Bubble tea has come a long way since… well, I first heard about it. A lot of tea shops have taken shortcuts on how to make the tea, so instead of freshly brewing real tea, they will instead use cheap powders loaded with artificial flavors, colors, and excessive sugar, then charge you $5-7 for a low quality drink.

The good news is that while many shops have done this, a good number of other shops are doing the opposite. These shops are the ones that use fresh, seasonal fruit, make their own in-house tapioca balls, among other treats like grass jelly, lychee jelly, and pudding, use fresh milk (dairy and non-dairy versions), and freshly brew tea every single day. One of my and Chris’s favorite variations of bubble tea is fresh taro bubble tea, and I mean the REAL taro: the ones that use real, fresh taro paste and mix or blend it into the milk or tea, along with the tapioca balls or the jelly. Chris’s preference is pudding on the bottom, and I will take any and all of the above if there is fresh taro paste involved.

Since Chris’s cousin’s daughter is a big fan of taro, and I happened to see taro at a good price at the Chinese market while in Elmhurst last Friday, I decided to buy some to make homemade taro milk. At this time of year, taro isn’t actually in season and because of that, tends to be more on the pale white side in terms of color. The color of taro tends to vary: sometimes, it can be a nice purple color after steaming or boiling. Other times, it can be a pale purple or grey, and many times even just white or off white. After steaming my little taros today, they really didn’t turn any shade of purple at all like they do in the winter time. So in order to add color without using artificial flavoring (because at the end of the day, we all do eat with our eyes first, and the color of taro matters because people associate taro with the color purple), a lot of shops will add some purple yam or mashed ube and mix it into their taro paste. And that’s what I’m doing today for fresh taro milk!

As long as I’ve been baking, I’ve made endless different recipes of pumpkin bread. For many years since college, I used the recipe from my resident advisor from my sophomore year dorm, who was so kind and generous as to regularly make pumpkin bread, pumpkin ice cream, and other fall treats for the residents of our hall. But of course, I got curious to try and tweak many other recipes I’ve stumbled upon. And since, I’ve settled on a variation of Smitten Kitchen’s pumpkin bread, which uses an entire 15-ounce can of pumpkin puree and is topped with cinnamon sugar to create a decadent and crunchy “lid” on top. Quick breads like pumpkin or banana bread are so easy and quick to make that I rarely think of them as special or “occasion” bakes. They just seem like the type of thing you’d bake up when you wanted to have some decadent treat, but you didn’t want to put too much time, effort, or thought into something homemade. It’s the no-brainer crowd pleaser. And I always use coconut oil in place of vegetable oil, as I find that coconut oil keeps the bread more moist for much longer.

As last Christmas was the first Christmas we’d gone back to Australia with Kaia baby in tow (plus, I was still pumping!), I really did not want to spend that much time cooking or baking anything. So I found that I had left a can of pumpkin in Chris’s parents’ cupboard from the last time we were there (in 2019!), and then decided to use it for this same Smitten pumpkin bread. Thank goodness for the pumpkin being canned, so I knew it was still good to use! I didn’t think anything of it — I quickly whipped up the batter, poured it into an oiled loaf pan, put it in the oven, baked it for 65 minutes, and out it came. I didn’t even remember to bother with the cinnamon sugar topping. We brought it as a dessert for Boxing Day, and I couldn’t believe how many of Chris’s relatives raved about it. Even the young kids enjoyed it and kept coming back for more. Chris’s cousin, who is visiting this week, was totally obsessed with it. He kept coming up to me to compliment how good it was and said it was the best pumpkin cake he’d ever had. He even reminded me how much he liked it in the lead up to this visit, so I figured I’d indulge him and make the bread for this visit. So I made it this afternoon for him and his daughter to enjoy for the remainder of their trip.

Times like this are always a gentle reminder that while I may want to make something that looks fancy, has “different” flavors or textures, or has many elements or nuances of flavor, that the average person really doesn’t care for all that fussiness or hoopla; most people are satisfied by the simplest treats and desserts, the ones that are not fancy or expensive but are simply delicious and make you happy. In the end, the lemon bars, brownies, chocolate chip cookies, and pumpkin bread will still win everyone’s hearts.

In cooking forums and groups all over the internet, everyone always has the same question over and over again: what’s the best nonstick pan for X or overall? And the answer that someone will inevitably give, multiple times over, is: Cast iron! Carbon Steel! If you season them properly, then they will always be perfectly nonstick!

The problem, though, is “seasoning” can seem very bewildering to someone who is not used to this type of cookware. “Seasoning” really means ensuring that the pan always has a nice coat of fat on it to keep it slick. This means that the more you cook with it and have some sort of oil, butter, or animal fat on it, the more “seasoned” the pan will become. I’ve mostly used my big cast iron pan for roasting chicken, but I’ve shied away from using it for everyday cooking out of fear that things will stick. Well, I finally tested its nonstick quality yesterday morning when I made a butternut squash, kale, and goat cheese frittata: I sautéed my aromatics, tossed in my pre-cooked kale and butternut squash, added in the eggs, and baked the frittata in the cast iron pan in the oven for about 10 minutes. When I popped it out to cool and loosened the edges, I was pleasantly surprised to see how easily the frittata released. And when I finally used my flat spatula and pushed it onto my cutting board to serve, I felt so much glee at the frittata easily sliding off the cast iron pan, right onto the cutting board. IT DID NOT RESIST OR STICK AT ALL.

I was so happy about this for at least the next few hours that all I could think was: my cast iron pan is well seasoned! It tolerated the frittata! WHOPPEEE!!!! It seems like such a simple thing, but I suppose that is where it’s important to find joy — in the little things in life like a well-seasoned cast iron pan that allows your frittata to release without problem!

On Thursday night, after finding out that yet another packet of dry active yeast was still alive, I finally decided to carry out a goal of mine since maybe five years ago: baking no-knead brioche. Funnily enough, as much as I adore brioche and think it’s likely one of the top five best breads on earth, I haven’t made it since 2012. Yep, that’s right: that means it’s been ELEVEN YEARS since I last made this incredible, ethereal buttery bread. Back then, I made brioche the “old fashioned” way, which meant making sure that literally everything, from the bowl, the counter, the spatula, the utensils, EVERYTHING was super cold. The idea is that to make a really luscious, buttery, almost flaky brioche, you need to allow the butter never to fully melt, otherwise the dough would just get far too sticky, which means you couldn’t knead it without making a total mess. This would THEN require you to add more flour… meaning you’d eventually just get a glorified challah. To be clear, I am in no way knocking challah because challah also ranks quite high up there for one of my favorite breads, but brioche is just not challah, and challah is not brioche.

So when I heard about America’s Test Kitchen’s innovative version that would remove the kneading completely, I was floored. No kneading? How is that even possible? What else is blasphemous about this — it uses MELTED butter as opposed to ice cold butter.

Of course, since the ATK version came out, many others have modified it and made it… a little healthier to say the least. The version of the recipe I used uses two sticks of butter for two standard sized loaf pans, which, if you can imagine without chuckling, is actually considered LIGHT for brioche, especially in comparison with ATK’s original recipe, which uses far more butter. And instead of kneading the dough (with melted butter, which is still very shocking to me as someone who has only ever made brioche the traditional way), you “fold” the dough from bottom to top several times over the course of about two hours. As each 30 minute period passes, the dough becomes easier to work with, more pliable, and slightly less sticky.

Well, I made the original dough on Thursday night. I let it proof in the fridge for almost two days. And today, we came home early from our Saturday outing so I could shape my loaves and bake. And WOW – I am never going back to the traditional method of brioche ever again: The brioche proofed beautifully and baked up with this gorgeous brown shade, almost flaky on the top. And the crumb was moist, buttery, spongy, and perfect…. If I do say so myself. This recipe is definitely a keeper, and I’ll take folded brioche over kneaded brioche any day now!!!!

Kneading dough is a really good feeling. When you have any stress or aggression, it’s a really great, active way to let all that tension go. The last time I made focaccia, I had used my sourdough starter in May 2020 and was just blown away (very humble, I know) by how good it turned out. It rose evenly and beautifully. It had these little perfect dimples at even intersections. It even pillowed on the top and made for great photographs. I also remember it tasted delicious, too: a little nutty, complex, and herby from the rosemary. That loaf had just the right amount of olive oil, too, so that it wasn’t too lean, but it wasn’t at at greasy. I served it with honey ricotta and was just glowing for days about it.

Well, this one turned out okay, but it was nothing compared to that one. This one came out a little flat. It didn’t rise evenly. The flavor was very one dimensional. I also felt it could use a bit more fat from more olive oil, but I had already tripled the amount of oil from the recipe because of all the comments. Unfortunately, my quick pick wasn’t the best pick. I will be more conservative choosing recipes from the New York Times cooking app now, knowing that the reviews were quite accurate with the end result.

Baking bread has always been a passion of mine. While I did attempt the sourdough path during the height of the pandemic in 2020, I quickly realized that it just wasn’t for me. Although tending to a sourdough starter for 15 minutes a day is not really a huge ask, what WAS a big ask for me was to constantly remove or even (gasp) discard starter. I am very anti food waste, so discarding was completely out of the question. Instead, I would always hasten to figure out yet another way to use sourdough starter discard, and eventually, it just got really tiring. I didn’t always want to make or eat bread. I didn’t always want to be fiddling in the kitchen. Sometimes, I just want to make bread and be done with it. And that’s where yeast packets are really handy: I can make my own recipe, get excited at the yeast being alive and growing, bake, and then be done!

Two years ago when I was very pregnant, I went a little nuts at Trader Joe’s and stocked up on six dry active yeast packets. I had this (extremely naive) thought that during my maternity leave, I would knead and bake bread while Kaia Pookie napped. Well, that never happened during maternity leave. In fact, I have not baked any bread since literally this time two years ago! The last thing I remember making was hot dog bao and freezing them to eat while recovering from giving birth. Boy, was our freezer stocked with homemade goodies!

Well, the expiration date on the packets said November 2022. It made me a little sad, but hey, many times expiration dates are not accurate. So I tested one packet of yeast with some warm water and sugar. Ten minutes later, it bubbled and grew large, so I knew it was still good to use! So I decided to make something quick with little fuss: focaccia. I chose a focaccia recipe on the New York Times cooking app that would also include some whole wheat (we have to be healthy sometimes, right?), and hoped for the best. I’m planning to make it as part of our breakfast on Sunday morning, so it will have two days in the fridge to develop flavor, so we shall see how it turns out.

One of the greatest things about working from home is the level of flexibility I have, plus the extra time I have to do things that is *not* spent on commuting. When I’m working from home, it’s easy for me to take breaks by stretching my body out, doing wrist/elbow exercises with small weights to keep my mild carpal/cubital tunnel in check, and even do meal prep for dinner. This Monday, I had only a couple meetings in the early afternoon, so before I started my work day, I popped a six-pound pork shoulder into the oven at 300 F to slow roast for the next six hours. It would be ready just in time for dinner after I’d bring Pookster home from school. I’d periodically take a peek in the oven to see how it was doing, but other than that, it was pretty hands off, as the oven does all the work: that’s the beauty of “low and slow” with the oven or the Instant Pot, my most preferred ways of preparing weeknight meals.

Yesterday, I had already brined the pork shoulder, plus prepared two sauces: one ginger scallion sauce, and one ssam sauce (a mix of dwenjang, gochuchang, oil, vinegar, and honey). So once the bo ssam was ready, I just had to let it rest and cool, cut it, and then wash lettuce leaves to wrap.

Now, we have pork and sauces to eat the rest of the week. It’s a pretty good homemade meal week for us.

Summer ending can feel sad — once Labor Day arrives and we’re in September, it feels like the warm, jacket-less days are becoming numbered. I love summer weather when all I have to do is throw on a dress or shorts, and I don’t have to worry about layers.

But like with every year I’ve been in New York, I do get excited about September coming. I always look forward to all the autumn/winter squash, like butternut, buttercup, and kabocha (!). While zucchini is fine, and I tolerated yellow squash last summer because Pookster loved it so much, I’ve never been a huge summer squash person. I also love the pumpkin flavored things that come out everywhere, especially at Trader Joe’s. I look forward to stocking up on all my cans of Trader Joe’s organic canned pumpkin, plus seeing what new pumpkin products they have (and yes, I do check to see whether they actually have pumpkin in them). This past weekend, I picked up my first butternut squash for the season. And yesterday, I asked Chris to pick up yet another one since they were on sale at Whole Foods. I am looking forward to buying even more as the month progresses, and more varieties of squash become available.

A colleague asked me, referencing the squash in the background of my apple cider donuts picture from yesterday, if my background with all that squash (seriously, there were just two!!) and apples was real, or a photo board. I told her that yes, all the food, both in the foreground and background, were real. Why would they not be…?!

“Wow! How can you have that much squash at your house!” she exclaimed.

How…? I responded, a bit confused. How… not at this time of year?

When I was growing up, we enjoyed regular meals out as a wider family, with my grandma, aunt, uncle, and three cousins who lived upstairs from us. The meals were always at the latest Cantonese restaurant somewhere in the Richmond District of San Francisco that my grandma deemed “the best” at the time for Cantonese Chinese food. When I started getting into my tweens and teen years, my aunt always insisted that “the kids” have a voice when ordering. And because I loved eggplant, I would request it as soon as I was asked. So my aunt always made sure that there was some tofu dish and some eggplant dish at the table especially for me.

The thing I found funny, though, was my aunt used to say that I always wanted to eat “healthy foods.” Little did any of us know back then that the Chinese preparation for eggplant was really anything but healthy: to get that silky smooth, buttery, luscious texture in each bite of eggplant, the eggplant actually needs to be deep fried. After deep frying, it’s then lightly stir fried in a sauce that is known as “yu xiang” or “fish fragrant,” with a chili bean paste that is characteristic of Sichuanese cooking. Even the Cantonese restaurants do it this way, just with perhaps a different version of chili bean paste. Then, it’s served, glistening, silky, smooth, and with the eggplant skin nice, bright, and purple.

Both my mom and aunt tried replicating this at home by simply sauteing the eggplant. It never worked: the eggplant texture was always squishy instead of silky smooth; the eggplant skin would turn from bright purple to this sad, miserable brown color. When I moved out and started cooking on my own, I tried doing things like steaming (tasty, but again, not the same. Plus, in a stir-fry it would totally fall apart into mush) or roasting/broiling (good, but again, wouldn’t stay in tact). But finally, I decided after my corn and coconut fritters worked with some shallow frying that it was finally time to shallow fry eggplant. I wasn’t doing it totally traditionally: I wasn’t deep frying the eggplant. I was soaking the pieces in a salt water mixture to a) remove any bitterness and b) prevent the eggplant from soaking up too much oil, which I didn’t want. I shallow fried the eggplant in my Instant Pot for 4 minutes per batch, drained on a towel, and lightly stir fried. And I was totally floored… if I can even say that about something I cooked myself: it really tasted and looked restaurant quality. The eggplant pieces remained in tact and the skins were bright purple and glistening. Each bite was addictive, super luscious in the mouth. And the sauce was perfect — not too spicy but very savory. Kaia enjoyed the sauce, too, but kept smushing the eggplant itself in her hands…

For health reasons, I probably won’t be making yu xiang qiezi that often at home. I also don’t love shallow frying because even if it’s not deep frying, it’s still way more oil than I am used to cooking with. But I had a deep satisfaction in knowing I faced my fear with frying eggplant and can easily replicate this when I’d like in the future… pretty much anytime. It really was delicious and made me feel proud.