While wandering around Ottawa on foot, we stumbled upon the National Gallery of Canada across the street from Ottawa’s Notre Dame Cathedral on our first day in town two days ago. We noticed there were long lines to enter and was wondering what interesting exhibits might be attracting such a diverse crowd. As Chris suspected, it was a free night: every Thursday night between the hours of 5-8pm, all national museums in Ottawa grant free admission for all. So, we got to enter the museum for free and enjoy music, drink, and an art-making session. There was an open airy space in the gallery where you could sit, drink, people watch, and grab some black paper and a tray of crayons, and just draw. I originally grabbed the paper and crayons for Kaia. Sadly, she lasted about one minute before she grew bored and just wanted to run around and wreck everything. So instead, I ended up using the crayons myself and drawing some different flowers and butterflies. And although I didn’t do it for very long, I actually enjoyed it a lot and found it quite freeing. It was like my mind was unloading all of the crap I had on it from San Francisco the previous week. It reminded me of the trend a number of years ago around adult coloring books: these types of mindless doodling and coloring activities can be a form of therapy. They are soothing, relaxing, and enjoyable to do.

We just ordered Kaia a couple new crayon boxes for her new school’s supplies list that was just shared. Who knows – I might end up “borrowing” some of her crayons for my own art projects in the near future.

Every time I come home to San Francisco, I am always immediately reminded of how much better all the produce is in California versus New York. Aside from the obvious point that a lot of the produce we eat in the U.S. is grown in Mexico, and thus travels a far shorter distance to California than New York, California also produces a sizeable chunk of the nation’s produce. This shouldn’t surprise anyone, as California, if it were its own country, would stand as the fifth largest economy in the world. Plus, the produce in California just comes out tasting better. I’ve long thought that California peaches and oranges are far superior than any others grown in other states. Florida oranges are shit; I stand by this statement. I don’t even know why people think Florida is great for oranges when Florida Naturals, the juice brand, makes the most hideous processed orange juice I’ve ever tasted. There is something about California oranges that makes them so delicious, perfect for both juicing and eating. They are extremely sweet with just a hint of tart (and just enough), but their flavor is complex, and far more so than oranges grown in Florida and elsewhere in the country. Georgia and New Jersey loves their peaches, but I have always found them a bit blander and more one-noted than the California peaches. Is there a water issue with California? Yes. But that’s completely beside the point that California grown food just *tastes* superior.

Here’s something seemingly silly I always marvel at every time I come home to my parents’ kitchen: when my mom has bought cilantro (which is fairly often, since she loves it and uses it to garnish almost every Vietnamese dish and many Chinese dishes), I always notice that it just looks that much fresher, healthier, almost fluffier or bouncier, if that makes any sense. I’ve never seen cilantro wilt in her kitchen; it seemingly always wilts in my New York kitchens. In addition, it also seems to last longer, and my mom doesn’t even store cilantro in the “recommended” ways that food guides I read suggest!

After dim sum in the Embarcadero with friends yesterday morning, we walked around the San Francisco Ferry Building farmers market, which I haven’t visited since my early working days back in 2011-2012. It seemed so much bigger than I remember: there were far more prepared food stands than the last time I remember visiting. There were cider stands, many types of pie and cake stands, even an Indonesian dessert stand. I loved seeing all the fresh produce at semi-reasonable prices, looking and smelling quite vibrant. I marveled at all the varieties of heirloom tomatoes, clearly marked, all looking like they just got plucked off the vine yesterday morning. The sight of all this fresh produce was really stimulating to me, even though I had zero intention of buying any since we were leaving today, and I knew my parents wouldn’t appreciate any fresh farmers market haul. I was excited to see that the Roli Roti stand was still there, humming along with its very long but efficiently moving line, churning out the most delicious roasted chicken, porchetta, and crispy pork belly that we could smell, served in local, crusty Acme Bread loaves. I fondly remember working out of my then-company’s San Francisco office and asking my colleagues what their favored lunch options were. A bunch of them insisted we all walk over to the Ferry Building Farmers Market to get the famous Roli Roti sandwich. And before we even got to the growing line, I could smell the irresistible scent of slow-roasted rotisserie chicken and juicy, crispy porchetta. We were a chatty bunch, but when we sat at a bench and ate our sandwiches, we all became silent, just enjoying the taste of that amazing sandwich.

I almost wish my stomach had space for that sandwich, but sadly it didn’t after the sumptuous dim sum we had at Harborview Restaurant and Bar, which was one of the best dim sum experiences I’ve had in ages (next to Hong Kong Lounge Bistro on Monday with my parents); every single dish was perfect. I am normally not a huge siu mai / shao mai person, but the ones at Harborview were truly exquisite (and I never use that word). They looked beautiful with their intricate pleating and were topped with some sort of fish eggs. The mouth feel and crunch of the shrimp against the rich, fatty, silky kurobota pork were the biggest highlights for me in this siu mai experience. I also loved the custardy, silky milk pudding with a hint of ginger juice (it just dissolved on contact with my tongue!), the creamy yet firm and fruity mango pudding, and literally all the sugary-crusted buns we got, ranging from cha siu to coffee. And though I was full at the end, I still was tempted to keep slurping the pi dan shou rou zhou (century eggs and pork jook), which was made even more special with finely shredded dried scallops. Dried scallops were also shredded in the nuo mi ji, the sticky rice with chicken and mushroom wrapped in a fragrant lotus leaf. Harborview is an upscale dim sum experience, and with the scallops and other fine touches and details, it was certainly more than worth it.

My friend (who I have known since I was in middle school), her husband, and their almost-2-year-old met with Chris, Kaia, and me for dim sum. We sat the two kids together in their high chairs at the restaurant. Given we were all eating out with our two toddlers and attempting (and mostly failing) to have a meaningful conversation, it was definitely a little chaotic. While it would have been more peaceful without the kids, it also wouldn’t have allowed for all the cuteness to be witnessed and documented by our phones. Neither child ate particularly well, but when they did eat together and interact with each other, it was a little bit of magic. It was endearing to see our babies interacting with each other since we have been friends for over a quarter of a century now. I always hoped that Kaia would like the children of my closest friends, but I wonder if they will know each other well enough to want to be friends and maintain contact with them given they will not see each other as often as their school friends. But I suppose only time will tell.

I took a quick look at the weather forecast for San Francisco during the 1.5 weeks we’ll be there, starting Saturday. And it looked as pathetic as I thought it would: it’s pretty much 60s F the entire time we are there, with a couple days hovering at around 70-71 F as a high. Of course, when we’re in Sacramento, the temperatures will be in the mid to high 80s, as expected. But it’s pretty annoying to think that we’re leaving a real summer in New York to a winter in San Francisco. I have always hated wearing layers, which is what is needed when you are in San Francisco.

Chris had panic bought all these cheap shorts and t-shirts for Kaia during her potty training intensive phase so that she would not ruin any of her nicer clothes. But with temperatures in the 60s, I’m thinking we may actually need to put her in real pants. And because we’ll only be at my parents’ house for the weekends, that means we won’t have easy access to laundry. So what I’m likely going to do is… pack literally every pair of pants that still fit her and hope for the damn best. And also take some of my parents’ laundry detergent in a small container for accidents for on-the-go-cleaning. What fun awaits!

We arrived back in New York yesterday morning after an overnight flight from Buenos Aires. The flight was scheduled for about 10.5 hours, but I think the actual flight time was closer to 9.5 Although we have not done a lot of flying back and forth between South America, I can say that one of the biggest benefits of flying down there and back is that we don’t have a huge time zone adjustment. Usually, when you fly 9-12 hours on a plane, you can expect to either cross the international date line (ugh, usually the longest body clock/time adjustment) or be in a much different time zone. On this trip, we’ve only ever had to adjust by an hour at most. This also made it much easier to manage Pookster and her sleep, as she never really needed to “adjust.” Oftentimes when I chat with other parents of young children, they always complain and say that they are terrified of dealing with a time zone difference with their babies/toddlers and they don’t want to waste an entire week adjusting to the new time zone. Well, here’s one way to get out of it: fly from the U.S. down to a South American country, stat!

Argentine beef is world renowned. The beautiful image we have in our heads of cows in Argentina is that they graze freely on the vast Pampas (fertile Argentine grass-covered plains) and live a happy, idyllic life before eventually becoming your steak dinner. Cattles were first brought to Argentina back in the 1530s by Spanish conquistadors. Due to the geography of the Pampas and what was then a small national market, the cattle multiplied rapidly, and so started the Argentine beef market.

A friend’s husband visited Argentina about two decades ago and still talks about how the beef he ate while in Argentina was the best steak of his life. He said he couldn’t describe what made it tastier, but that he always held it in high regard. Unfortunately, the beef we have enjoyed while here is likely very different from the beef he had over 20 years ago while visiting Buenos Aires. Since the mid-2000s, feed lots have grown exponentially in Argentina due to government subsidies aimed at increasing beef production to meet the growing demand, both domestically and internationally. With feed lots, they are exactly what you would imagine they are based on their name: you line up hundreds, if not thousands, of cows in cramped, tight quarters, and constantly feed them endless grain and soy until they plump up and mature enough to be slaughtered for meat. They are basically “the way” cows are raised in the U.S. and even in Europe for human consumption. But for the longest time, Argentina resisted them because they were particular about their beef’s taste and texture. In the end, with government subsidies, it became hard for farmers to say no and continue raising cows the traditional Argentine way.

If cows aren’t moving the same or eating the same as they were pre-feed lots, it would be easy to guess that the meat no longer tastes or feels the same. Beef from grass-fed cows generally will have a more intense flavor and a different texture, which makes sense because you are what you eat, and, well, we are what we eat and what they eat.

It made me sad to read this before our trip, but I figured we would still inevitably eat beef and would take what we could get. We had beef on a number of occasions in Buenos Aires, including at the all-you-can-eat Siga La Vaca in Puerto Madero, as well as during our last dinner at Dandy Grill.

Siga La Vaca was quite a value meal, as it’s known to be an all-you-can-eat parrilla experience. Adults eat for about 25,900 pesos, while kids under 7 are free (yet they still get a free drink — we chose bottled water — and their own dessert!!). This price includes your choice of beverage as well as one dessert per person. We told our server that we’d like a glass of red wine each. She came back with an entire bottle of Malbec, which she uncorked and poured into glasses for us! I was pretty shocked and was wondering if we’d get a bill for a bottle later, but that never came.

Siga La Vaca has plenty of prepared foods, ranging from breaded, fried milanesa to various pastas, rices, and salads. But the real draw here is grilled meat. They have various cuts of beef, chicken, and pork (plus their intestines), along with diagrams of all three animals so you know what you are getting when you go to the grill counter. We got a few different cuts, ranging from strip steak (bife angosto) to sirloin (bife de lomo), and several cuts of chicken and pork. I will say that the beef is notably chewier than back in the U.S. It’s true what they say: Argentine beef just has more of a bite, and that’s an acquired taste/texture if you are used to very tender meat. It was enjoyable, especially with the red-hued chimichurri sauce they gave us. I’m not sure what put this meal (and the bargain price we paid) more over the top: the fact that we had unlimited beef, an entire bottle of wine included in our meal cost, or the three generous desserts we got. There were a number of options, and in the end, we chose the chocolate mousse/ice cream, Argentine bread pudding (budin de pan), and flan. Unfortunately for Pookster, we didn’t let her eat an entire dessert on her own, but she definitely had her sugar fix that evening…. if not for the rest of the year.

While I loved the flan (and it was exactly as I imagined it, since I’ve eaten and made quite a bit of flan in my life to date), I will say that the budin de pan was not what I expected at all, but in a good and tasty way. Argentines do not make bread pudding the way we do in the U.S. or Australia. Yes, the core of it is still the same: you take stale (usually white) bread, milk, eggs, and a sweetener, but the execution and presentation is totally different. In the U.S., bread pudding would usually be made individually served in little ramekins/cups or in a large sheet/tray and then sliced per person. The presentation is very rustic or “homemade” in that it doesn’t have a fancy presentation. To contrast, at restaurants or bakeries/cafes in Buenos Aires, bread puddings are served shaped almost exactly like mini flans, unmolded onto a plate, with its caramel oozing down its sides. When the server brought our desserts to the table, initially, I wasn’t actually sure which was the flan and which was the budin de pan. Budin de pan has a lighter but tighter texture because the bread is either cubed much smaller than the average bread pudding in the U.S., or in some cases, the bread is completely blitzed to the point of bread crumbs. In that sense, it really does taken on a pudding like texture. This is how the budin de pan was at Siga La Vaca. It was really delicious with a sweet caramelized sugar top that was slightly crunchy, yet continued to provocatively ooze down onto the side.

At Dandy Grill for our last dinner in Argentina before heading home, we ordered the ojo de bife (the rib eye, which actually is not that popular of a steak cut here in Argentina). It was delicious and juicy, but definitely felt more lean and chewy than the average ribeye you’d order back in the U.S. What I’d say were the standouts at Dandy Grill were a) the cocktails — the fresco de maracuya and the pisco sour (why not while still in South America?) were just sweet and tart enough, and very refreshing; and b) holy crap, the DESSERTS. We ordered the tiramisu and the merengata, an Argentine dessert made of chopped meringue, dulce de leche (of course), whipped cream, mixed berries, and vanilla ice cream. Both servings were far larger than we anticipated, and both were a dessert lover’s dream. This tiramisu was ethereally light – you could barely even detect any lady fingers in there. It wasn’t too sweet and had a really nice balance of sweet, creamy, and a tad bit bitter with the coffee liqueur flavor throughout and the generous dusting of cocoa powder on top. This was likely the best and most impressive tiramisu I’ve had in my life to date. No photo could do this tiramisu justice. I tried to photograph it at different angles, but the photo was just incapable of capturing the taste and texture of this perfect tiramisu. The merengata was also incredible and something I’d order again if I could. I normally do not love meringues, but I thought we’d order this since it’s unique to Argentina, and we’d never heard of it before. It was a good choice: this meringue didn’t have that strange, dry mouth feel I usually associate with meringues and just melted in my mouth after a tiny crunch in each bite. The combination of dulce de leche, whipped cream, berries, and ice cream complemented the meringue perfectly. I was totally obsessed with these desserts and will likely still be thinking about them long after we return home.