Category Archives: Hope

Ronny Chieng at the West Side Comedy Club

Posted on by
Reply

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.

An identity crisis at the grocery store

Posted on by
Reply

While in the dairy section at Trader Joe’s yesterday, I stood in front of a refrigerated wall of yogurt options, debating what to get. Given my focus on high protein, lean muscle building, and fat loss as of late, I knew I had to (at least temporarily) ignore the European style full-fat yogurt I would normally get in favor of the drained, thicker lower-fat Greek yogurt. But when I looked at the Greek yogurt options, I felt confused: why were all the 1% and 2% fat options so much smaller quantity wise, yet more expensive than the 0% large container (one quart)? And also, where did all those 1-2% fat Greek yogurt options even go? This section of the shelf had been completely wiped out before I even arrived at the store late morning, so even if I had wanted to choose those, they were no longer there for me. So I was left with the 0% fat Greek yogurt option, which was my least desired option (zero percent – what is that – like eating a bunch of nothing favor-wise?!). And since I had made the trek all the way up to 92nd Street, there was no way I wasn’t coming back with Greek yogurt, as it was on top of my ‘to-buy’ list. I felt like I was having an identity crisis: since when did I ever buy nonfat anything — ever? Even before living with Chris, when I lived with my then-roommate and friend, we always bought 1-2% fat milk or yogurt. This felt like a funny thing — me walking around Trader Joe’s with two quarts of zero percent fat Greek yogurt (which also happened to be the very last two quarts of Greek yogurt in the entire store at that time!). Maybe the Yvonne I thought I was will no longer be?

I told my friend about my identity crisis over text when I came back from TJs, and she laughed at me and said that zero percent dairy is basically like eating a thick blob of nothing. Even with her fat loss / lean muscle building goals (and she has always been way more into this than I ever was), she said even she refuses touch that stuff and has to do at least 1 percent fat. Welp, there we have it: even she won’t touch it.

Chris’s parents go back Down Under after a month-plus in North America

Posted on by
Reply

Chris’s parents left this afternoon for their long flight back to Melbourne after just over a month of traipsing around North America, with several days or week-long stints at our place. It’s always fun in the lead-up to their arrival, and then there’s some sadness at the end when Kaia realizes that her beloved Sumi and Topi are not going to cater to her demands every evening forever and ever because they will leave. Even I feel a little sad when they go. There’s less people and thus less chatter and noise in the house. There are fewer mouths to feed, which is sad for me because I enjoy feeding those I love. And then there is also just less energy in the house. I even miss the things that can at times be annoying, like Chris’s dad constantly trying to eat everything with a fork and knife (even things like… muffins or french fries…) because he hates getting his hands dirty, or Chris’s mom asking for the millionth time if we are going to run yet another wash. I miss the classist conversations of Chris yelling at his parents about how pretentious they are, and even the one-sided talks about how marriages of today don’t last simply because people of my generation have unreasonably high standards and inflexibility (said by people who would most likely be seen as inflexible and stubborn, but hey, who needs self-awareness today?). The banter is fun because I know it will all eventually go out the door with them. So it’s all temporal and good entertainment for me.

As I left the building, our handyman friend asked us what was new, and I told him that Chris’s parents just left to go back to Melbourne. “Oh, you can breathe a sigh of relief then!” he said to me, patting me on my back.

“No, I actually am sad they are leaving,” I smiled. “The more, the merrier!”

“Well, isn’t that unusual!” he responded back, surprised.

He says this to me pretty much every year they come, and he forgets that I genuinely like my in-laws. I like spending time with them. And every visit when they come and tolerate their eldest son’s ridiculous demands and our much smaller, cozier living space versus what they have, I am reminded again and again how, relatively speaking, they actually are quite easy-going, far more so than almost any other parent or in-law I have known or heard of, of their generation. And for that, I am always grateful.

The amazing pizza guy in Washington Heights who sent me home with a huge sample of his Calabrian chili oil

Posted on by
Reply

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.

Mother’s Day breakfast at school on Friday

Posted on by
Reply

Every year around Mother’s Day, Kaia’s preschool hosts a Mother’s Day breakfast/tea event where they invite all the mothers/mother-figures to school for a little party. Last year, I missed it since we took a long weekend to Rhode Island. But this year, I was able to attend. Since the classes are all quite small (Kaia’s class has THREE STUDENTS in it, with two teachers, one who teaches in English, the second in Chinese!), they combine all the kids and parents in the same classroom for this event. And while it was beautifully set up with food and hot tea and drinks for all, the parents just didn’t really want to interact with each other. It didn’t matter if you were on either end of the table or in the middle. Not a single parent wanted to proactively talk to anyone else. Every parent was mostly eating or interacting with their own kids. On the 4K side of the table where I was, I attempted and failed at small talk with the two moms of the other two 4K kids. It was mostly a lot of question, answer, question, answer, with me doing most of the questioning. Very occasionally, I got asked, “What about you / you guys?” questions back, but that was only because I asked first. It honestly felt like pulling teeth. And when it was time to go, I was more than ready to leave. Kaia was sad to see me go and started crying, but I really had to get away from these parents who seem to have zero desire to socialize even for the facade of being friendly.

I have really hated the lack of community at the last two schools Kaia has been at. I hope that we are able to feel some sense of community and camaraderie with the parents at her new school come September.

How long are we allowed to be kids?

Posted on by
Reply

When we were getting ready to go to Kaia’s friend’s 4th birthday party in our building yesterday, out of nowhere, Kaia decided that she wanted to wear her cow costume (from Halloween two years ago, as it was oversized!) to the party. Originally, Chris was not a fan of this and insisted that she just wear regular clothes. But Kaia is stubborn (just like both of her parents), and she continued persisting that she really wanted to wear it. I thought about it for a minute and just told Chris that we should relent.

“We should just let her wear it,” I said to him. “She only has so much time when she can wear a costume like this when it will be considered ‘acceptable.'” Plus, she’s already slowly getting too long for this oversized costume, and she won’t be able to wear it soon anymore. So we should just let her get more wears and fun out of it as long as we can.

Of course, Kaia was thrilled. She insisted that the cow be fully zipped up, and that she even wear the cow “head” (the hood part). Knowing her, I had a feeling she’d last only a short time at the party with the outfit since it would get quite hot and stuffy, especially with so many people in the apartment. So predictably, the cow costume eventually came off. But of course, all the adults marveled at her cow costume initially. One of them even asked me, “So, is this her weekend outfit of choice?”

Kids can get away with so many things that adults could never get away with: making beelines and cutting people off for seats on public transportation; constantly angling for freebies at stories and restaurants; simply smiling and getting free candy from doormen in buildings; wearing single-piece full length costumes on just any average day. I love that about childhood, and I wish we could all learn to embrace it more. Childhood is finite — it will all come to an end, and then we will no longer be given grace on so many things. Well, I can’t really personally embrace it since I’m quite far from my childhood years, but I want to let Kaia embrace it for as long as possible. I want her to enjoy her childhood and not have her rush to become an adult. There’s so much fun and magic in childhood that gets lost when we focus too much on the future and “getting big.”

A 4-year-old’s birthday party

Posted on by
Reply

Even though I am a parent to a four-year-old, in the grand scheme of early child parenting, I really haven’t attended or taken Kaia to that many birthday parties. Most of the “birthday parties” she has been to have been held at her school within classrooms, and the kids get some version of a cupcake or cake/ice cream, along with a goodie bag of toys/treats to take home. A friend in our building, whose son turned 4 today, told me that she really hated kids’ birthday party setups here, such as the ones at places like kids’ gyms and play spaces because it was really all about the kids playing and goofing around, along with some crappy “included” food like cheap, greasy pizza and soda — none of which grown parents would enjoy and would just suck up since it was part of the overall fee. And the fees are quite expensive: they are not something to sneeze at, especially when your kid is so young and will barely remember most of these things — other than through photos.

So she said that she preferred intimate gatherings with local friends and their kids. If they were traveling, they’d have dinners and cake cuttings with family. Today, she hosted us at her place just several floors down, where along with some local friends and their kids, we ate Popup Bagels (today, I learned these are for dipping, not for slicing and filling!), drank champagne, and also enjoyed two delicious, very “adult” cakes from Delice Macarons, a local French bakery on the Upper West Side. One was chocolate mousse cake (gluten free!) shaped like a mini chateau, while the second was another chocolate mousse with a very delicious and refined raspberry gelee. While I chatted with the other parents and kept a casual eye on Kaia to ensure she didn’t break anything, I thought to myself — this is such a refined birthday cake for a four-year-old child. Most kids of his age would never appreciate or even know how good they had it to have a cake this meticulously made — and probably very, very pricey! What a little dream to have a chocolate chateau as your birthday cake!

But that’s also what I think of Kaia Pookie: she has no idea how wide and refined of a palate she actually has. She doesn’t realize that she has such a breadth of cuisines, and has really only been exposed to fancy, gourmet chocolate — with the exception of that Twix she ate last October. ‘Tis the life of little kids who have food-appreciating parents as their mamas and daddies.

Proof that my child will become an omnivore (or stated differently, will not become a vegan)

Posted on by
Reply

I’ve been clearing out most of the meat-based proteins in the freezer ahead of our upcoming Costco trip, and I found that I still had two packs of bone-in chicken thighs from Butcher Box. So I marinated them last night and roasted them, Vietnamese garlicky-style. I pulled all the meat off the bones and assembled what my mom would call a “cuon cuon” station: a shallow bowl-plate for dipping rice paper, a stack of rice paper, bowls with various herbs, lettuce, sliced cucumbers, pickled daikon/carrot, cooked rice noodles, crushed toasted peanuts, scallion oil sauce, a plate of just roasted garlicky chicken, bowls of nuoc cham for dipping. And because I had a random single egg remaining from the carton I just threw out, I also ribboned an egg omelet into strips to add to the cuon (rolls).

Kaia had her own vegetables and chicken on her plate at dinner time, but she was watching as I rolled chicken cuon for Chris and me. For the first time watching me do this, she was actually very fascinated. First, she asked if she could do it. Then, she realized quickly how finicky it was (these rice papers are very sticky and pliable for a 4-year-old!), so she asked me to make some cuon for her. And then, she happily tore into them and chewed them vigorously. She was very excited to finally “participate” in her cuon cuon station that her mama made. She instructed me on exactly how much of each filling she wanted in her cuon. I was so proud that she was embracing this for the first time, at age 4. There’s a first for everything!

Then at bedtime, we read a book together that included a unicorn and lots of food. And as per usual, Kaia likes to “pretend eat” all the food by “grabbing” all the food on the pages and pretending to chomp on and eat them. For the first time, she “grabbed” the unicorn and pretended to eat it.

“Pooks!” I exclaimed, a bit confused. “You can’t eat the unicorn!”

She smiled mischievously at me in response, then her face went blank. “Why not?” And then she paused and giggled. “I’m just pretending, mama!”

Unicorns are mythical animals. But my Pookie insists that she wants to “eat” them. I guess this may be a sign she has zero desire to become vegan anytime soon.

Making strawberry matcha latte at home

Posted on by
Reply

The last time I was at a matcha cafe, I was very tempted to get their strawberry matcha latte. But then I balked at the price — $9. I thought to myself, I know I can easily make this for so much less at home, and I would enjoy doing it. So I ordered a cheaper matcha latte that day and made a mental note to myself that I had to buy strawberries when on sale next and commit to making the strawberry sauce base.

So I got two pounds of very ripe strawberries from a street vendor in Astoria last weekend, and this time I knew I was finally going to make this happen! I washed and cut up the strawberries, tossed them into a little saucepan with a little bit of sugar. Then I boiled and simmered it for about 10 minutes. I pureed the sauce and stored it in a jar in the fridge. The “hard” work was done here.

Today, I finally put it all together: I added about a quarter of a cup of the strawberry sauce to two tall glasses (for both Chris and me), then poured in about half a cup of milk to each. I took some of my Costco everyday matcha powder and whisked it with some hot water. I added this to the glasses along with some ice and stirred a bit. Then I took a sip.

This was definitely tasty, and likely more satisfying knowing that I made this all by myself… And knowing that each of these glasses did not cost $9! I am more than happy to pay for lattes or tea/coffee drinks out when I know I cannot be bothered making the equivalent at home. But for me, a strawberry matcha latte is very low effort, high reward. And as long as I have matcha at home and affordable access to sweet strawberries, then I’m all in on making these and enjoying at home.

When your esthetician actually compliments your skin

Posted on by
Reply

Since about 2013, I’ve been getting a facial about once a year to treat myself. There have been some anomalies where I’ve gotten two facials in a year, but that was either because I got a second one because of President’s Club at my last company, or because some friends wanted to have a spa day together. Then in 2024, I got referred to a skin clinic in Midtown Manhattan by a friend, and I really liked the esthetician who worked with me. Since then, I’ve committed to about two-ish facials per year, plus a few laser treatments since in my middle age, I’ve discovered a little hidden body dysmorphia (I have a great track record for being slow to almost everything…). In this entire time, I’ve pretty much never gotten any compliments on my skin other than that I’ve always looked young for my age. (I will note that when I went to my first and only dermatologist appointment back in October, the doctor said my “skin looks great!” But alas, she said this in the context of moles and potential skin cancer, so take that with a grain of salt). Other than that, most previous estheticians have told me that I have “very congested” skin, or a congested nose (I mean, I do have Asian genes, so this tracks). And in the last few years, I’ve been told that my oily skin has morphed into “combination skin,” meaning that I am dry in some parts but oily in others. So, this has been a lot of fun!

So yesterday, I went in for a facial with my now-regular esthetician. And after the full facial treatment, she took a few photos for me and compared these to when I first started seeing her in mid-2024. And she said to me, “Yvonne, your skin is looking so good! It’s so much brighter than it was before. Just look at these before vs. now photos. Have you been doing something different to your skin lately?”

Well, yes. I started an Australian 20 percent azelaic acid cream every morning since the end of December. And then I started 0.025 percent Tretinoin two days after my birthday in January for about four days per week, so I guess I have been doing a lot that is more intense and different for my skin than before. So maybe this is what is making it “brighter?” I have no idea. I look at my face every single day and probably scrutinize it more than I should, but if she didn’t show me the photos, I likely would have thought my skin was never going to do any better than it did in 2024.

It does feel good when an objective other person can share with you that something about you is improving for the better, though. I hope my skin health keeps up!