Category Archives: Culture

Two rainy Saturdays in a row going out

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Last Saturday and today mark two Saturdays in a row this summer where we’ve seen grey skies and rain. Today’s weather was far worse than last Saturday, though: while last Saturday, it was drizzly, a little more, and grey, it was still warm. Today, however, was much cooler (I actually heard people shivering on the street and complaining how cold it was while wearing hoodies!), and the rain seemed a bit harder and more steady. My friend remarked last week that he was surprised we even went out given the weather. I laughed and told him that was silly. A little drizzly wetness was not going to prevent us from going out on a Saturday. The mere thought seemed ridiculous. We were not going to die once rain water touched us!

But the thing is – that’s how a lot of people feel about the rain. And it’s sad when you think about it. Why are you going to let a little sprinkle keep you home bound for an entire day? Are we really that delicate as a species?! It’s like you’re just letting life pass you by because of some subpar weather, which just seems a bit pathetic unless you are in poor health. Last Saturday, we were in Fort Greene, Brooklyn. Today, we were in Ditmars, Queens. While in Ditmars, we went to a popular Greek restaurant that usually has a wait of anywhere from one to two hours. Given the rain, they had zero wait, so we were seated right away. People deciding not to be out today due to the rain benefited us, so I wasn’t going to complain about that. But just the thought that people change plans just based on a little rain really sat with me throughout the day.

I suppose this thought relates to how i’ve been thinking about spending my time more intentionally, and part of that means spending less time on my phone looking at things that don’t matter (ahem, scrolling Instagram or Facebook or Reddit endlessly and staying the hell off of TikTok), reading news that I actually do want to read, and not feeling compelled to respond to non-urgent text messages right away. I don’t want some stupid social media platform or my phone having control over my time and life. So why should anyone let a little bad weather control their life, as well? Go out, do what you wanted to do, see who you want to see, carry an umbrella, wear rain boots or a raincoat, and live your life, for god’s sake!

An evening of burlesque at The Slipper Room

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A friend of mine has spent years and years raving about how much he loves burlesque shows and specifically, how he loves the Slipper Room in the Lower East Side for their burlesque. I have only seen caricatures or snippets of burlesque over the years, and I’d never been to a proper burlesque show in my life. But I figured, hey, I should do this at least once to see if I like it. I am living in the capital of entertainment and live performances/theater, so what better place than where I currently call home to go see this? I always think (and say) that if you live in New York City but do not take advantage of the live theater, entertainment, music scene, or the vast array of cuisines and restaurants, then why are you even living here to begin with? I decided to go last night with my friend to check this place out.

The venue was very cozy. After we checked in, we went into the main stage area to see a few seats that were reserved, plus mostly standing room. Unfortunately, my friend messed up the reservations, so while he intended on getting us reserved seats, we had to stand for about half the time. This ended up being fine in the end because he was keeping watch on the open seats, and since he’s a regular here, one of the guys manning the seats offered us a table right by the stage halfway through the show. The host of the evening, who my friend says is his favorite, was most definitely the highlight of the night. He made fun of a lot of people and things about the crowd (“an all white audience yet again? Oh, what a surprise!”), he offered for audience members to come up and do provocative or funny things, and he infused a lot of humor throughout. There were three main performers during our show who were rotating in their theme or portrayal. The third person, a female, definitely stood out with how flexible she was; I kept looking at her and wondering how people can actually contort their bodies in every which way without completely injuring themselves. I have more yoga goals now as a result of this. Predictably, there was a lot of teasing of nudity, which I personally do not get that excited about, but I can see how others find that to be an actual “tease.”

Now that I’ve gone once, I can mentally tick this off my list of types of live performances I have seen. But in all honesty, I definitely prefer live comedy, music, or actual theater (Broadway or off-off) far more than I liked this burlesque show.

Yibin Fresh-Chili Beef Noodles (Shengjiao Niurou Mian, 生椒牛肉面)

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My understanding of regional Chinese cooking has grown exponentially since my college years, when I finally learned Mandarin Chinese, how to read and write (just enough) Chinese, and when I finally started exploring more of my own (well, half) culture in depth. The truth is that as most Chinese scholars will note, you can spend your entire life studying the various regional cuisines of China, and you will barely touch the surface of it. Even when you think you know everything there is to know, some town, some city, some person or family will shock you and show you something you never even knew existed. Reading about Chinese cuisine and the endless dishes and methods through the eyes of Fuchsia Dunlop also felt a bit life changing for me (I could read her writing about Chinese cuisine and culture until the end of time). As someone who identifies as half Cantonese, I still cannot believe all the things I am learning about Cantonese cuisine. For example, it wasn’t until about seven years ago when I learned that Chaozhou (or Teochew) cuisine is considered a branch of Cantonese cuisine, known for light, fresh flavors, and arguably being one of the first cultures of the world that started eating raw fish (as it has been made famous by the Japanese today).

When the Dipshit Administration announced a couple months ago that massive tariffs were going to hit a lot of our imported goods, I went into a slight panic and went onto Mala Market’s website to purchase a bunch of premium quality Sichuanese products. This included a family of regional Chinese black vinegars, various types of Sichuanese peppercorns, a premium aged Chinese soy sauce, and some alkaline (jian shui) dried noodles. The Mala Market website is amazing — it is so informative and well researched. They not only give you a thorough background on the products they sell and how they were produced, but they also share the history of the overall products (e.g. how was soy sauce first made? What’s the history behind black rice vinegar? How did different versions come about?), and also have a pretty legitimate recipes section that cheekily notes, ‘Proceed at your own risk’). Through their website, I started learning about other regional, city-specific dishes in Sichuan and decided to start trying the recipes out.

Today, I made Yibin fresh chili beef noodles from their site. Yibin is a prefecture-level city in the southeastern part of Sichuan province, about 260 kilometers away from Chengdu. It is known for being a historical source for salt, as well as having a large pepper mill. They also produce bai jiu, or a distilled hard liquor. The noodle dish has four main components: the wheat noodles (in this case, noodles that due to being produced in an alkaline lye water, are naturally colored yellow), the noodle sauce, the saucy minced beef topping, and the fresh accompaniments (freshly chopped cilantro and red peppers). Like many very delicious Sichuanese dishes, this really needs to be assembled to order and eaten immediately. So I got all the components ready and then tossed them in individual portions in a large bowl and served them for dinner. And it was so, so good. The hot and numbing feeling of the just ground Sichuanese peppercorns was super tingly and spicy. The noodles had a perfect al dente chewy texture. And the entire dish just brought me back to our Chengdu trip, where we ate extremely, extremely well. I love and miss the mian guans (noodle houses) that we visited and where we ate copious amounts of delicious food.

I might not be able to go back to Sichuan that quickly or easily, but I have all my Mala Market ingredients to take me there via my noodle bowl at home when I please now. I’m so happy I finally made a big purchase from them this year! Every penny was beyond worth it, even if the prices aren’t cheap. You get what you pay for!

Increased time spent online vs. with loved ones

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Several days ago, my mother-in-law sent a moving image that depicted the years moving forward and how retired people spend their time. It has categories that you would expect: volunteer work, hobbies, travel, part-time work, spending time with family, friends, and loved ones, etc. The point that she implied was disturbing is that as time moved forward into today’s era, the time spent with family/friends had decreased significantly, and instead, the top place for “time spent” was “online.” That could mean one’s mobile device or computer or tablet. The medium didn’t matter; it was the fact that they were online in front of some screen as the majority of time spent while retired. This made me think about how much time Chris’s dad spends going down Wikipedia rabbit holes when he learns of something he’s unaware of but wants to know more about (and then, I am sure, immediately forgets after he closes out the page). It made me think about my own dad and how he dangerously spends too much time on YouTube watching user-created content made by users who are likely factless and data-less. It also made me think about how my mother-in-law, ironically enough, spends a decent amount of time scrolling through her Instagram and Facebook feeds and watching way too many pointless videos that are sent via her various Whatsapp college alumni and family groups.

I responded and said, none of that was very surprising. Everyone in this chat is addicted to their own devices, so we’re just examples of what the data is showing.

Then, I thought about my friend who semi-recently gave up social media. We used to interact a lot with each other over Instagram, but she said she had to give it up because she spent way too much time doom-scrolling and wasting time on it. Now that she’s almost six months free of it, she feels more liberated than ever. She spends more time meditating, reading things she actually wants to read, and thinking about productive things she wants to do in her future. She never has to look back at her day and wonder where the hell all that time went and how it got wasted.

I was thinking about this and decided that I need to be more intentional with the time spent on my phone. I can’t control that I have to be online for work during work hours. But I can control how I use my phone and for what when it’s non-work hours and days. I really should stop doing what Hari Kondabalu joked about at his show last week, which is falling for “your phone beckoning you,” and immediately looking up something that “bothers” you or that comes to mind that you just absolutely need to know in that very second. Chris does this all the time, too. It’s a terrible phone addiction. Chances are high that it wasn’t that important, anyway, so why do you feel so compelled to immediately go online and look it up? Instead, I am spending more time with my phone in another room. I do not respond to texts right away unless they are urgent (surprise: none have been), and instead, I respond to them in groups at a time. I am also being more intentional about how much time I spend on certain apps and when I use them. After three days of doing this, I already feel mentally better and like my intentions with the world are better. I do not want to be one of those people who is addicted to their phone. And I definitely do not want my child to think that I rather spend time on my phone than be present with her.

Pit stop at a Phil-Am Market to the Staten Island Ferry serves as inspiration for bread making

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After my friend’s baby shower yesterday, I helped with some relatives and another friend to load and off-load gifts and baby items back at their house. Since her friend had a car and was driving back to Brooklyn, she offered to take me to the ferry terminal so that my friend’s boyfriend didn’t have to drive me. The caveat, she said, was that she hoped it would be okay to first stop at a Filipino market on the island before dropping me off at the ferry terminal.

My friend looked directly at me and smiled since she knew what my reaction would be. “Ummm, YES; I would love that pit stop first! I’m coming in with you!” I exclaimed.

My friend’s friend went in to pick up Filipino groceries as well as takeout (they have a prepared foods section) to bring home to her family. I picked up the pancit, which she also got and recommended, a tray of kare kare (this delicious Filipino oxtail / beef peanut stew), and a bowl of ube halo halo. And while I was perusing the packaged goods aisle, I was beyond ecstatic to find dehydrated ube powder; this was the ingredient I wanted to use to make ube pandesal, but I hadn’t been able to source it at an Asian market until now! This was likely the one item I got from this place that made this trip to the market a thousand percent worth it.

As soon as I got home, I started looking up recipes for ube pandesal. A year and a half ago, I made classic Filipino pandesal bread buns and really enjoyed how simple they were to make, as well as how comforting the flavor was. My next step in my mind was to make the ube version. There are ube pandesal recipes that call for frozen mashed ube, but it seemed like based on the recipes I found that dehydrated ube powder was the most common and preferred way. I also love this packet of dehydrated ube powder I got because there are zero additives in it: it’s 100 percent ube powder with nothing else – no stabilizers, no artificial coloring, no weird thickeners, nada! I had a strong urge when I boarded the ferry back to Manhattan to make bread this weekend.

I decided I’d do the bread recipe that was on the top of my to-make list ahead of my ube pandesal urge, though, which was King Arthur’s big, bubbly focaccia. I started the dough this afternoon, did some pulls and dough turns to develop gluten, and then will let it bubble, grow, and ferment overnight for additional flavor before baking it tomorrow.

This visit to the Phil-Am Market really got me excited to want to make bread again – this was an unintended, unexpected effect of visiting a Filipino grocery store on Staten Island. And now, I have both dry active yeast and instant yeast, so I don’t have to do any conversions for yeast types or worry about whether something will fail based on the yeast type I’ve chosen!

Little delicious gems all around us in Manhattan

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On our Saturday adventures out as a family, Chris always seems a bit biased against Manhattan at or below Central Park and tends to prefer to visit the Bronx, Brooklyn, or Queens. I’m happy to go to all three of those boroughs, especially Queens since it was my first New York City borough, but we live in Manhattan, and it’s damn amazing for endless reasons. Even in Manhattan, on streets that you may go up and down every single day, amazing gems can show up right under your nose that you may overlook in your speed walking and desire to catch a train in time.

When I went down to the Koreatown area for a routine doctor’s appointment yesterday, I was walking along a street and suddenly got a strong whiff of ground matcha. Curious, I backed up a few feet, noticing a tiny little cafe that required a few steps up. I popped my head in, and as soon as I opened the door, an extremely strong scent of matcha almost blasted my face. It smelled as though they ground the matcha leaves fresh in this little cafe! The place was barely marked; I later found out that it was called Mika’s Direction. I quickly bookmarked it in my Google Maps saved list, went to my appointment, and came back to sit there and read before heading downtown to pick up Pookster from school. I ordered the favorite drink, the iced strawberry matcha. The same person who rang me up made my drink from scratch in front of me at the open counter, meticulously whisked my matcha, and poured the frothy goodness into my cup. The house-made strawberry syrup was mashed and just sweet enough. The matcha was earthy with a tiny hint of bitter. This was a really well made and delicious treat after my doctor’s visit. I savored my drink as I read my book for a bit.

I love stumbling upon these cute little cafes, bakeries, and restaurants by chance in my own borough. I never had this spot on a list or knew about it before I left home. Even if I didn’t originally set out to find a matcha spot on this outing, I found a delicious and obscure one in an unlikely place. I can still smell the intensity of freshly ground matcha wafting all around me. There are many things out there for us to find and taste as long as we are open minded enough to see and try them.

Indo Java Indonesian Grocery Store in Elmhurst, Queens

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Today, we spent the day exploring Elmhurst, Queens, my original neighborhood that I lived in when I first moved to New York City back in June 2008. Elmhurst has changed quite a lot since then: modern, new rental and condominium buildings have gone up. Fancier restaurants and even bars have opened up. More and more working professionals who work in Manhattan are moving in. And of course, all that means more gentrification and higher rental and buying costs here. The neighborhood has historically been a mix of working class Asian, Hispanic, and various White immigrants. Every time I go back now, it seems to be skewing more and more Asian. And with that, more Chinese, Filipino, Indonesian, and Taiwanese restaurants and businesses seem to be popping up.

Today, we went back to Indo Java Indonesian Grocery Store right on Queens Boulevard, just minutes walk from my old apartment. This time, it was full of all the goodies that made it so loved amongst immigrant Indonesians: an entire table FULL of Indonesian savory and sweet snacks and desserts, all made by the grocery store staff at a nearby offsite location. And as soon as I saw the table, I felt decision paralysis: so many interesting, delicious things to choose from, but what would I buy? They had lots of fried and steamed snacks, entire half pandan chiffon cakes, and a seemingly endless assortment of different kuih, or steamed Indonesian finger-sized cakes and sweets. In the end, I chose the wajik, a jackfruit/palm sugar/glutinous rice mini cake, plus talam ubi, or a two-layered coconut-sweet potato cake infused with pandan. I had a quick chat with the owner, who rung my items up, and she told me that she always gets excited when non-Indonesians (like me) find her store and get into their products. She also told me about their special Indonesian home cooking meals served on select days of the week, announced slightly in advance on their Instagram handle. It looks like they only started this in 2016, so four years after I left the area. It made me sad I didn’t live closer to this deliciousness.

Indonesia is one of the most populous countries on earth, and their cuisine is ultra diverse and so delicious with its endless herbs, spices, and flavors. Sometimes, I forget how delicious it is, especially since Elmhurst seems to be the only area in all of New York City where Indonesian food exists. Now, I feel like I need to go back when they have their chefs do special meals at the grocery store on Tuesdays, Thursdays, or Sundays, just to remember how multifaceted, spicy, and delicious the cuisine is.

Lincoln Center Annual Summer in the City pay-what-you-wish performances – super competitive this year!

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Since I’ve attended a number of Lincoln Center performances over the years, including ones in recent times that are kid-focused, I am on their email list and get notifications about upcoming events and festivals. Last year, I attended two different orchestra performances for their recent annual Summer in the City series of performances, and I knew I wanted to check out the performance line-up for this year and attend a few more. This year, I got the notification they’d be doing it again this summer, and it would be even more varied. This summer, they would have a really interesting mix of orchestra, opera, theater, and dance. I asked a few friends if they’d like to join, and so I was able to get tickets for two different performances so far.

Alas, the pay-what-you-wish performance ticket purchasing wasn’t as simple as it was in 2024. I still remember that I was able to buy tickets a week or so after, and I had my pick of seats to choose from. This time, when I logged into their site just minutes after General Admission opened up, there was already an online queue! When I got in, I was person 367 on the list, and they gave me an estimated wait time of over 40 minutes before I’d be able to go in and choose seats for a specific performance. One of the performance dates I wanted had already sold out by the time I got in, and it asked me to choose a different date. Luckily, the friend who wanted to go with me to see this modern opera was flexible, so we ended up choosing a date two days later.

Free or low-cost events certainly do exist in New York City; they are actually quite plentiful if you know where and how to look. You just have to be ready to deal with the crowds, even if some of those “crowds” can be virtual. I actually prefer the online queue versus waiting hours on end in a real, physical line for admittance or for a performance to start. It’s a lot less hectic this way!

La Morada – Indigenous Mexican and Oaxacan cuisine in the Bronx

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During the pandemic, Chris and I walked through the South Bronx and attempted to go eat at La Morada, a Oaxacan restaurant that is not only known for serving indigenous Mexican cuisine, but also feeds those in need through The Mutual Aid Kitchen. But alas, we were out of luck: they were actually closed on the Saturday we went. At that time, they were open only during the weekdays. We were able to come back today and enjoy some very chocolatey and slightly spicy mole poblano with the most delicious oven roasted chicken, rice (which was likely cooked in chicken broth, and luxurious black beans. We enjoyed it with a jamaica drink (hibiscus tea) and ended with a proper Mexican hot chocolate. Marco served us; his mom is the chef and owner. It was a warm, homely family-run and owned restaurant. And they were so warm and kind serving us and answering any and all of our questions. Everything about the place took me back to Oaxaca, from the decor on the walls to the open kitchen to even the plates and bowls our food was served in. Unfortunately for Kaia, she didn’t get to enjoy any of the food since she had passed out right before we arrived at the restaurant.

I later read more about La Morada and found out that their family actually has undocumented status, yet they are still so resilient, run their own business, feed those in need, and run a community garden, where they actually source a lot of their own vegetables and fruit. I found it shocking that they’d be so open about this, especially now with the current political climate. But it’s clear that they have guts and perseverance. It almost makes me want to go up there more often just to support them — and eat through their delicious menu, which I’m sure pretty much no other place in New York could replicate, and definitely not at their price points.

New Yorkers hate on New Jersey; New Jersey people hate on New Yorkers

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I have a friend who is originally from Texas, but moved to New Jersey when she was in high school and has been there ever since. She’s the only person I know who lives in New Jersey and regularly and proactively loves coming into New York City; everyone else I have met who is New Jersey based (most of whom were born and raised there, as well) avoid New York City completely unless it’s for work; they abhor the mere idea of coming into the city on a weekend or when it’s not for work. She never whines or whinges about coming into the city; she’s always happy to drive in and meet me. In fact, I have only ever seen her in Manhattan; so far, I haven’t gone to Jersey to visit her even once (maybe I am a bad friend, but she doesn’t seem to mind this thus far). No, it’s not just for work, as she is 100 percent remote in her job; it’s because she recognizes that New York City is literally the center of the country (if not the entire universe) for food.

She was hating on New Jersey people the other day and saying how mad she gets with their attitudes of New York City. She said she couldn’t stand how closed minded the average Jersey person was; most of them are born and raised in Jersey and never, ever leave. They don’t even want to go into NEW YORK CITY, she said. How can anyone be against New York City? she lamented. That’s like being against culture, against diversity, against life! She says the only reason she doesn’t live in the city is that she cannot afford it; plus, she’s trying to spend as little money as possible on housing so that she can meet her personal life goal of retiring by the age of 50.

I was shocked when she always wanted to hang out in New York and was so willing to drive to see me. She insisted it was never a big deal; she was used to driving and driving everywhere, so it was just her means to get everywhere. And when I told Chris this, he said it makes sense that she is happy to do this given she’s not originally from New Jersey and is from Texas, where anyone and everyone need a car to get around, and that’s just what life is there.

I thought about this during my day trip to Morristown, New Jersey, today, for a customer meeting. I basically spent all afternoon in a popular suburban town. It has an upscale, small town feel. Before my meetings, I met up with a local colleague who was attending the meetings with me, and we caught up over coffee. This colleague, who I get along with really well, is like one of those New Jersey people that my friend complains about: born and raised in New Jersey and unlikely to ever leave; rarely travels to see new things. He loves to nudge me every time I chat with him and ask when I am moving to New Jersey with my husband and daughter. And I always smile and say the exact same thing:

“Nope, no plans to ever move to New Jersey. I think Chris would much rather die. And I think I agree with him.”