Category Archives: Friends

“Couples” date in Elmhurst today

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Today, the three of us met up with my friend and her husband for lunch at an Indonesian restaurant we like in Elmhurst, Queens. The funny thing is we originally met them at a food event in a Brooklyn backyard just over a year ago, so this wasn’t actually our first time meeting her husband. I’ve met up with this friend over the course of the last year one on one, but we’d never arranged for the guys to come until this time. Kaia was intrigued by the “new friends” at the table. My friend’s husband knew way more about Bluey and Peppa Pig’s family than we would have ever guessed. And we talked a lot about family and cultural dynamics, travel, and college experiences.

The “couples mingling” thing is always funny because two friends can get along amazingly well when it’s just the two of them, but their spouses may not get along when in that group setting. Or, one of the friends may detest the other friend’s spouse, or whatever other combination you can think of. Given this was the first time we were all hanging out together, the conversation was fairly neutral and tempered, and nothing really edgy came up. But I was thinking about “couples friends” and how hard, in reality, they are to make, given the above potential situations. In most of my friendships, I far prefer just hanging out with my friends vs. hanging out with them and their spouses. I like being with them all occasionally, and I do enjoy seeing potential group dynamics and how they can unfold. But I almost always would prefer their spouse not be there. There are very few people I can name where I can say I equally enjoy time altogether as much as time spent with just my friend.

So, we’ll see if we all hang out again. I hope we do, but if it doesn’t happen that often or again, it won’t necessarily be the end of the world. The good news, though, is that both like kids, and they definitely enjoyed spending time with Kaia Pookie. I could tell Kaia was warming up to them, too. When we took a bathroom break, as we washed our hands, she asked me if my friend would still be at the table when we came back. When she asks questions about my friends, this is how I know she likes them.

(One of) the most enjoyable conversation topics: cross-cultural differences

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I love talking about food, culture, travel, books, food, cooking, and more food. But when I think of the best and most interesting conversations I’ve had with people I am just getting to know, one of the most exciting ones is most definitely about cross-cultural differences. Although I have not always been passionate and loved what I have done for a living, I know I’ve been really lucky and privileged to meet a lot of genuine, kind-hearted, and truly good people in the last 17-plus years of full-time work. I mean, work life is how I met the love of my life — my fuzzball Chris. And it’s also how I’ve met some people I am lucky to still call friends today. What has also been lucky is that although all the companies I’ve worked for have been American companies, the last two have had global offices, so I’ve been able to meet people who were born, raised, and live in other countries that I previously had known little about.

I met up with a friend and former colleague from my last company who happened to be in town from Amsterdam today. I hadn’t seen him since pre-pandemic — in November 2019 in Amsterdam, so almost exactly six years ago. This was before COVID-19, before the world shut down, before he got married and had two kids, before I got laid off, started a new job, and then went through IVF and had Kaia Pookie. We did the best we could to cover what’s happened between our respective lives in the last six years since we saw each other, though we had loosely kept in touch over Whatsapp throughout these years. He told me that while he would be in Manhattan, he was also meeting up with another friend he’d made recently, an American he met while in Uzbekistan last month. This person was very friendly, and they got along really well during their travels. And he had said to him that if he would ever come to New York that he’d like to meet up with him. And so he figured it wouldn’t hurt to message him to ask because he really did plan on coming.

“So, I never know what to think of Americans when they say things like that because most of you don’t mean what you say,” my friend started. “If a Dutch person says they want to meet with you while you are in town, they definitely mean it. I’m very direct in that sense, as Dutch directness is a real thing. But Americans? Americans say all kinds of shit they don’t mean, and then I’m left wondering if they really mean their offer!”

I laughed at this because I know exactly what he means. People here always say stuff they never follow through on: “Please keep in touch (this is actually code for: let me stalk you silently on social media/LinkedIn especially so I can see how you are doing personally/professionally, but I have zero desire to interact directly with you live).” “Please reach out when you are in town, and we can grab coffee.” “Let’s get lunch when you’re around!” Personally, I’ve messaged former colleagues and people I thought were work friends when I’ve been where they are. And when it came to making plans, a number of them have just not responded or responded initially, and then when it came to setting a firm date and time, stopped replying. And that’s when I realized, okay, I made the effort, but they don’t want to make the effort, and therefore, I’m not going to try anymore. It is what it is; I accept it, stop thinking about it, and move on.

I told him that at this point, I think he knows me better than to assume I am full of shit – this is where I am not like the American stereotype. If I say I want to see you, I definitely do want to see you. I will never suggest catching up with someone I am either indifferent to or flat out do not like.

He grinned. “I know, and that’s why I messaged you to see if you wanted to have a meal! Plus, I knew you’d recommend a good place because you know food!”

I think American culture could improve quite a bit by being more direct the way Dutch people are. At work, it can be especially painful. One of the things (of a long, endless list) I hate the most about American work culture is excessive politeness and small talk because then you are left wondering if they are asking because they genuinely care, or if they are just doing all this to put on a polite front to gain favor with you. But I suppose that is the fun in working with global organizations — learning to navigate all these nuances and making sense of it.

Third time to Staten Island this year

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I shifted a bunch of meetings today so that I could go to my friend’s place in Staten Island and work remotely while also cooking for her. She’s now 2.5 months postpartum; it’s crazy how the time flies. Her baby has increased his weight by almost 50 percent and is very responsive now. My friend is pretty much healed from her birth and getting around a bit more. She’s now returned to cooking, something she enjoys, and is also proactively trying to get outside at least once a day for a walk and fresh air. It’s been good to see her healing and looking and sounding more like herself.

I will admit, though, that while I am happy to go all around New York City and explore different neighborhoods, it’s not necessarily the easiest or most convenient for me to get all the way out to her neighborhood in Staten Island. It is not subway accessible; I either need to take an express bus (which is an extra cost on top of an OMNY card) or the ferry; then, I need to either get picked up by her fiance or take an Uber/Lyft to and from her place. Staten Island is not public transportation friendly at all; it really requires you to own a car and drive everywhere, just like the suburbs. It is the least New York City-like of all five boroughs. While I enjoy the one-off rides on the ferry and seeing Manhattan drift away, plus views of the Statue of Liberty, I am not a fan of her being this far away and removed from everything she loves about New York. But I suck it up because it’s her choice to be there. This is my second time visiting her in Staten Island since she gave birth. I saw her once in the hospital after birth in Manhattan.

She was chatting with me about a bunch of her “good” or “close” friends while I was over today. Since she brought them up, I asked her if any of them (or any other friend, for that matter) had come to visit her since I was last over last month. The response was negative. I was her only friend who had come. The only other people who had been over were Joe’s family plus her own mom. I just found this really surprising. Usually, friends would love to come see their friend after giving birth and just to see the baby. I definitely don’t expect any of her friends to come cook and clean for her, but I’d at least think someone would have come to see her at least once. I am sure it has to do with distance given where she is located. People are lazy in general and don’t like to make huge efforts for others unless there is some incentive for them.

Though she has been my friend for almost thirty years, I don’t see her as just my friend; to me, she is my chosen family, my created and chosen “urban tribe” that I read about in my college sociology class. I treat her the way I would treat my own family members. And I know she sees me the same way. We are always bonded even without blood. And so I am happy to cook for her and stuff her face with browned butter pumpkin cookies and Chinese chicken wine soup. And unlike a lot of other friends I have, she is always, always outwardly and obviously grateful for even the littlest things I do for her. And that’s one of the many reasons I adore her.

Browned butter and cozy kitchen delights

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As I’ve gotten older, I can definitely feel my metabolism slowing down. I can’t eat as much food as I used to. I definitely cannot eat the same sweet things I once ate as a kid or even as a 20-something-year-old. Some sweets I choose to stay away from completely (hello, candy in general and sour belts, which I was obsessed with as a little kid), and other things I have in very small quantities. Once upon a time, I could probably just sit there and eat five medium sized freshly baked chocolate chip cookies in a single sitting. Now, I can eat… one. And then if I have made them myself, I need to really space them out. And as we all know, homemade desserts have a very short shelf life (no preservatives!), and they can get dry quickly given they are all natural. So, if you don’t finish them within a certain time, they are just nowhere as delicious and moist as day one or two. Given this, I bake desserts only when we have company or are bringing baked goods to someone else, with the exception of “healthy” baked treats for Kaia.

The problem with this is that baking is one of my biggest and first loves in life. I have so many fond, happy memories of baking in my aunt’s kitchen upstairs. Most of those bake sessions were from box mixes, but as a little kid, I didn’t understand, nor would I probably have cared. I was actually making something that my family and I could eat, and that seemed so special and amazing to me when I was four, five, and six years old. When you think about it, it’s still actually quite amazing: it’s amazing to be able to share food you have made with your own time, effort, and hands with the ones you love most. It’s special to nourish the ones who mean the most to you. Because what is more important than fueling our bodies with sustenance?

So last night, I browned butter for the first time in ages. In my early 20s, I used to do this a few times a year for special treats like browned butter chocolate chip cookies, financiers, among other rich delights. I browned an entire cup or 240 grams of butter, and the house smelled so sweet, caramelly, toasty, and utterly delightful. I used it for the browned butter pumpkin cookies I made my postpartum friend, which I will be bringing to her place tomorrow. She recently had a baby, and I wanted to bring her more food and cook for her. She texted me and said she was really enjoying the hawthorn tea blend I made for her, especially because it had cinnamon, and it felt very cozy for fall. So given this, I figured browned butter pumpkin cookies would go with her “autumn cozy” feelings.

I was packing up the cookies this evening and decided to try one fresh. And it was truly delicious: rich, pumpkin spicy flavor, with caramel notes from the browned butter. The sugar level was perfect and melded into the butter like a dream. It was soft and chewy, with this almost addictive texture that mirrors that of snickerdoodles. When I thought more about it, these really are the pumpkin and spice version of snickerdoodles! My snickerdoodle-obsessed friend would have loved these cookies. Chris even declared these cookies “Tim Tam level,” which coming from him is quite high praise. Scientifically Sweet recipes never fail to be a delicious success.

I drew the line at one cookie for today, though. Now that I am nearing 40, I think a lot more about how many sweets and rich foods I eat. That single cookie had about 11 grams of sugar. 😀 I loved it, but I do not need to eat too many of them in a single sitting.

Very “clean” baking mixes

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The neighbor I’ve been hanging out with while having play dates with our kids gave me a Simple Mills box mix for banana muffins or bread loaf. She said she has so many of this brand’s mixes that she’s gotten bored of the flavors, and she thought that maybe I could work my baking magic and jazz it up. The slogan is, “Only purposeful ingredients. Nothing artificial, ever.” The mix is gluten free and vegan (though it does call for three eggs and suggest using yogurt in place of water to increase moistness of the muffins). And when you look at the “simple ingredients” list, it just lists these: Almond Flour, Banana, Organic Coconut Sugar, Arrowroot, Organic Coconut Flour, Baking Soda, Organic Cinnamon, Sea Salt.

Based on the above ingredients list, there’s no weird artificial or “natural flavors.” No dyes or preservatives are listed. No weird names of things that the average person cannot pronounce are here. The average grocery store box mix has preservatives like propionate, potassium sorbate, sodium benzoate, and other emulsifiers. Simple Mills really is what it states: straightforward, simple ingredients. I wanted to believe this had to be good, so I decided to whip it out today and see how it was.

The instructions say to use three eggs, 1/2 cup water, and 1/3 cup oil. I used two eggs, replaced one egg with a “flax egg” (1 tablespoon ground flaxseed to 3 tablespoons water), replaced the water with yogurt as the suggestions stated to increase moistness, and used 1/3 cup coconut oil. The mixture seemed really thick, so I added some coconut and oat milk to thin it out a bit. I also wanted to add more spices because the only spice mentioned here was cinnamon, so I added some ground cardamom, ginger, allspice, nutmeg, and mace. I mixed it all up, added the batter into my mini muffin pan, and baked it. The bake time was also longer than I thought by about 50 percent, which was weird, but I’d rather have done muffins than liquidy ones.

Once the muffins were done and cooled, I tried one. It did not poof up the way wheat flour muffins do and was quite flat on top, but the flavor was pretty decent. The texture was soft and on pair with other almond-flour-based breads/muffins I’d had before. The spice flavor was very good. The one downside, though, was that there was absolutely zero taste of any banana. The spices, coconut milk, and oat milk had completely drowned out any banana fruit flavor.

I had one first and didn’t tell Chris what I thought. I did not want to influence what he tasted or thought. After he had one, he immediately said, “Not bad. Did you put something Indian in it?”

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

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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?

Mudita and a mama’s heart swelling

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One of the friends I was planning to see while in San Francisco in August ended up having to cancel last minute. Her brother, who lives with her, had tested positive for COVID, and given their proximity, she figured she could possibly also have it and didn’t want to risk spreading it. I was really sad to not see her since that would mean I would not have any chance to see her in 2025 outside of this. But I knew she was just being prudent. A few days later, she actually developed COVID symptoms so bad that she had to take a few days off work, so it was a smart call in the end. The last thing I would want to deal with is having COVID again after my 2022 experience with it. Plus, the following week Kaia would have started Pre-K, and we wouldn’t have wanted her to miss her first days of preschool.

My friend told me that she had all these gifts she had gotten for Kaia that she’d originally planned to give us in person, but given she wasn’t going to see her, she would send them. She messaged me this week with the tracking number, and it arrived today. When I opened it, I was a bit overwhelmed with how many things were in here, plus the sheer variety of gifts: A Disney picture matching set, a wooden Peppa Pig dress up kit, a Halloween spooky sticker face decorating kit, three Halloween themed books that include Peppa Pig and Pookie (by Sandra Bounton), a card for Kaia wishing her a happy Halloween and apologizing for not being able to see her in person when were in San Francisco, plus some matcha and cookie treats (for Chris and me) from her recent Japan trip.

I laid out all the gifts and took a picture of them together. And then, out of nowhere, I suddenly felt like my heart was swelling. I smiled looking down at all these presents so thoughtfully chosen and purchased by my college friend for my sweet baby, and it just made me feel this intense sense of gratitude and joy. First, I knew that my friend took time (and spent money) to choose all these gifts; they were not hastily thrown together. Second, I was positive Kaia would love all of them. And it just made me feel so happy, so grateful to know that I have a friend this thoughtful, and that my Kaia Pookie would be so happy about these gifts. In the book I just finished reading, The Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu, they mention the concept of “mudita,” which is a Buddhist term for being happy for others’ happiness. It is a Sanskrit word that translates to “appreciative joy” or “sympathetic” joy and involves delighting in good fortune and happiness of others without jealousy or envy. Mudita is considered one of the “Four Sublime States” or immeasurables in Buddhism, along with loving-kindness, compassion, and equanimity (it is the opposite of schadenfreude, which is the feeling of pleasure at another’s misfortune). In the moment I opened this package, it was like mudita swept all over me. I just couldn’t stop smiling and thinking about happy this would make my baby.

I also just felt this overwhelming sense of gratitude for the friends I have. My college friend visiting this week showered Kaia with special presents especially curated just for her — super sparkly, colorful, and blingy. Then, this second college friend basically did the exact same thing via mail. I’m so touched that after all these years, not only are they still my friends, but they think of my little daughter and want to give her things that will delight her. Before I had Kaia and became a mother, i’d always heard of the term “heart swelling,” but I never knew what the feeling was like. And now that I have her in my life, it’s like my heart swells all the time — at things she says, does, and learns, and also seeing how much love, kindness, generosity, and grace those around us shower her with.

College friend is in town and immediately makes nice with Kaia

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One of my college friends is in town this week for her cousin’s wedding, and she’s brought along her boyfriend of the last 1.5 years. We haven’t seen each other since her second wedding, which happened in March 2017. Since then, she’s had a baby and been through a pretty nasty divorce. Her baby is now 6; mine is almost 4. A lot has changed in both of our lives since we last saw each other in person. But it felt so good to stay connected to her all these years and finally see her again. She said she was excited to see me again, but honestly even more excited to finally meet Kaia. And of course, she made sure that Kaia would like her right away by coming and bearing gifts for the little Pookie.

My friend showed up with a glittery rainbow purse, sequined, multicolored unicorn slippers, and a set of rainbow pencils. Kaia was smitten almost immediately and wanted all the things. She usually doesn’t want other people in the room when one of her parents is reading bedtime stories with her. But with Ellis, she insisted she sit with us while reading on her bed. This was definitely a first: Kaia doesn’t even really like it when Chris’s parents are there at bedtime. So clearly my friend did something right. It was fun to see their smooth interactions and how my friend entertained Kaia, but with an adult-like conversational approach.

Kaia asked multiple times if our friends would stay or go home. And I said that they’d go home, but maybe if we’re lucky, she can see them again. Kaia said she definitely wanted to see them again.

Spicy cumin beef at home

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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!

I love people who read

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Today’s plans changed pretty drastically once I found out the AFSP OOTD walk was postponed, so I ended up having a lot more free time than I’d planned for. I did a bit of cooking during the day, and later in the afternoon, I messaged our neighbor friend and toddler who we spent time out with last Sunday to see if they wanted to hang out. We went from the play room to their apartment and then back downstairs to the lounge room over the course of two hours. For the most part, the kids were able to play together independently without involving us, and us two adults were able to chat about everything from travel to language learning/acquisition to one of my favorite topics: books! One thing (of many) I miss about being in a school environment is talking about what people around me are reading. I don’t have a lot of friends who read a lot — maybe just two or three who actively read and can always say they are reading something. But I love when I learn that people read, and I love it when people ask me what I am reading (which then means I can ask them what they are reading and potentially get book recommendations that I otherwise would not have known about or even considered). What we choose to read says a lot about us, and at its most surface level, it shows that we are curious and want to learn more about things that are not just ourselves.

I told her I was currently reading the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu’s The Book of Joy. But this past year, I read a lot of historical fiction about the Vietnam (American) War, the Cultural Revolution in China, and the Partition of British India into Pakistan and India. In the book about the partitioning of British India into Pakistan and India, one of the book’s main characters makes commentary about how ridiculous, stupid, and inward looking American news media is. During that period in the mid to late 1940s, she was studying and then working in the U.S. as an immigrant from India, and it was virtually impossible for her to learn anything that was happening in her home country despite the massive changes, cultural/religious violence, and India becoming independent. What she learned that was actually happening in the country was only through letters that came (much delayed) from her family. Sadly, this is not quite far from the truth today: U.S. media is always so focused on… what’s happening in the U.S., ally countries of the U.S. It’s always about what happens here, and if you want to learn about anything happening in other countries, it’s 100 percent on you. We talked about the media, and that transitioned into how she’s been working on her French, and one way she gets better in her French language acquisition is by reading… graphic novels! I was so intrigued when I heard this; I know no one who reads graphic novels. The last graphic novel I read was when I was in high school, and it was Persepolis, a book often compared to Art Spiegelman’s Maus. While Maus tells the story of World War II through the lens of the author’s father, who was a Polish Jew and a Holocaust survivor, Persepolis tells the story of the Iranian Revolution through the lens of the author herself and her own experiences. When I told her this, she told me that Persepolis (in French, its original published language) was next on her list! She reminded me what I learned during my four years of French language and culture in high school: graphic novels aren’t a big thing (they are barely known at all!) in the U.S,, but in France, they are huge. There are entire bookstores devoted to graphic novels in France, and they are truly considered (and some are even priced as) works of art! She said it was easier for her to follow a graphic novel and improve her French than an actual novel (very difficult for obvious reasons), and not only was she able to enjoy the art and the story, it helped her improve her language skills. This almost made me want to read Persepolis again. I even have a hard copy of this book at my parents’ place.

After our time ended together and I had to get Kaia back home for dinner, she thanked me for our time together and said that while she’s happy that Kaia and Hugo love each other so much and get along well, she’s even happier that she met me and that we’ve gotten to know each other well over the last few months. I would agree; she has definitely surprised and intrigued me in ways that get my mind thinking more. That is the true beauty of friendship and getting to know others who grew up completely differently than you.