could take just five minutes if you have everything pre-measured out; the entire cake bakes in 33 minutes! This recipe uses 3/4 cup of olive oil, while the Maialino recipe uses 1 1/3 cups (same flavor impact, a lot less olive oil, which when you are buying a premium variety, is very expensive!). Of course, with an olive oil cake, the olive oil flavor is the star of the show, so you want to use the purest, freshest, most delicious olive oil you can get your hands on. I finally pulled out my Terra Delyssa Tunisian extra virgin olive oil for baking this cake. I was excited about Terra Delyssa when I found it at Costco this past spring, and I knew it would be perfect for baking based on how fresh it was (just picked and processed this past February!).

After I baked and un-molded the cake, I loved how light it felt in my hand as I placed it on a serving plate. And when I cut into it this evening after dinner and had my first bite, it tasted like the most perfect olive oil cake: rich in olive oil flavor, not too sweet, a light, fluffy crumb, and extremely moist. I used lemon zest and some homemade rose water for extra flavor, and that extra citrus really complemented the olive oil flavor well. This Tunisian olive oil is rich and grassy — it was really perfect for baking an olive oil cake. Now, my search for the perfect olive oil cake is complete! I won’t be looking for another one again. In the future, I may vary this up by adding a mix of orange and lemon zest, or maybe a couple teaspoons of freshly squeezed lemon or orange juice. There are so many possibilities with this gorgeous cake.

Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) ingredients; appreciation for culture

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I’ve never been a pro medicine person. I avoid pain medications for as long as I can possibly stand, which is a bit odd to say because luckily, I rarely have a need for them unless I’m having a god-awful period, or suddenly a headache is coming on. I would much rather do whatever “natural” remedy out there exists. For period pain, if possible, I would use a heat pack on my abdomen. For headaches at night, I would rather just sleep it off or drink more water. But sometimes, the medication is absolutely vital, like when you get pertussis (good ol’ whooping cough!) or a peri-tonsillar abscess (the miserable joy from last November that I would much rather forget ever happened to me). Then, you have to take the damn pills and give in.

I never thought much about Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) even though I was given endless tonics, herbal teas, and soups lovingly made by my grandma, mom, and aunt growing up. They always said that at a given time of year (depending on the season), your body needs these herbs or these berries or special ingredients. I generally just smiled and nodded, obediently drinking or consuming whatever they gave me and assuming that it really was all good for my health. It’s not that I ever doubted it; it’s more that I wasn’t sure how much “better off” I was now that I had consumed said soup or tonic. I didn’t start actively thinking about TCM until I got pregnant in 2021 and was carrying my Kaia Pookie. Then suddenly, I was reading about all the benefits of all these Eastern ingredients and assuming that of course, they all must be nourishing and making my baby and me stronger! I wanted whatever natural remedies and herbs were out there to help me recovery more quickly and to potentially help give me a good milk supply!

One of my best friends is about to give birth any hour now. And I told her that I would make some of these TCM herbal teas and soups for her after she came home. So now, I’m once again immersed in all the ingredients. I had to restock a bunch of things I ran out of from my postpartum period, and I went to a herbal shop in Chinatown today with English/Chinese/pinyin notes ready in case I couldn’t find what I wanted and needed help. This was my list:

Red dates (hong zao): High in antioxidants; “heaty,” so good for postpartum recovery and “warming the body”

Dang shen root: Good for restoring “qi” or vital energy; helps combat fatigue and exhaustion; nourishes blood, supports digestion by strengthening spleen and stomach; boosts immunity; like “poor man’s ginseng” because it’s milder but still beneficial

Goji berries (gou qi): Combats fatigue, boosts immune system, high antioxidants

Dried wild yam slices (huai shan): Restores energy and vitality; good for kidney health, can increase milk production, cleanses system after giving birth, helps with hormone balance

Dried longan (gui yuan gan or long yan gan): Improves blood circulation, increases energy and vitality; can increase milk production

Astralagus root (huang qi): Immunity boosting, high in antioxidants, good for kidney function and sleep quality

Dried hawthorn berries (shan zha): Rich in antioxidants, boosts digestion, improves skin health

I suppose it’s true that with age, we start believing more of what our elders taught us when we were young. I guess that may be the reason, along with my general anti-medicine approach, that I’ve started reading more about TCM. In the last two years, I’ve gotten more into making nourishing, homey Chinese soups; it’s made me realize that many times, less actually can be more. And I’ve also read more about what traditional Chinese herbs and ingredients I could incorporate into everyday cooking. It’s not only been fascinating and fun to learn about, but the other way I look at this is that I’m delving into yet another aspect of my (Chinese) culture that I hadn’t previously paid much attention to. No, I won’t be using or suggesting any of these herbs to cure anyone’s cancer or HIV, but I do believe that a lot of these herbs can play a role in everyday health maintenance and wellness, so why not incorporate them? Plus, it’s another way to diversify one’s diet and ensure you’re eating more plants, which is a win for anyone!

Making banh xeo after 3.5 years and paying it forward with baby gear

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I hosted some friends over for lunch today and decided to make a Vietnamese meal. After spending the last two weeks eating a lot of Peruvian and Ecuadorian food, I was definitely feeling a craving for something Vietnamese. I thought about one of my favorite Vietnamese dishes, banh xeo, and decided that this would be the weekend I’d make it! I thought about the last time I’d made this dish, and I realized it wasn’t since November 2021, or just a few weeks before I gave birth to Kaia. Then, I also made it for a lunch I was hosting. During that lunch in this very same apartment, some friends came out from Long Island to drop off several boxes worth of baby gear they were either giving us as brand new (because they never got to using them) or lightly used. So, it’s been 3.5 years since I last made this dish at home. Then, I was welcoming friends over who were handing down baby items to us. This lunch, I am handing down baby items to these other friends, including the stroller that we used regularly for over 2.5 years. All these baby items are expensive and add up, plus they take up space. So, I was happy to give new life to a lot of these items, as well as clear space in my closets!

Then when I made banh xeo, I am willing to bet I made it in either my Scanpan (in other words, “fake” or “healthier” nonstick) or in a ceramic pan (also seemingly fake since the ceramic coating barely lasts at all!). This time was the very first time I was not using a nonstick pan; instead, I was using my carbon steel pan and was a bit wary of whether the crepe would stick and make a mess. But, I figured that since these are supposed to be my “forever” and “healthy” pans that I had to give it a try. If this works with banh xeo, then my next step would be to try out making my beloved banh cuon in them!

Somehow, I was able to get it. After a few tries, I was able to get the crepe to release itself from the pan, and the crispiness turned out well. I did experience some hot spots where some parts crisped (and almost burnt) more than others, but I realized that yes, I could successfully make banh xeo in my carbon steel pans as long as I had the heat calibrated just right. It just takes some patience; each banh xeo needs about 10 minutes of cooking time to fully cook through, crisp up, and properly release from the pan. As I kept cooking, I also got those beautiful lacy edges on the crepe that I love so much (and are particularly crispy!).

Banh xeo is a food to share. Whether eaten and wrapped in rice paper or lettuce with herbs, it’s a food that really makes eating a true “activity.” So I’m happy to make it for loved ones who can appreciate that it’s a labor of love, but also a labor of deliciousness.

Sichuan style cabbage, elevated with premium ingredients

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Ever since I splurged on a number of premium Sichuanese Chinese ingredients on Mala Market, I’ve never looked back. Every single ingredient I’ve purchased that I’ve either tested or used in cooking has been really exceptional and quite worth the relatively higher price I paid for the items. This week, I’ve been busy clearing out the fridge in preparation for our two weeks away in South America. I picked up a small head of Napa cabbage and used half of it for my lion’s head meatball braise, but I still had another half head to use up. So, I decided to prepare the cabbage Sichuanese stir-fry style with lots of garlic, Baoning Sichuanese black vinegar, Zhongba soy sauce, and toasted Mala Market Sichuan red peppercorns. And I’ll be honest: while the Chinese historically have loved cabbage and consider it one of the best vegetables on earth, I…. think it’s just fine. It’s a good vegetable, but it’s not in my top five or even ten. Whenever I have the choice of pork and chive vs. pork and cabbage dumplings, 10 times out of 10, I will always choose pork and chive. But when the cabbage is prepared like this with these premium ingredients, this vegetable almost becomes good enough to be a standalone dish on its own. After I tasted a few bites of it after cooking it, I could totally imagine myself eating just this cabbage stir-fry with some rice. It was that good. Chris, who is not usually a cabbage fan and eats it begrudgingly at the beginning of his meal to get to the “better” foods, even admitted it was “very good.”

Kao fu (seitan) and shi zi tou (Lion’s Head meatballs)

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I look back on my childhood dining-out experiences, and almost all the meals out with family were Cantonese Chinese family-style meals. We always went to a no-frills Cantonese spot in the neighborhood that my grandma or aunt liked, and given we were with my grandma, aunt, uncle, and three sons, we always had a large table with a big lazy Susan in the middle. The few times when we were taking out someone “special” (some random relative or family friend who “had money”) as a guest of honor, my aunt or uncle would choose a fancier Chinese place that was a bit more upscale. At these rare fancy meals, the dinner would always start with an assortment of small plates, cold dishes that consisted of a variety of flavors, textures, and heat levels. The one that consistently showed up that I remember with fondness was hong shao kao fu (braised Shanghainese style seitan). I never knew what the heck it was. All I knew was that it was sweet, salty, umami, and had a variety of fun textures. I remember the meaty shiitake mushrooms, the crunchy cloud ear mushrooms, and some strange, squishy, meaty sponge-like thing that was almost like tofu, but not quite. As an adult, I later learned that this was called “seitan,” also known as wheat gluten, and was a popular meat substitute and source of protein for vegetarians/Buddhists. I also liked the slight crunch from the peanuts that were braised in the same liquid/sauce.

I finally made this seitan dish for the first time last year and was surprised how straightforward and easy it was. From my memory, it’s likely the very first Shanghainese dish I was ever exposed to. The second Shanghainese dish I had that I liked, which I wasn’t exposed to until I was in college with my Chinese teacher and our classmates, was shi zi tou, or Lion’s Head Meatballs. These are not made with lion meat (um, endangered and exotic), but rather with fatty pork, lean pork, and water chestnuts for crunchy texture. I made both of these dishes today for a mini ode to my Shanghainese Chinese teacher for my first two years of college. She not only taught me Mandarin Chinese language and more Chinese culture, but she was also responsible for giving me exposure to Shanghainese/Jiangnan style Chinese food, which was severely lacking in San Francisco (and even if it was plentiful, it would have been highly unlikely my very biased Cantonese family would have wanted to patronize those places).

You could spend your entire life learning about and making different Chinese dishes and likely never stop your learning. I’m happy to keep making “new” dishes for our home to ensure that Kaia is exposed to an endless variety of foods.

Greenpoint – where all these cute little Japanese spots are popping up

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About three years ago, a spot called Dashi Okume opened in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. It was a place that aimed to be the only custom-made dashi place in New York City, if not the U.S. Okume is originally a dry goods wholesaler at the Tokyo Central Wholesale Market; it was founded in 1971, so it has a long history of creating “delicious food forever.” Okume has a restaurant component, as well as multiple Japanese-owned businesses in a large, warehouse-like shared space. Japanese toasters and electronics, ceramics, and skin/haircare are here. You can even buy fancy (and insanely sharp!) Japanese knives here. I’d been wanting to come here for a while, but I finally made it here yesterday after some time with Kaia at Space Club and lunch at Wen Wen.

As soon as we walked into Dashi Okume, I felt a bit intimidated. You see bins and bins of different dried fish and seafood, multiple varieties of kelp/kombu/seaweed, dried vegetables, and mushrooms. By weight, you have an assistant help you select which ones you want for your custom dashi, and once you are done, they take all the dried pieces into a combined basket and dump it all into this huge, industrial-sized grinder. It shreds everything into small pieces, then portions out your dried dashi into 15 or 30 different perfectly portioned bags. Each bag yields about 300ml of “first dashi” stock, which you can then reboil and make second or third dashi if you so wish for a slightly more diluted dashi.

I couldn’t really deal with this during my first visit; it seemed like too much to choose with not enough background on proportions for dashi creation. I am no Japanese food or dashi expert. So, instead, I went to sip tastes of their already-created dashi. They had about five different types. You can self serve samples, all piping hot. Who would not enjoy having free tastes of fancy, ready-made dashi?! Even if you didn’t care to cook, the taste testing here would be fun and delicious. Predictably, I ended up getting a pack of 15 bags of their premium dashi, which was very seafoody, umami, and potent.

New York City is a hard place to get bored in. It seems like every neighborhood has something fun like this to discover. I love finding and enjoying new things and places in my adopted home.

Mandoline sliced something other than zucchini today

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Today was Father’s Day, and I thought it would be a good occasion to put together a cohesive meal. Most of the time when I am making food, I am thinking in singular dishes or about how many vegetables I need to prepare. Since Kaia was born, the only times I’ve really prepared a cohesive menu are when we’ve had guests over. But I really do want to change that because I prefer it when dishes are supposed to go together. So today, I made kimchi soondubu jigae (Korean kimchi soft tofu soup) with pork ribs, japchae (Korean glass noodles with vegetables), bindaetteok (Korean kimchi mung bean pancakes), rice, and three different types of banchan: soy bean sprout salad, marinated spinach, and zucchini.

For the zucchini banchan, I decided to whip out the mandoline Chris got me during the pandemic. Honestly, I haven’t used it too many times because I am a little terrified of it. I have a mandoline section on my box grater, but I’d only ever used it a few times and didn’t really trust it (it seemed too dull, which would beg for more pressure, which is dangerous!).

The few times I’ve used the mandoline setting, I was very deliberate with each slice. I watched each cut go through. I was always determined to never get cut by it… Until today, when I finally got cut by it. I was talking to Chris. Kaia was making a ruckus nearby, and I was very clearly distracted. I kept slicing the zucchini until it got way too close to my fingers, and SLICE! A huge section of the side of my right thumb got cut off. The blood was literally getting everywhere. I was dripping blood and leaving small puddles on the counter and floor. It took almost an hour and endless tissue, gauze, and paper towels to stop the bleeding, along with applying pressure and ice. I’d never cut myself this deeply before.

Luckily, I don’t think I cut any nerve or tendon, but it’s been pretty uncomfortable. The few times I’ve knocked myself in that spot, it hurts like hell. I’ve been doing my best to not use my right thumb, which is obviously hard. But it’s so painful when something even taps it. I have a feeling this will be the worst kitchen wound I have had to date. My friend, who also cooks often, was marveling that this was just my first mandoline cut (it’s a VERY common kitchen injury!). She even educated me on “finger condoms” (today, I learned…) and how I may want to get some to protect myself from similar injuries in the future.

Next time, when I am brave enough to take out the mandoline again, I will not talk to anyone or have my child near me. I will need to be 120 percent focused. Wounds like these are not fun at all, and even typing this feels odd because I am trying to avoid using a thumb to type…