Category Archives: Culture

Being in a real clothing store again – the madness and the new technology!

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I have never enjoyed the process of shopping for clothes — looking, trying on clothes, and well, no one likes paying for clothes. 😀 So when I stopped having friends drag me out on mall or shopping trips, the only way I was going to willingly buy clothing was online. And yes, that was a dream, especially in cases where the stores had either free returns or in-store return policies for clothing bought online. I could buy the clothes online, try them on at home to check for fit and whether they looked right on me, and if they didn’t work out, either drop them in the mail back or return them to a store nearby. The vast majority of all clothing I’ve purchased in the last 16+ years has been online, and I do not miss the in-store shopping process at all. The only times I’ve enjoyed it just a little are when I am traveling internationally and see more unique items, like at one or two shops I like in Australia, or when I’m looking at clothing for Kaia (because baby/toddler girl clothing is always fun to look at).

So in the last couple days, I’ve been seeing some potential summer pieces at Zara online, but their entire online shopping experience… kind of sucks. I was thinking that I probably should stop being so lazy with dressing (this all stems from being 100 percent remote with work) and actually buy clothing I want to wear that looks good and fits well… instead of always wearing all my AFSP volunteer shirts and other things I don’t care much about just for comfort. Especially now that I am probably going to get more involved in Kaia’s elementary school, I should dress up a bit more and try a little.

Zara is good in that they have this nifty option to check for in-store availability closest to you (and so far, it looks pretty accurate), so I found out that two pieces I liked were at their Bryant Park location. So I used that as an excuse to get some extra steps in and walk there before picking up Kaia in Chinatown. I walked in and was immediately reminded of why I hate in-store shopping: the store, despite it being about 4:15pm on a Wednesday, was mobbed. People were speed walking and even running across the store to grab pieces. It felt like a competitive sport being in there! People were rushing to grab items before anyone else claimed them. It was a little insane. Employees were restocking and being bombarded with questions (and some even had lines for people with inquiries). And I just felt a little dizzy navigating all of this and trying to figure out where these two specific items were. I eventually asked an employee, who was super friendly and able to get someone to fetch me the item from their stock room since neither of us saw one of the pieces on the floor (this was very efficient!). I tried one piece on (on the floor out in the open, and not in the fitting room because the line was 20+ people long!); luckily it didn’t require me to undress. And when I went to buy the shirt in the payment area, I simply dropped the item into a bin, which immediately scanned the item for what it was, the size, and the price. I paid by Apple Pay by tapping, was texted the receipt, and that was it! It was just like the buying process at Uniqlo — the only other shop at which I’ve bought in store in the last few years. The “cashier” line was nonexistent, as it’s all self pay with an attendant checking in occasionally.

This is the reality of in-store shopping now that I’m just ignorant to since I rarely shop in person — things are more automated and efficient. There’s less in-person support for payment. The “lining up” doesn’t happen as much anymore. But it also feels more “competitive” to be in store with getting the items you want in the size you need and as quickly as you need them. That’s too tiring for me! The ease of online shopping is just so, so much easier.

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.

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!

“Camp” setup at our San Pedro Sula hotel

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Once Kaia had outgrown a crib and pack-n-play, when traveling, we’d ask the hotels for a roll-away bed for her. All hotels accommodate this, of course, but occasionally, you get a special surprise at some properties.

We stayed at an Aloft hotel in San Pedro Sula. Aloft is known for their Camp Aloft, which encourages kids ages 2-12 to have fun by providing them with their own unique Aloft experience. They call it a “bed in a bag with special treats!” The last time Kaia had something close to a tent experience was when we had the Lovevery “fort” setup, but she quickly outgrew that because that was more for babies and younger toddlers. She’s also hidden in the tent at Chris’s aunt and uncle’s place in Melbourne, which she loved. So when we arrived at our hotel room on Saturday late afternoon, she squealed with delight when she saw her little tent bed. After taking off her shoes, she immediately ran over to the bed to hide in her tent. She was obsessed with the little windows where you could play peekaboo. I love that she still loves peekaboo… and I still wonder how long this peekaboo love will last?!

The hotel manager also tried to spoil her by giving her a full-sized bag of M&Ms and a bag of Skittles… which Chris immediately confiscated. I think by the end of the trip, he may have let her have two M&Ms and two Skittles max. I love these experiences that Kaia gets when traveling, and I love seeing people treat children well. I hope she can remember at least some of these experiences when she’s older, as at the age of 4, this is the earliest time of my life that I have very vivid memories of. And even when she isn’t able to remember, we will have lots of photos and videos to document and share with her so she can relish in the fact that she was so spoiled in these travel moments.

My very first cacao fruit — in Honduras

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Few things excite me more than discovering new food, and especially new fruit, while traveling. I love that different countries and and climates have different fruits that can only be grown in certain areas. Some people are upset by this, as they believe that globalization should enable anyone anywhere to get whatever produce they want anytime they want, but I think that’s just unrealistic given how delicate and sensitive some of these fruit and vegetables are. Indian mangoes are a great example: while many are being exported to the U.S. from India, it’s a huge gamble which of them are actually intact once they make it to stateside. Many would have rotted in transit, and they all need to be sprayed to prevent infestation. The one time we bought a box of Indian mangoes in New Jersey and brought it back home, I still remember one of them never ripened, while a couple others were rotted and black. There’s a no-returns policy on these, so it’s fully at your own risk!

While in Guatemala on our day trips to Antigua and Lake Atitlan, I talked to our driver about cacao fruit, and he had mentioned that locals did buy it to eat the fruit around the cacao beans. We saw it at a few fruit stands there, but the road conditions and traffic were unpleasant, and so I never asked our driver to stop. In Ecuador in July, our driver who took us to Quilotoa Crater Lake told us that one of his sons absolutely loves cacao fruit and that it’s one of his favorites, so he gets it just for him. My interest was piqued; I needed to try cacao fruit at least once!

So when we passed several street-side vendors selling the fruit, I asked Javier our driver if that was in fact cacao, and he confirmed it was. So we stopped by a fruit vendor, and from there, I was given a cacao and chose the ripest possible mango (out of likely over 20 that were ROCK hard!) given we had less than 24 hours left here. I just spent over $2 USD on local Honduran fruit, and I was extremely, extremely thrilled.

Back at the hotel last night, I asked if someone from the kitchen could help me cut the cacao in half. I got it back and scooped out all the cacao seeds (beans), which were covered in a thin, custardy white layer — this is the fruit! Chris and I shared the fruit since Kaia seemed extremely uninterested in it, and I didn’t feel like pushing her given it was a potential choking hazard. The flavor was sweet first, then a little tart, with a custardy texture and finish. Chris remarked that he wished there was more flesh to eat, which I agreed with. The more I thought about it, the more the flavor and texture reminded me of the cherimoyas we had while in Peru. Cherimoyas are a lot less work and far more flesh to eat, though! The act of sucking off the flesh from around the beans — this was definitely reminiscent of the mamoncilla fruit we ate while in Colombia and El Salvador. Those seeds were extremely large and round (super big choking hazard!), with a thin, bright pink flesh.

Fruit adventuring while traveling is one of the best things. Now I can finally say I’ve tried cacao the fruit!

A day spent exploring the surrounds of San Pedro Sula, Honduras

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If you look at places to see and what to do in San Pedro Sula, you can tell almost right away that it was never a place built with tourism in mind. There’s virtually zero tourism infrastructure. People obviously live there. Many businesses are located and/or headquartered here, so people come for business travel. But when it comes to sightseeing, most of that is found outside of San Pedro Sula, at least an hour outside the city, where you forget “urban” even exists because of how green, jungle-like, and rugged the area outside of it is.

We didn’t want to rent a car or drive in mainland Honduras, so Chris tried for a while to find a driver who could take us on a day trip, but it was challenging. Some of the drivers he found and reached out to didn’t seem legitimate. Others were quoting such astronomically high costs that they would even be absurd if we got quoted those numbers back home in the U.S. Finally, and unexpectedly, we were able to enlist the hotel manager’s help ahead of time in finding us a safe, legitimate driver who charged a reasonable amount to be our driver for the day outside the city. We were warned he didn’t speak any English, but this was fine because we’d give him our desired itinerary ahead of time. And of course, there was always Google Translate (what a savior!).

We visited a number of interesting places today that made us forget about the city completely. Our first stop was at D&D Brewery and Restaurant in the Pena Blanca area. It’s this little brewery/restaurant/inn that you’d totally overlook when driving passed it because it’s so tucked away. It’s physically inside a rainforest close to Lago de Yojoa (Lake Yojoa). Given they are a craft brewery (that uses mountain spring water), we got a pineapple and raspberry beer along with a slice of very light and fluffy chocolate cake to appease Kaia. We also walked around the property, which really did feel like we were right in the center of a jungle. It was a really beautiful spot with friendly service despite the language barrier.

Our next stop was at Los Naranjos Eco-Archaeological Park, which contains pre-Columbian ruins of a major Lenca city dating back to 800 B.C. That is even older than Copan, the famous Maya ruins also in Honduras that is likely better known. Copan dates back to 400 A.D. There, we got to walk along a long wooden boardwalk that curved through these huge wetlands at the edge of Lake Yojoa. I loved all the unique bird songs we got to hear while walking through it — how beautiful it would be to be able to fall asleep to those nature sounds at night! I also appreciated how relatively covered we felt by the endless large trees from the UV rays (I am officially in my forties now, after all…).

Just past midday, we went down to Lake Yojoa and took a calm, relaxing boat tour of the lake and surrounds. This time, our driver Javier came with us, and he occasionally pointed out interesting things to us, like the famous Goblin’s Cave and the turtle shaped island in the middle of the lake. While on the boat, I was reminded of this time last year when we were in Lake Atitlan, Guatemala, for a day trip. And the mountains in the distance here and the faint mist over them reminded me of that time. There are so many beautiful bodies of water in the world to see and explore!

We passed so many street side fruit vendors that I had to take advantage of this. So I asked Javier if he could stop by one so I could check out some fruit. I ended up getting a local mango and my very first cacao fruit — all for 70 Lempiras; more on this tomorrow!

A typical lunch by the lake will include fried fish, fried fish, and fried fish, all caught from the lake, with a side of freshly fried plantains in the same oil. Chris managed to find us a teeny tiny little quaint spot overlooking the water called Comedor Mayra, where a very nice lady was able to communicate with us and get our order in. I asked if she had juice, and though she didn’t have any, she was eager to get it from a nearby fresh juice vendor once we told her what we’d be interested in. We ended up having a hibiscus and mango juice. The fish was delicious, as were the tostones and the juices. And I’m still in shock from how cheap the meal was: an entire whole fried fish with tostones with all the cabbage and pickled vegetable fixings, plus two large fresh juices for just 250 Lempiras — that’s not even $10 USD!

Our last stop for the day was at Cataratas Pulhapanzak (Pulhapanzak Falls), meaning “white river overflow in Mayan. “Pulha” as it is known is 43 meters/140-feet tall, located on Rio Lindo about an hour’s drive outside of San Pedro Sula. The area served as a pre-Hispanic center, likely overlapping with the Mayan civilization. Before the Spanish arrived here, the falls were deeply revered as a sacred, mystical site by the indigenous Lenca people. Now, it’s fully set up for tourism, with the option to do cave walks, behind-the-water splash adventures, river tubing, and even multi-course ziplining. There is a big “Pulha” sign for photos with the large waterfall in the background, complete with a large platform to which you can walk up to get the perfect photo opp. It felt like mostly locals and maybe domestic tourists when we went. A lot were getting into the water and swimming in calmer, shallower areas. The whole area felt like a big family-friendly outdoor hangout, and a very natural one at that! I do not recall seeing a single obviously foreign tourist there other than ourselves. The falls were beautiful, and the mist went much farther than it appears it would. We had a feeling that we probably came on a lower flow day because the actual fall itself was relatively small.

We packed a lot into today, with the day planning done by Chris and Claude/Gemini, and some occasional help and friendly pointers from our driver Javier. We ended the day with yesterday’s Power Chicken leftovers (a very popular fast food spot with HUGE portions all over Honduras that should be visited if you ever come!) and a good night’s sleep. And luckily by midday today, my right butt cheek stopped hurting and burning, so I hope I’m on the short road to recovery from these coral reef scrapes.

Coral reef scrapes, the painful burn, and the 4-year-old who wants to ice mama’s butt

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Given that I am a city person through and through, I guess it’s no wonder that I’ve always had a fear of deep water, especially the ocean water. I’m a human being living on the land; by definition, the ocean is a foreign place to me because I cannot live in the ocean. And for all you people out there who love swimming in the ocean and think you are really a mermaid, reality check: you are not! So on the three previous times I’d been snorkeling and saw very, very deep water and can tell the ocean floor is extremely far below me, I occasionally have this tiny wave of panic come over me and just hope to some higher power that my leg doesn’t cramp up or my life vest does not suddenly fail. So then I take a deep breath and keep swimming.

This morning was our last morning in Roatan and our last chance to be at the beach before taking a plane to San Pedro Sula, where we’ll be until midday Monday. No one is going to complain about a last beach outing, and I wanted to seize the moment and go snorkeling one last time. So we went to the beach for a couple hours before packing up and heading to the airport. Chris did not share the desire to go snorkeling again, so when I went out, it was just me while he stayed ashore with Kaia.

This didn’t really bother me that he didn’t want to go out again. The water is pretty calm and virtually waveless. It’s really the perfect place to go snorkeling without supervision or help. So I went out on my own. For a long time, it felt really nice. I saw a lot of the same fish as yesterday, and this time, I saw even more schools of different fish varieties. But then suddenly out of nowhere, I got hit by a wave that I didn’t anticipate, and I got pushed into a really shallow (and seemingly dead) stretch of coral. Then, I got pushed into a sitting position — on top of the dead coral. This was a really shallow area — the water was barely even two feet deep here. I kept looking around to see where I could swim to escape the coral — it almost looked endless no matter which way I looked. How the hell was I supposed to get off this thing?! I eventually got out of the area and into open water, but I could tell that I had more than just a few nicks and scrapes. Something on my right butt cheek was burning, and it was definitely from stupidly sitting on the coral. I mean, it wasn’t like I meant to do that, but it just kind of happened…

This is why the ocean can be dangerous: you have no idea what is lurking out there that does not want you in its space. And they will do things to you to harm you if you are in the wrong place at the wrong time. I swam quickly back to shore, where Kaia immediately noticed scrapes bleeding on my right leg and asked me about my “boo boo.” I went to the restroom to properly clean my scrapes and examine my wounds. The scrapes were fine — they looked like any other scrape. But the wounds that were on my right butt cheek were another story: they were bright red, puffing, pulsing, and burning. And this feeling was not reducing in the least bit even after I washed the area and tried to pour clean, cold water on it. After a shower, the pulsing pain and burning persisted. So en route to the airport, I told Chris we needed to stop by a pharmacy to see if I could get an ointment for this. I explained to a pharmacist what happened, and she gave me a hydrocortisone cream to apply on my scrapes. When we eventually got to our hotel in San Pedro Sula, the hotel manager was really kind and made me an ice bag, and I applied that to my butt for a bit in our room before we went out for dinner.

Kaia insisted on helping me ice my butt: “Mama, I wanna ice your butt!” She shrieked multiple times. So I let her push the ice bag against my butt while I lay on the bed. She’s always looking for ways to be helpful, and I know she has a very strong, caring, nurturing side to her (I’ve lost count of the number of times she checks in with me on random “boo boos” she finds on my body, when she asks if something hurts, and when she cares for all the dolls at school when it’s activity center time). I find it really sweet and endearing, and hope she continues to be caring and attuned to others’ feelings.

After dinner out at Power Chicken (a local fast food chain favorite with huge portions!), we showered and slept. But I still couldn’t sleep. The pulsing pain and burning was not improving. And now when I scratched it, there was a very deep pain that would result from that. The ice bag was not a proper ice pack, so I couldn’t sleep with it without wetting the bed eventually. So after 1.5 hours of burning and pulsating, I finally came up with the idea of taking the cold plastic water bottles in our fridge and using them as a pseudo ice pack setup. The fridge was cold enough, so I was finally able to fall asleep.

And… I tried falling asleep hoping this wasn’t some insane outlier coral reef scrape infection that would end in sepsis and potentially kill me.

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.

Osmanthus flower tea

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Today, my friend came over for an afternoon catch-up, and I suggested that we grab milk tea from TP Tea, which is owned by Chun Shui Tang, the original Taiwanese shop that is reputed as the original creators of bubble tea. It happens to be just a few blocks from my apartment, so she picked up an order for Chris’s parents and me on her way over. I chose the osmanthus oolong milk tea with house-made lychee jelly, 30 percent sweetness, and less ice.

I was thinking about my milk/bubble tea choices in the last year or so. I don’t get milk tea that often, though New York City has exploded with endless Chinese, Hong Kong, and Taiwanese franchises, with the biggest being HeyTea. But one type that has always been popular among Asians that I only recently got into was osmanthus tea. Osmanthus is a yellow fragrant flower that, similar to jasmine, is oftentimes added to tea or drunk on its own (like chrysanthemum). It’s very aromatic and oftentimes infused with green, black, or oolong tea leaves. It has an almost fruity taste. In Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), it’s known for promoting relaxation, supporting digestion, and also delivering a high amount of antioxidants. I’m getting more into the non-tea fruity, floral flavors as of late. The tea isn’t always enough for me anymore, even if it is really good, fresh loose leaf, and high quality!