Category Archives: Love

Longer days, warmer weather = happier self

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Ever since I was young, I have always disliked cold weather. The dreary, grey overcast days of the Richmond District of San Francisco always made me feel miserable. Then, when I made the decision to move East for college, snow was fun for about a hot second, and then it settled in to me that this atrocity would last about three months every year. Overall, I’ve really embraced the distinct seasons (especially spring, summer, and autumn), but I always have a general dread for winter because of the shorter, darker days and the extreme cold.

So when it starts warming up in late spring, I always get excited. The days are getting noticeably longer, and I can feel myself just feeling happier in general that I can look forward to lots of sun, natural light through our windows, and not needing to wear layers every day. I am the happiest when I can walk out my front door and not put on any layer on top – no zip-up, no windbreaker, no coat — nothing (other than a hat)! This time of year, I am definitely my happier self.

“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.

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

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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

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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.

Making use of my Costco “deals”

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Last October when we did a big Costco haul, I picked up a number of goodies or “treats.” I define “treats” as things that I don’t necessarily need, but I do want because they are fun. Unfortunately for me (but fortunately for my bank account), this past weekend’s Costco visit was pretty much 100 percent utilitarian. I didn’t buy a single “treat” item — everything was strictly grocery, for immediate or future use, or was usable like short socks or slippers.

So I started looking at my pantry and food storage areas when I got back to see if I had overlooked anything I got last October, and after I had organized all my newly purchased food items. And I realized that I still had a large bottle of Nielsen Massey vanilla bean paste sitting under my kitchen sink that I had used only once since purchase. I got so excited when I saw this because I had learned about this brand of ultra-premium vanilla bean paste through professional pastry chef forums. Everyone who has baked in professional kitchens has always raved about how this was their go-to brand for vanilla bean paste, that it took vanilla to the next level in their desserts, and they could not imagine living without it. Every time you use it, you see the beautiful vanilla bean seeds flecked throughout the dessert. I am obsessed with how it looks (we all eat with our eyes, regardless of what anyone says).

I don’t make that many desserts anymore unless we are hosting friends and family over, though. So my opportunities to bake elaborate treats are not that plenty. But I knew I wanted to use it in the next couple weeks while Chris’s parents are in town. So I asked Claude AI to find me a quick and easy recipe with simple, household ingredients to highlight the deliciousness of my premium vanilla bean paste. And smartly, it suggested a classic dessert: vanilla bean custard. All you need is milk, egg yolks, sugar, cornstarch, and of course, vanilla bean paste, and you’ve got dessert ready in less than 20 minutes. I mixed all the ingredients together minus the milk in a heat-proof bowl. Then, I warmed the milk over the stove until steaming. I slowly whisked the hot milk into the egg yolk mixture. Then, I put the mixture back on the stove and whisked until thick. Then, I placed the custard back in a clean bowl and put in the fridge to cool. Tomorrow, we will get to enjoy a very, very vanilla beany custard — all thanks to my fancy Nielsen Massey vanilla bean paste and the quick help of my budding good friend Claude.

It’s not a real Costco “deal” unless you use it. So, I better find new ways to put my fancy vanilla bean paste to use, and this is how I will start!

How long are we allowed to be kids?

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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

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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)

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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.

All relationships are work

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The Oxford English dictionary defines work as, “activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose or result.” If you know the strict definition of work, I think most would agree that all relationships are work. It doesn’t matter if it’s the relationship you have with your spouse, child, mother, friend, or colleague: all require a certain level of effort in order to sustain the relationship — at least, in some semi healthy way.

Chris and I just hit our 10-year wedding anniversary last month. His parents sent well wishes on our family Whatsapp group. Then his brother wished us a happy anniversary, also saying, “Good work on reaching 10 years of marriage!”

I looked at his message and smirked. “Thanks!” I responded back. “Ummm, yes. It is most definitely work!”

I told my friend, who is uncoupled, that we had reached our 10-year wedding anniversary and had been together for over 14 years now. She was flabbergasted.

“Shit, I don’t know how you do it!” she said to me after wishing us a happy anniversary. “How can you stand someone for that long, constantly in your space and not doing things the way you want them done?”

This friend knows I am anal-retentive with cleaning. She knows I like everything done in a very certain way in the kitchen. She also knows that I have very strong opinions. And on top of all that, she’s met Chris a number of times now and has had the chance to speak with him a decent amount, so she said she could already imagine how ridiculous and intense our disagreements and arguments would be.

I always wanted to get married. Ever since I learned what marriage was, I wanted to get married and live “happily ever after.” But I don’t think Disney fairy tales or the example of what “marriage” is supposed to be like based on my parents’ relationship were ever the best examples that set me up for success. I’ve spent decades reading psychology and sociology articles and studies, and took a number of classes on these topics. Hell, I even took a sociology course on sociology of marriage and family in college. And when I did therapy two different periods of my life, I spent a good amount of time talking about my relationships with my parents, friends, and Chris, and what I want and do not want to be or become. All of this has been really hard work and required a lot of thinking and introspection. Sometimes, getting to a state of self-awareness can be quite painful. Yet despite all that hard work, I still mess up and do and say stupid things I don’t really mean to say or do in the way it comes out. It’s like every day, I am trying to break out of inherited intergenerational trauma and redefine what I want to be in my relationships with Chris and others I love. I guess everyone is a little bit like that: we only know what we know — until we try to break unhealthy cycles — again, assuming we have a certain level of self awareness, or someone helps point it out to us.

But the work we put into relationships with those we love most is important. It’s probably the most important work of your life. It’s hard for me to imagine a life without those who are closest to me who I love the most. Frankly, I don’t want to be my dad in that sense: I don’t want to be a total loner with zero friends. I also don’t want to be in a marriage where I feel emotionally estranged from my spouse. So while many reject close friendships or serious romantic partnerships, I guess at the end of the day, I am still a romantic and want all these things to be a part of my daily reality.

So, the work continues.

Friends for all different reasons

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Last night, Chris and I went out with our two friends for dinner and a comedy show (Jo Koy!) at Radio City Music Hall. We were talking about how I recently came back from my 40th birthday girls trip with two of my best friends, and they asked me how it went. And I answered it the way I’ve been answering it with everyone I’ve talked about it with since coming back.

“I had a lot of fun,” I said. “I loved the cave spa at the hotel. We caught up on a lot of things. But my main takeaway from the trip was that it served as a reminder to me that they’re my childhood friends.”

We have friends that come out of lots of different periods of our lives — growing up through our parents’ friends’ kids, relatives’ friends’ kids, classmates, friends through common interest extracurriculars; then, as you get older, you meet friends at college, through friends of friends, social events you attend, work, and the list goes on. But the friends you make during childhood and may be lucky enough to take into adulthood and beyond — they are your friends because you happened to be together at a certain time and place out of circumstances out of your control. So, in many ways, you were all kind of forced to be together. With that, you carry and share history together, and given this, they become more like your family rather than friends you chose because of aligned values or life perspectives.

In this trio, we fall into the same familiar and oftentimes annoying familial patterns that are almost sibling like. I tend to be the leader, making all travel arrangements and setting up itineraries, restaurant reservations, and coordinating times for what activities happen when. I also tend to be the one who has to push for things to happen… like certain activities at set times given flow of day, or for inane things like trash to be put in the trash bin. A second friend tends to be the “peacemaker” for better or worse: she will actually put the third person’s trash into the garbage can even when it’s not hers because she doesn’t want to “cause trouble,” but then this ends up enabling our third friend, who is a bit of mess. This friend always wants to stay neutral and gets frustrated when opinions are shared that she perceives as too strong — which are likely the vast majority of mine. Oftentimes my opinions are met with a response along the lines of, “Well, everyone is entitled to live where they want to.” Which is obviously true, but I wasn’t really saying my opinion as if it was the only right one, more that this was what I thought…? And our third friend is living life without thinking past tomorrow. She contributed zero to this trip other than paying for her share and showing up; she even admitted to never reviewing my itineraries in detail. It’s a good thing ChatGPT and Perplexity AI did most of the “work” for me. And as noted earlier, she’s sloppy and doesn’t really take responsibility for a lot of the way she is, or her life’s circumstances. I am sure to them, I can seem stubborn, pushy, too opinionated, and too quick to challenge. To a degree to certain personalities, I can see how I am all those things. But the truth is — as I am getting older, I am embracing these qualities even more because I am just getting even more and more comfortable in my own skin, living my life the way I want to.

As I’ve gotten older, I have really enjoyed meeting people who have lived very different lives from me. I ask more questions because I want to know what’s different and what I don’t know. At this point, I really don’t feel a need to meet more people from the Bay Area or people who have had similar life experiences to me unless it’s convenient. And I actually really enjoy it when people challenge my opinions or stances on specific topics. I don’t see it as a put-down or an attack; I actually see it as fun. I think it makes me think more. But not everyone believes this.

I feel very lucky all the time that I’ve maintained friends since age 11. They are like family to me and always will be. But I also feel very, very fortunate and privileged to have made some really great adult friends, even as recently as in the last two years, who have really added more fun, challenge, and perspective to my life. They align with the way I look at the world and the meaning I am trying to get out of my time on earth. And it’s been very refreshing. All friends serve different purposes in our lives, and so that’s why it’s important to have multiple friends to fill our cups in different ways. I am so, so lucky.