Winter is cold, and getting even colder, plus a secret love of boots

For years here in New York, winter hasn’t been a true “winter.” We haven’t had much snow relatively speaking due to global warming. December through March has been a milder weather period; it has always been cold, but just not as freezing as we expect. Snow has been sparse, so Kaia has had very few times to make and throw snow balls or build a snowman. But this winter, it has most definitely been cold. It snowed last weekend; the temperatures have been in the ‘teens and low twenties Fahrenheit. And Kaia is NOT a fan. As she is becoming more and more verbal by the day, she’s definitely making her opinions known.

She has protested almost every other day of boot wearing. “I don’t wanna wear boots! I wanna wear shoes!” She hates the high-top nature of the winter boots I bought her; she probably dislikes how her ankles can feel trapped in them. I can relate to that feeling, but I have since gotten used to wearing boots since moving to the East Coast.

Kaia told us multiple times this past week, “I don’t like winter. I want spring and summer. I want to wear sandals! I want it to be warm!” We agree with her; we also tell her that neither of us likes winter much, either. But winter does not last forever, and before she knows it, spring will be here, and she can shed all her thick layers and boots and wear regular shoes and dresses again.

I’ve adjusted to living in a four-season part of the country and world. I actually don’t mind it much. It does require more different types of clothing (and a very different skincare regimen in winter due to dryness!), but now that I’ve been here almost 18 years, this is my long-time current “normal.” One thing I have secretly embraced but never said out loud is that the best thing about living in a four-season place is that… I actually love boots! For someone who doesn’t like winter, this sounds kind of funny. But to be fair, most of my boots are autumn/winter boots, so it doesn’t necessarily have to be freezing cold to wear them. I still remember back in 2003 when the Wellesley recruiter came out from Boston to San Francisco, and she told me that she had at least ten pairs of boots — all for different types of cold/weather, occasion, and environment! My mind was boggled at the time when she shared this, but now, I completely understand. I myself have three different pairs of dressy boots, along with one pair of super casual, long Uggs (which I basically live in when it’s cold but not wet outside), one pair of rain/waterproof boots, and one pair of fall duck-style boots (which really need to be retired, after ten-plus years of wear, because I found out while in Denmark that one shoe has a hole in it!). So I have seven pairs of boots myself, which is kind of hilarious. I love all types of boots: I like the leather boots, the suede ones, the heeled ones, the flat ones. I like the Chelsea style boots, the tall knee-high ones, the slouch style boots, and even the chunky combat style ones. I could easily waste an hour on Nordstrom’s website staring at all their boots and wondering which ones would be comfortable and still look good in whatever weather. But then I think that if we end up moving to a warmer weather place, how often would I really wear all these boots, if at all?

Kaia doesn’t currently share my love of boots, but who knows — maybe she will embrace them as she realizes that you absolutely need these in cold weather climates. Or maybe she will shun them and refuse to ever live in a cold weather place ever again.

Cantonese style beef stew with daikon and tofu skin 萝卜腐竹牛腩

Growing up in a Cantonese household and with a Cantonese paternal grandma, I was exposed to endless Cantonese delicacies and dishes that I am sad to say, I oftentimes have forgotten about. Some dishes, like Cantonese dim sum, zongzi, or wonton mein have stayed with me as staples in my current eating life. Others have completely disappeared from my consciousness. But then I occasionally get reminded of dishes my grandma either used to make herself or would order out when we went to restaurants, whether that is through seeing pictures and videos on social media or by looking at restaurant menus, and then I am taken back to those delicious moments of food discovery and appreciation.

One of the dishes my grandma never made at home, but my dad always loved ordering for lunch at casual Cantonese restaurants, was Cantonese style beef stew, usually served in a claypot with rice, and almost always with braised daikon. Occasionally, some restaurants would add tofu skins to their stew, but many just had different cuts of beef stew and tendon with a generous sprinkling of bok choy, and always with copious amounts of steamed rice to sop up all the delicious, umami beef stew juices. The stew was always extremely fragrant of five spice powder and star anise. It was comfort food for my dad, and then eventually it became comfort food for me. I rarely order it as an adult, as when I go to Cantonese restaurants, it really hasn’t been top of mind. But occasionally, I will get beef stew as a topping on my wonton mein, or as a small side when ordering takeout. Most places I tried were a bit disappointing — something was lacking, or the quantity of food I got was just too tiny. So I was really happy to find some recipes for this dish developed by recipe developers I follow that made me realize how easy it is to make at home with a little time. Other than the beef stew meat and daikon, I usually have all the other ingredients ready in my pantry, so this recipe was beckoning me to make it! So I “gave it a go” yesterday, and the result far exceeded any version I’ve had in New York to date! Variations of this will be on rotation in our home moving forward. Chris ate some and declared it “not bad, pretty good,” which is his version of a glowing compliment. Kaia did not say anything about the stew, but she did quickly and eagerly eat all the beef stew pieces quite quickly from her plate during dinner time tonight!

A birthday kamayan feast planned

Given I never had a real birthday party growing up, other than the one that one of my besties threw me for my sixteenth birthday, I figure that my 40th birthday coming up tomorrow will be the one party that I actually get to throw myself. I found the perfect restaurant for it, Patok by Rach, up in their cozy Inwood location, complete with a large tree growing inside and a kamayan feast. Kamayan is a traditional Filipino celebratory meal that symbolizes community, camaraderie, and cultural heritage. Large banana leaves are laid out across tables where guests sit, and the food is served directly on top. It traditionally will include dishes like pork BBQ, chicken inasal, kare kare stew, different types of lumpia, lechon (with crispy skin!), freshly fried shrimp chips and fruit. I’ve had it a few times before with my cousin’s wife’s family, as well as for a friend’s birthday dinner in lower Manhattan. I just love the idea of everyone being surrounded by endless food served on banana leaves, directly on the table, and eating and drinking to their heart’s content. That’s ultimately why I chose this place — not to mention the deal we got on this space, and to have the entire restaurant booked out, seemed almost like robbery!

I think every birthday is special because it’s another year around the sun, another year when I get to continue experiencing life and all that it has to offer. But I haven’t had a group birthday dinner since pre-pandemic. It’s mostly just been Chris, Kaia, and me in the last few years — nothing big or splashy. But this year, one of my besties is flying in from San Francisco to partake in festivities. I’m using a gift certificate she got me two years ago to get my makeup professionally done tomorrow. And we have a set kamayan menu for 18 guests tomorrow night. Kaia has her babysitter lined up. I’ve never been this excited to celebrate my birthday before now! Who knows — maybe I will have so much fun that I’ll decide to do something like this (okay, maybe not at a restaurant and pay for everyone) every year from now on!.

Embracing middle-aged-dom by organizing all my Chinese herbs

Yesterday, I spent about an hour labeling glass jars in Chinese and English, and then emptying all my Chinese herbs out of their plastic bags and into the glasses. My herb bag was becoming a total mess, especially once I started buying more around the time my best friend had a baby, and I wanted to make her a few tonics. So I promised myself that once we got back from our month away that I’d finally set aside time to get all these organized. I hated the feeling of disorganization and clutter: I feel like as I’ve gotten older, I’ve gotten more annoyed and disgusted by clutter and dirtiness.

Once I got all the labeling done and the herbs into their appropriate jars, I felt this deep sense of satisfaction. This is what it means to get older: to feel satisfied about organization and cleanliness. In some way, it kind of reminded me of all the endless glass jars my grandma used to store in the cupboard at home. She had an even larger and more complex herb collection, which she used very frequently for soups and tonics for all of us. I never thought I’d ever be like her, but here we are with a growing Chinese dried herb collection that resembles hers!

I’ll be using some of these dried herbs for pork bone lotus root soup today — also a soup that she made fairly often when I was growing up. It’s a soup that reminds me of home — soothing, homey, and almost medicinal in a happy, nourishing way.

Annual visit to Sixth Avenue and the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree

It’s our last weekend in New York for the year, and today, we walked down to the 40s to check out all the beautiful festive Christmas decorations along Sixth Avenue. Chris and I have been doing this for so many years that I’ve lost count how many times we’ve done this. And now, we do it with Kaia. All the usual fun decor was there, including my beloved super-large red Christmas ball ornaments, the nutcrackers, as well as the candy canes on “ice.” Endless Christmas trees decorate fronts of corporate office buildings. And then of course, there’s the magnificent Rockefeller Christmas tree.

Every year, it doesn’t matter what time of day you go or whether it’s Saturday or Sunday, but the entire area around Sixth Avenue and Rockefeller is completely mobbed. Getting through is never fun, and it always feels claustrophobic, especially when you have a young child in tow. You walk at the pace of snails, and the crowds are just endless. But we brave it to see our favorite Christmas decorations and the gorgeous tree. Once we finally reach the tree, it always feels worth it. It really is so extravagant and gorgeous — and SO tall and large! This year’s tree was particularly fat and bushy on the bottom. I really liked how “full” its butt was. We look at it for a few minutes, snap a few selfies and act like tourists and try to see if anyone is around who can help us take a picture of all three of us. And then we head back home.

Every year, people come from the suburbs, Long Island, upstate, the tri-state area, and all over the world to see Christmas in New York. We live right here and get to enjoy it as much as we want. Every year, I am reminded of how lucky I am that I get to live in this great, big, endlessly fun metropolis. World-class performances like the New York City Ballet’s The Nutcracker happen just three blocks from where I live. The best performers in the world come through here every single day. The food and culture here just defines diversity. New York does the festive season really, really well. And I’m so happy to call New York City my home.

Day trip to Malmo, Sweden

While looking at day trips near Copenhagen, Chris looked at the map and noticed that we could visit Sweden on a quick 40-minute train ride, so we decided to do this on Friday. Malmo is a coastal city in southern Sweden, and lots of people take the train across a bridge-tunnel running between Copenhagen and Malmo. Malmo is quite small and quaint, with a population of about 340,000 people. We spent the day walking around the city, visiting its single Christmas market, even buying several pairs of pants that were on sale for Kaia at H&M (since Sweden is H&M’s headquarters), and ending the day with a visit to the Disgusting Food Museum.

We walked through a large local park and made a quick stop at Slottstradgardens Kafe, which definitely evoked the “fika” vibe that Sweden is globally famous for. I learned about the concept of fika when a small chain of Swedish cafes opened in New York in the 2010s. Fika is like Denmark’s “hygge” in that it’s a concept for taking a break for a coffee/tea and snack, while also relaxing and enjoying time with friends, family, or colleagues, and having meaningful conversation. It’s considered an important part of the day (often happening twice in the day) that refreshes the mind and strengthens relationships. We came in when the cafe was not yet officially opened, but the manager was so warm and hospitable that she still invited us to sit down and order anything that was ready. We just wanted some hot drinks, so we got a flat white and a large inviting cup of mumma, which is a traditional Swedish Christmas spiced mixed drink. It’s traditionally alcoholic with a blend of a dark beer, light beer or ale, and a fortified wine. But the version the cafe was serving was non-alcoholic and made of apples, so it was like almost like a spiced, very thinned out apple sauce with some citrus thrown in. It was really soothing, especially since it was chilly outside. The whole vibe and decor, together with the warm hospitality of the manager, was all about the fika, and a very nice welcome to Sweden.

A highlight of our visit to Malmo was their public library. We’ve visited a lot of different libraries across the world, but this library definitely takes the cake when it comes to how warm and welcoming it is to young children and families. There’s a very colorful entry way for children, which even includes a (much lower height – watch your head!) entrance that Kaia happily ran through. It requires everyone who enters the area either remove their shoes or put on shoe coverings (so that the babies can crawl around and not worry about dirt). The floor is fully carpeted in thick, warm, brightly colored carpeting. And there are numerous rooms with books in a large array of languages, organized by age level. Age-appropriate-by-room play and reading spaces have been built, which include tunnels, bean bags, jumpy spaces, and endless stuffed animals and little friends. In the restroom, there is an adult toilet and a toddler toilet, with ample space for changing baby diapers. To really top it off to show how welcoming they are, there’s even a little kitchen area where you can prepare bottles and re-heat food. I’ve never been in a library where food and beverage were welcome!

For lunch, we stopped at a more locals’ spot for Swedish meatballs served with a rich cream sauce, topped with generous lingonberries and served with little potatoes. I remember having Swedish meatballs at Ikea and another restaurant and thinking that other than the lingonberries, this would be a pretty easy dish to re-create. But then I thought about how much heavy cream the authentic recipes use, and I wasn’t sure I’d be that comfortable having that much heavy cream-based sauce in the house; I’d rather have someone else make it for me. The meatballs are traditionally half pork, half beef (or veal); these were 100 percent pork, and they were dense and well seasoned, perfect for today’s wintery weather.

One funny thing that Chris was not very thrilled about was that all the “glogg” served at the Christmas market was non-alcoholic. Chris subsequently found out that Sweden does not allow alcoholic drinks in public areas. While it was not ideal and was likely the only Christmas market ever we’d been to where we’d had non-alcoholic mulled “wine,” the one cup we did get of hot apple must was topped with a really delicious vegan whipped cream that was made from a base of lentils. If you didn’t tell me beforehand, I never would have guessed that it was not real cream, nor that it was made from lentils!

Sweden is also the home of Oatly. Swedish people, as we were told at the Disgusting Food Musuem, absolutely love their dairy and all things like it. So when we were served lactose-free milk after tasting all the disgusting foods during the tastings portion of our visit, we were both shocked to taste how delicious and creamy it was… even without the lactose. If there’s a place that is very plant-based/focused and friendly, it is definitely Sweden.

A day off with snow flurries, freezing temperatures, lots of cooking, and scooting

Since I started at my current company, I’ve had Veteran’s day off the last six years. No other company I’ve ever worked at gave me Veteran’s Day off. I suppose it’s one way to be “inclusive,” but what that ultimately means is that other days off I would hope to get don’t happen, such as New Year’s Eve. That is not a federal holiday, but every company before this current one gave that day off. These days, I have to request that day off officially. Now that Kaia is in preschool, she also gets that day off, so she was at home with us today. She woke up in our bed after creeping over to us a few hours before wake-up time and got excited to see tiny snowflakes falling from the sky.

“What is that falling from the sky, Mama?” Kaia asked, pointing out the window.

“It’s snow, Pookie!” I exclaimed. “Tiny little snowflakes falling down!”

Today, I made a bunch of things to feed the family: browned butter buttermilk oatmeal pancakes using toasted and ground steel-cut oats, my remaining buttermilk, and a bit of browned butter for extra toastiness. Both Chris and Kaia enjoyed these pancakes; they are likely the tastiest (but alas, most laborious) oatmeal pancakes I’ve ever made. So these will definitely be on rotation. I am very much in the “clean out the pantry and fridge” mode right now, so that ticked off using up my remaining buttermilk and most of my small amount of remaining steel-cut oats. That was followed by Eleven Madison Park style granola (which Kaia diligently picked out all the dried sour cherries from her portion…), Thai green curry with chicken and tofu using homemade stock from the bone bag in my freezer, leftover cut-up firm tofu, and pre-frozen cubes of green curry that I doctored up; plus, Thai-style papaya salad with the green papaya I got for super cheap at Apna Bazaar in Connecticut weeks ago! I even made the dough for my once/twice-a-year challah and left it to proof in the fridge overnight. I am planning for us to eat one loaf now, and then I’ll freeze the second loaf to await us in 2026 when we return from the Southern Hemisphere.

Kaia impatiently waited for me to finish shaving the papaya so that I could take her to Lincoln Center plaza for some scooting around. She is definitely mastering her scooter (minus some awkward turns), and she is gaining confidence using it. She loves riding it around and around the plaza reflecting pool, and then she likes to take breaks to pick up fallen autumn leaves and pebbles, pretending to “make pesto for mama.” She says she loves pesto pasta and wants to share it with me. This is her new thing whenever we’re in the Lincoln Center plaza together, with her intermittently scooting and then taking breaks to stir the special pesto pasta she makes for me in her imaginary kitchen.

We have about 2.5 weeks remaining in New York City this year. There is a lot left to do, lots of ingredients to use up, and plans still to be made. Every year seems to fly by quicker than the last, but I guess that’s how you know you are definitely getting older. I’m almost ending my 40th year, as Chris would say, yet I don’t feel close to slowing down even a bit just yet!

January

Before moving to New York City, January was just like every other month of the year – the beginning of the year, yes, but not much change in terms of weather, routine, and things to do. Since I’ve moved here, every January seems so dreary, especially after I come back from sunny Australia or more temperate San Francisco. It’s snowy, windy, freezing, and miserable. The skies are relentlessly grey, and no one wants to walk on the streets unless they are rushing from one warm, heated place to another.

January is also my birth month. In 12 days, I am turning 28 years old. Maybe it’s because of the dreary New York winters, but for the most part since I have moved here, I don’t particularly look forward to my birthday. I have felt awkward even telling people it’s my birthday or asking them to celebrate it with me. The older I get, the less attention I seem to want. And the things I’d want to wear on my birthday I usually cannot wear because it’s too cold, or I’d have to freeze in transit to getting to my final destinations. My ideal birthday would be in a sunny, hot, blue-skied place, with just a few people, and not a lot of fuss. Oh, and a cake. And Ed. Ed should be there, too.