Category Archives: Culture

The pre-judgments we make, and what happens when we are dead wrong about them

Posted on by
Reply

My college friend who is in town this week is here with her boyfriend of 1.5 years. Her boyfriend is originally from India, did graduate work and work in New York for about nine years, and now lives in the Phoenix area. Given that he spent almost a decade living in New York City (different areas of Brooklyn), he knows it fairly well and told my friend he knew where to go and what the best places to eat were. My friend, who is also food obsessed, knows that I am food obsessive with both finding places to eat and cooking. So of course, she reached out to me for my recommendations for specific areas they’d spend time in. After I gave her a handful of recommendations for one or two neighborhoods, I sent her my entire NYC Google Map, which I am constantly updating (yes, really, pretty much every single day something is being added, edited, or removed at least once). This list, as of today, has 761 places across all five boroughs; yes, that’s right: all five boroughs. And when he saw her refer to this mysterious food map that I’d created, he got a bit jealous.

“What, are you really referring to your friend’s food map? her boyfriend said, rolling his eyes. “She lives in the Upper West Side. What would she know about Brooklyn food? Don’t you remember I lived here for nine years! I know the good spots!”

My friend was quick to put him in his place (I love this about this friend; she never fails to call out bullshit when she hears it and delights in telling people when they are wrong). “Umm, you clearly don’t know Yvonne at all,” she retorted. “She goes everywhere and knows all the places all over New York City. This list has over 700 spots across all the boroughs! Have you been to all these neighborhoods?! Plus, you moved away four years ago; a lot has changed since then!”

His friends they were staying with made similar comments, trying to dismiss anything that someone like me living on the Upper West Side could suggest. My friend was annoyed because she kept saying she wanted to eat Asian food, but all those friends did was take them to Italian-adjacent and American foods places. “I can eat this food in Phoenix!” she grumbled. “I want ASIAN FOOD!” Somehow, her preferences went mostly unheard.

While her boyfriend’s eyes did widen after he heard the 700+ spot comment, he still was not convinced. He wanted to box Chris and me into the “Upper West Side” box, as in, if we live here, we must not know much about any neighborhood outside of where we live (or work)… because why on earth would anyone want to leave their neighborhood and see other areas? And this is where he was glaringly, glaringly dead wrong about us.

On Wednesday when they mapped our address to come over for dinner, he immediately saw the Google map label that said our building was a “luxury building.” He looked at my friend and said, “Who the hell are these people?” And when he got to our lobby, checked in with the doorman, and went up the elevator, he made more comments like this, in shock and confusion of who the hell we were and what the hell we did for a living that would allow us to live in a “luxury building” like the one they’d be hanging out in for the next nearly five hours.

So over the course of their time at our place, somehow all his assumptions were proven wrong — about Chris, about me, about what it means for people like us to live on the Upper West Side of New York and what that may say about who we are as individuals and what we like, dislike, and believe in. He ate my food. He drank Chris’s whisky and wine. He laughed at our commentary and banter and engaged with us. He had a good time and felt like himself. And on their hour-long commute back to his friend’s place in Brooklyn with my friend, he said he liked us a lot and perhaps the greatest praise of all you can give to your girlfriend’s friends: “They’re my kind of people.”

It’s always fun when assumptions are proven wrong, isn’t it?

Spicy cumin beef at home

Posted on by
Reply

It may have been college when I learned that in areas like Xinjiang and Xi’An, China, that cumin paired with red meat like beef and lamb is common. The very first time I had cumin lamb I am actually unsure of. But when I first went to Xi’An Famous Foods in its original dinky stall in the Golden Mall in Flushing, Queens, way back in August 2008 (shortly after I moved to New York), my mouth and my brain were excited. I got lots of tingles from the liberal use of freshly ground Sichuanese peppercorns. I tasted a strong hit of cumin from the cumin lamb in the cumin lamb burger. And the hot and numbing noodles were lip-smackingly delicious.

I am not sure how it took over 17 years for me to finally pair cumin with meat at home, but here I am this afternoon, between work and calls, casually braising a pot of spicy cumin beef. The entire apartment smells like cumin. I can even smell it on my bathroom towels (I forgot to close all the doors, which really I should have known better to have done… but it slipped my mind).

After two hours of braising and reducing the braising liquid, I fished out a piece of beef and cut into it with a fork. It was fork tender, hot and numbing, and perfect. After my milk bread victory just a couple days ago, I felt even more self-satisfied knowing that my first attempt at spicy cumin beef over wavy knife-cut noodles (previously sun-dried) would be a success. I’m having an out-of-town friend over for dinner tomorrow with her boyfriend, and I’ll be serving this with kao fu (Shanghainese style seitan and mushrooms), Sichuanese spicy cucumber salad, blanched yu choy, and finishing with a French apple cake to welcome in autumn. I’m so excited!

CBS News New York Livestream covering the AFSP Out of the Darkness Manhattan walk this Sunday

Posted on by
Reply

After the live segment the AFSP Manhattan walk co-chair and I did on Saturday, we were informed yesterday that they’d like us to come back for the CBS News New York live stream. It was a bit chaotic in the last 24 hours because the date and time of recording kept changing; we weren’t sure if it was going to be filmed today or Friday. Plus, the volunteer manager and I (the ones who were asked this time) both have day jobs obviously, so we had to coordinate our work schedules on top of the changing filming schedule.

I arrived at the CBS Studio at 9:45 this morning and waited for our volunteer manager to arrive. When he did, we noticed that they had just sent the interview questions about thirty minutes before. And when we finally started recording at 10:15, I realized that the questions were not exactly what was shared. I was a bit thrown off and stumbled a little bit during one of my answers, but eventually picked myself up and kept speaking. I kept thinking to myself after: how funny it is that during the live segment, I spoke fairly well, yet during the pre-recorded taped segment, I stumbled! That was so annoying to me. We were reassured that because this was being taped and not airing live, we didn’t need to worry about any stumbles, that they would cut/edit it so we all looked and sounded good.

When we finished our segment, the director stopped filming. Cindy Hsu, the news anchor who interviewed us, is also on the board of AFSP, and she was really great to work with. She was warm and friendly as soon as we got on the stage. We made some small talk before and after about AFSP and our families. She took photos with us and also did a cute little social media video for each of us on her phone.

CBS News would also be present at the walk on Sunday, likely interviewing AFSP volunteers and participants every hour starting at 9am, and our executive director asked that I also speak with them there. I figure that will be a lot more ad hoc and casual since it will be at the event, and so I don’t have any pressure to look or feel polished. All in all, both TV experiences this week were completely unexpected a month ago, and it was a fun way to mix up my usual week to week routine. Now, I can always look back on this and say that I was on live and pre-recorded TV!

The mystical spice that is mace: a surprising source of floral and citrus fragrance

Posted on by
Reply

Back in June 2023 while we were in Kerala, we went on spice tour that included looking at real spices being grown on a farm, including ones that are native to India or surrounding countries, such as cardamom, cinnamon, nutmeg, and mace. I had seen the spice called mace noted in a number of Indian recipes before, particularly in garam masala blends, but it was usually marked as “optional” and not required. It piqued my interest, though, because I had actually not known what the spice mace was or what it looked like. I had heard of mace spray (NOT related, by the way), but the mace spice was not used in that defense spray (ha). Mace is native to the Banda Islands (also known as the Spice Islands) in Indonesia. It is, interestingly, the husk (or more correctly, the “aril”) of the spice nutmeg. Nutmeg is considered the seed of the tree, and mace is the aril, or a delicate, lace-like coating that envelops the seed. On the plant, it’s quite beautiful to look at (if you think plants are beautiful things, that is). During that trip, I decided to get a packet of mace arils. Since then, I’ve stored them in a dark cupboard away from heat, only removing a couple at a time to toast and grind immediately into my homemade garam masala blend.

For whatever reason, I never thought to grind it and smell it alone. Today, I finally did in preparation for my pumpkin spice blend that I was making. I knew I wanted this version to have mace in it. And wow, I was in for a real treat and surprise! The scent was not that surprising after I toasted the whole arils. But once I ground them in my spice grinder, I was completely blown away after I removed the lid and inhaled. The scent of the freshly toasted, ground mace was warm, sweet, floral, citrusy, almost with a minty undertone. I couldn’t get over how citrusy this ground mace smelled. It smelled absolutely nothing like nutmeg, which is far more woody, spicy, and earthy. I also loved the hue of the ground mace: it is this very pretty deep tan/pale orange. After I ground the mace and placed it into a small glass jar for storage, I couldn’t help but keep sniffing it. I just love this scent! I did buy this at a spice farm directly in India, so even though the mace arils are over two years old, you would never guess they were this old!

And to think it only took me almost 40 years to find out how unique and interesting this peculiar spice is!

Commentary on the evolving definition of “etiquette” or “manners”

Posted on by
Reply

I had two onsite meetings at the same company downtown today. So instead of my usual work-from-home routine, I actually had to get dressed to meet customers in person and was out the door this morning for in-person meetings starting at 11am. I try to get to onsite meetings well in advance of the actual start time for multiple reasons. First, as a sales leader I worked with at a previous company said, “If you are not fifteen minutes early, then you are fifteen minutes late.” Secondly, a lot of buildings have security protocol like government ID checks, bag scanners, metal detectors, etc., that they need to go through before they let you through their doors or into their elevator banks. And thirdly, it’s always good to get to a meeting early, feel composed, straighten out your shirt/wipe off sweat/use the restroom well in advance of the official start time. But when I met my three colleagues at the check-in desk today at 10:40, one of my colleagues had a look of disappointment on his face and asked if I had checked my email in the last two minutes. I had not. He told us that our main stakeholder, who had actually invited us to this onsite meeting, simply emailed and said he was not going to be in the office today, and gave the first name and phone number of the person who should get us in and check us through security.

All of us were shocked and dumbfounded. It was so rude to be told about 20 minutes ahead of an in-person meeting that our host would not be showing up. And for me, it was even more rude to a) not apologize, b) not give any reason for the sudden change in plan, or c) express zero remorse or regret. It was beyond ridiculous. Either way, we went ahead with our onsite meeting; 16 people ended up coming from their side, so it was certainly not a wasted effort. But the whole thing left a really bitter taste in my mouth and did not make me feel good about this person.

I later texted Chris to tell him what happened. And he said that yes, it was terrible, but it was not simply poor manners; it was just flat out unprofessional. This person has most likely done this with other professionals in his time in the workforce, so this would not be an isolated incident. It’s just really upsetting to hear that people actually think it’s okay to operate like this. It should not matter if it’s your boss, your peers, your vendor partners, your friends — this behavior should not be acceptable, period.

It made me think about the concept of “etiquette” or “manners,” and how people seem to be so loosey goosey and nonchalant about things like this today as though it’s not a big deal. And it reminded me of a conversation I had with my friend earlier this week, when she told me that she spent several hours writing out recommendations on how to change the pitch deck of her friend’s new organization (this would be fully unpaid work, done as a favor for her friend) given her work background… and the friend never thanked her or even gave an acknowledgment of receipt of the work. It really upset my friend, as this happened over two weeks ago, and she was still fuming about it.

Sometimes, I think I might be “getting old(er)” for even getting annoyed at things like this. But these things aren’t done by people younger than me; they are usually around my age or in this customer’s case, clearly much older. So it’s really not about age. It’s about a general lack of etiquette and sense of professionalism, or even common decency, that apparently we’re just supposed to “accept” today.

The clothes I forgot about post-childbirth and a reawakening

Posted on by
Reply

When we moved to our current two-bed, two-bathroom unit from our one-bed, one-bath unit downstairs when I was pregnant, Chris got a bunch of large, deep plastic bins to make our move a bit easier. Since we moved, I have (very inefficiently and messily…) used these to store some of my clothes and Kaia’s bedding/miscellaneous cloth items. In one of the bins is a lot of my warmer weather clothing, including about four above-knee skirts that I would wear relatively frequently pre 2021. Once I had a child, though, I kind of forgot about the existence of these skirts, far preferring single-piece dresses, longer skirts for more coverage, and looser shorts. These were all more comfortable, and after you have a child, comfort is obviously key. I took a look at the bin this morning and thought, hmmmm. I am turning 40 in just a few months. I cannot not wear all these nice skirts that still fit me (plus, while I do not remember what they cost, I’m sure none of them were that cheap!). I still have to look at least decent in them, right? I exercise six days a week; I still have legs, don’t I?!

So I tried one of them on this morning to see if it still fit. Yes, it still did, and it still looked good on me. I decided in that moment that I could not give up on these skirts (or really, my body, for that matter) and give them away. I had to maximize the ROI of these skirts by wearing them as much as possible before I actually become old and wrinkly. And so, I wore one of them today proudly. Granted, I did not immensely enjoy running around a playground with this bright orange mini skirt on, or going down multiple slides wearing this skirt, but I figured that was a small price to pay for getting more wear out of clothes I have already invested money in.

I might be turning officially middle aged in January, but I still have a decent body. And I suppose I should still flaunt it while I still have it — that is what confidence looks like!

The Nutcracker ballet – Almost 35 years later

Posted on by
Reply

I have always loved Christmas and pretty much everything associated with it. When I was 5, my mom and aunt took me to the San Francisco ballet to see The Nutcracker. I was so excited since I loved ballet, but I got sick halfway through the show and had to leave early. I still remember being so upset that I got sick, as I had been looking forward to watching the Nutcracker for what then felt like a very long time. When I moved in New York in 2008, I knew that at some point, I wanted to try to see The Nutcracker again, but this time at the New York City Ballet. Each year as autumn rolled around the corner, I’d occasionally check the official site. But by the time I’d check, all the good seats would be taken. Mostly nose-bleed seats would be left, and they’d be astronomically expensive, around $200-300++ expensive just for the opportunity to squint and barely see anything on the stage. I never thought it was worth it, though each year, I’d still have my hopes up and just cross my fingers that I’d get lucky. I especially wanted to see The Nutcracker in 2021 when I was pregnant with Kaia Pookie, but when I looked at the show dates (all starting right after Thanksgiving), I thought it would be cutting it way too close to my due date, which was December 14; there was zero chance I’d spend $200+ on ballet and risk never even seeing the show because I went into early labor.

Then a couple days ago, I got an email from the New York City Ballet stating that they were offering early access discounted tickets for MasterCard holders for this year’s The Nutcracker performance. I immediately clicked in to see what was available and what the pricing would be, and I was shocked to see that this truly was “early access.” Almost the entire orchestra level was available, and you could get seats in this section for as low as $219 (this is almost unheard of in over 17 years of living here!!). I immediately went through my mental list of local friends to see who might want to come (and pay) with me. And I remembered I have one friend who said that if the tickets were in the $200ish range, she’d be willing to come. So I confirmed dates/times with her, and I went to the box office today to buy the tickets. And I was able to get them! I was so shocked that this actually worked out just as planned, and the optimal seats were still available. We’re seated in the second row of orchestra. With these tickets in hand, along with The Met Opera tickets I’d also purchased in the same Lincoln Center visit today, I felt rich! I couldn’t believe how lucky I had gotten — all in the same day!

Yes, it was a lot to blow on live performances in a single day, on two theater shows. But alas, I’m turning 40 in January (that’s going to be my excuse for pretty much everything semi-indulgent I do from now until probably next June), so I’m allowed to indulge and live life! I’ve survived this long and thrived for most of that time, so I think I deserve this fun!

Phone calls from PoPo and GongGong

Posted on by
Reply

Since we got back from San Francisco, my mom has been calling occasionally to see how Kaia is adjusting to preschool and being back in New York. Given that Kaia is turning four in just a few months, she’s definitely far more aware of her surroundings and what’s being said around her now than she was one year ago. When people call, she always asks who it is. And now, she’s been requesting that we call PoPo and GongGong. She wants to “see” them via the video chat, but she doesn’t quite understand (or accept) that they refuse to do video calls with us, and that with them, it will always be voice-only.

The other day, my mom called, and Kaia asked if it was PoPo (she could probably recognize her voice through my phone) and asked if she could talk to her. She started waving and saying hi to PoPo. When PoPo asked her if she enjoyed San Francisco, Kaia responded, “Yes.” When PoPo said to Kaia, “Kaia, I love you!” Kaia even responded with, “I love you, too.” Even though I obviously have a complicated relationship with my parents, this still made me feel really happy inside to hear them communicating back and forth like this over the phone. I smiled at Kaia talking to her PoPo and then started laughing when Kaia replied “No!” when PoPo asked if she could come to New York and visit her.

Right after we got off with my mom, out of nowhere, my dad called. My dad hasn’t called me in three years since that difficult email exchange we had in August 2022, when he lashed out at me over something completely innocuous and lost his temper in a big way. He asked if Kaia was there, and then he actually asked to talk to her! I put my dad on speaker phone, and he asked Kaia how school was, if she was going home, and then called her a “good girl.” Kaia kept yelling excitedly, “GongGong! GongGong!” Then, he turned back to me and said it was time to go, and to take care. Then, we said bye and hung up.

I don’t think I will ever have an uncomplicated, 100 percent peaceful relationship with my parents where we fully understand or even accept each other. But after all that’s happened in our life together, I know deep in my soul that they tried the best that they could… even if their best was not always great with Ed or me. I know they love me and want what’s best for me. At the end of the day, I have an infinitely better and more privileged life than they could have ever even imagined for themselves. And a lot of it is because of them and what they’ve given me. And well, even if our relationship continues to be complicated, annoying, and absolutely infuriating, I do want them to have a relationship with Kaia, their only grandchild, and I want Kaia to know them and love them. So, these brief little phone exchanges have had a weird way of almost feeling like bits of healing for me.

I hope Ed is able to see all of this and smile down at us. I only wish he could also interact with Kaia directly in the flesh now.

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

Posted on by
Reply

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.

Ferry Building Farmers Market and the whining and whinging in the background

Posted on by
Reply

On Saturday morning, we decided to take a Waymo out to the Ferry Building for the famous Saturday morning farmers market there. I love that farmers market; it’s likely my very favorite one in all of the U.S. that I’ve visited. As a native San Franciscan, I quietly feel a lot of pride and joy when I walk through the endless fresh produce stalls there. Every time we walk by the stalls, whether they are selling various (all labeled by variety!) heirloom tomatoes, eggplants, strawberries, or peaches, it’s as though the perfume of these fresh fruits and veggies beckon to us. I have yet to visit any farmers market in the U.S. that has such rich fragrance coming from the fresh produce all around. If my parents’ house weren’t as cluttered and dirty, I’d be tempted to buy a bunch of the produce there to prepare simply and eat at home, but I guess that is not to be.

While I enjoyed seeing, sampling, and inhaling all the deliciousness around me, it felt like there was someone whining in the background every time I reveled in a tasty piece of tomato or local Valencia orange. No, it was not my toddler. It was actually my mom, mulling in the background, complaining that this peach or that strawberry was too expensive. Seemingly every stall we visited, she’d remark how expensive something was and how could anyone pay so much for any of this produce. It almost dampened my experience of the market. Unlike her, these people take pride and joy in the produce they grow and sell, and they should be charging what is a reasonable price to make a living and continue to sustain themselves. Not everyone has the luxury to not work and have several paychecks come in every month. But she is so out of touch that she never thinks about this.

My mom said she wanted to come with us to spend time with Kaia. But I think we all know there was no quality time spent together. The one moment I actually stopped to pay for a small basket of sun gold tomatoes, I asked my mom to watch Kaia. That didn’t work out. She held her hand for maybe five seconds, and then Kaia ran off. My mom ended up luring her back with candy, which I explicitly told her not to give. If it’s not one thing, it’s always something else that is going wrong.

A friend of mine, who also has a dysfunctional relationship with her mom, reminded me that our parents will never change who they are, and we’re incapable of changing them. The only thing we should be focused on is making sure we are an improvement from them and try to be better parents to our children than they were to us. Each generation should be “better” than the previous. I hope I am achieving that — I hope.