An Independence Day full of “traditional foods”

For most of our years together, Chris and I have enjoyed celebrating Independence Day here in the U.S. by getting the hell out of this country and exploring a beautiful land elsewhere. Last year, we were miserably stuck in New York because of the still-raging COVID-19, but this year, we spent it exploring Houston, and when I say “exploring,” I really mean exploring all the delicious, multicultural food that makes Houston so colorful to me.

We started the day with a drive to Bellaire Blvd, which is known for having miles and miles of endless Vietnamese businesses ranging from medical, dental, and legal practices to of course, endless Vietnamese markets, bakeries, and restaurants. Chris found us a spot that was the epitome of every delicious Vietnamese bakery in San Jose and Westminster, California: it had an endless array of Vietnamese desserts (che), banh mi and drinks, and Central Vietnamese snacks laboriously steamed and wrapped in banana leaves such as banh bot loc (tapioca dumplings filled with shrimp), banh beo (disc-shaped steamed rice dumplings topped with scallion oil and shredded dried shrimp), and banh it tran (one of my all-time favorite snacks growing up that my mom would purchase in Vietnamese bakeries: boiled glutinous rice balls stuffed with mashed mung beans, minced pork and shrimp, topped with shredded shrimp, fried shallots, and scallion oil). When I walked in, I felt literally paralyzed by all the options we had. I had no idea where to even start because I really wanted at least one of everything.

In the end, I ended up getting a chicken banh mi, an iced coffee, and an banh gio (a steamed rice tamale stuffed with minced shiitake mushrooms, wood ear mushrooms, pork, and a quail egg). It was a bit early, so I decided we didn’t have enough room to get dessert even though I really wanted some che and pandan tofu. THIS PLACE MAKES THEIR OWN FRESH TOFU. Fresh tofu is one of my biggest loves; few things top freshly made, hot, steamy tofu for me. The food was all delicious from here, but I still really wanted to try their dessert.

For lunch, we went to an Indian spot and had some delicious lamb biryani, saag paneer, and a steamed salmon spiced and wrapped in a banana leaf. The portions everywhere we went were huge; we had so much food leftover.

And for dinner, we ended our 4th of July at an Ethiopian spot in a somewhat residential neighborhood: we shared a huge platter of different Ethiopian lentils, vegetables, and meat stews. Next to South Asian lentils, Ethiopian lentils, especially the split peas, are one of my very favorite bean preparations. But what stood out to me the most was the injera itself: the server asked if we wanted injera or teff injera. I was a bit confused because I always assumed *all* injera had teff, the Ethiopian grain that gave the injera bread its distinct sour taste. The server explained that injera did have teff, but teff injera had even more teff, and therefore was more authentic and expensive to make, so it would incur an upcharge. We chose the teff injera, and I had zero regrets: it was a deep, dark brown color, far darker than the tan-colored injeras I’d previously had. And it had such a rich, sour, distinct flavor. I was obsessed with this bread and just wanted to eat more of it. That entire meal was ridiculously good.

Vietnamese, Indian, and Ethiopian food – just what the founding fathers would have approved of to celebrate the Fourth of July!

Black Wall Street

When I was young and exposed to dolls, TV, and the media, what I perceived to be normal was that the dolls I had were all White, except one doll that had stiff limbs I couldn’t move very easily, wearing a cheongsam/qipao/traditional Chinese dress. The people on TV and throughout the media were White. There were “Black tv shows” and “White tv shows.” There wasn’t much in between. If I wanted to see anyone who looked like me, I had to watch my grandma’s Cantonese soap operas. But they all spoke Cantonese or some variation of Chinese; they didn’t speak the American English that I mainly spoke. Without even realizing it then, my exposure to the world was very segregated. There was a Black world and a White world. A world that included people like me didn’t exist on TV or in newspapers.. unless you included Jackie Chan in martial arts movies or fully token Chinese stories like that depicted in the movie The Joy Luck Club.

I wish I had read books that taught me about history as it really was, not how white-washed this country wanted to make it for me. I wish I had read children’s stories of kids who made friends with people of different backgrounds or sexual orientation to normalize it more. I wish I had read stories about topics such as Black Wall Street, which I now see kids’ books being written and illustrated about. In fact, how sad: I didn’t learn about Black Wall Street until last year. I vaguely heard about the Tulsa Race Massacres in school, but it was such a vague reference; it was never made a focal point in learning. It didn’t tie to the concept of “Black Wall Street” and that there was once a very wealthy, culturally rich area called Greenwood in Tulsa, Oklahoma, that people considered an economic and cultural mecca of its time…. until a white mob decided to burn these buildings to the ground and kill every black person in sight then. We visited this area today in Tulsa. It’s hard to imagine this entire area up in flames. It just gave me chills thinking about it.

No reparations have been paid for the damage done to that area of Tulsa. Many members of our government ignore that that even happened or that it holds any significance to this day. But that’s the problem with this country: people, especially those in power, who ignore our past and do not realize that not understanding and acknowledging our history is only to the detriment of our current and future generations. We never move forward unless we reconcile with the past and learn from the past. And that’s a really sad thing in a country full of people who are willfully ignorant to the past, who just say “that was then; this is now,” or “Slavery was in the past; get over it.” You hear that a lot today: “get over it,” “forget about it” “look forward.” About four years ago, a German colleague from Germany told me that in school, they constantly had it beat into their heads that Germany “fucked up big time” with Nazism and that they could never forget what they perpetrated against Jews, against the elderly, the disabled, the non-Whites in Germany; somehow, that concept doesn’t resonate here with slavery, Jim Crow laws, and ongoing systemic racism as a result of all that crap. Instead, we’re supposed to teach kids that the U.S. is perfect, the country everyone else wants to be — truly exceptional.

Yes, we are quite exceptional… truly exceptional in our denial of racism and our past and its connection to the present.

Oklahoma City bombing

I was only nine years old when the Oklahoma City bombing occurred in April 1995. I don’t think I started paying attention to the news in great detail until I was at least a sophomore in high school, but I always knew when the worst and most awful events happened because my dad could be heard every morning in the kitchen, loudly talking over his freshly brewed coffee about the latest shooting, car jacking, bombing he was reading in the San Francisco Chronicle — really, anything that was bad and criminal, my dad could be heard with his blaring voice as I woke up for yet another day of school. He always thought he spoke at a regular volume, but anyone who is remotely “normal” would know my dad has a loud voice, where even his whisper is likely louder than your regular speaking voice volume.

At the time, the Oklahoma City bombing, perpetrated mainly by one white American psychotic loser, with the assistance of another white American psychotic idiot, was the deadliest terrorist attack in the U.S. until the 9/11 attacks. 168 people died, including many children in the day care center at the federal building, and over 680 people were left injured, many missing limbs and left permanently blind or deaf. An entire memorial and museum has been built at the site of the bombing that we visited yesterday afternoon after our Oklahoma barbecue experience; even the church across the street built a “Jesus wept” statue, in which Jesus is turning away in horror and anguish from the memorial site.

Going through the memorial site and the museum was a depressing experience, a reminder of exactly how blind about half of this country is to the dangers that we’re really facing. I felt mostly fury the entire time — against our media, idiot citizens who are blind to the truth, certain family members who think people of color and people coming in illegally from Mexico or Central Ameriac are the *real* problem. While half of this country believes that this country’s greatest threat is at the southern border, with “illegals” entering this country and supposedly stealing our country’s resources, the real truth is that one of the greatest threats to our safety and well being is homegrown white American terrorism, as exhibited during the January 6 riots at the Capitol; it’s already been reported multiple times by the FBI. And this is almost always tied to one huge concept that many people deny could possibly be true: white supremacy. We all know the only reason those people weren’t shot and killed or blown to pieces was because the vast majority of those people were white. If they were black or brown, the police wouldn’t have hesitated to kill them all in a single blow. Timothy McVeigh, the main perpetrator of the Oklahoma City bombing, has since served as a model and a “martyr” to many aspiring domestic terrorists, as many websites, online and offline groups have formed who look to him as their inspiration for blowing up this country, for uniting against the U.S. government and eliminating all non-White people from our society.

In some ways, with a memorial and museum being built to honor the victims of this awful bombing, this site has potentially glorified Timothy McVeigh even more and made him an even bigger aspirational figure to white supremacists everywhere here. How depressing.

46th state

Today, we visited my 46th state and Chris’s 47th state — Oklahoma! When I’ve shared with friends and colleagues that Oklahoma would be the first stop on our southern travel itinerary, most asked “Why?” or wondered “huh?” when it came to how this was part of our plan. Since visiting Arkansas in 2010 to visit my friend who was living there, and during that trip, doing a day trip to Memphis, Tennessee, my desire was sparked to see every U.S. state and every presidential library. I’m getting closer and closer to that goal; now, I’ve just got Indiana, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Alaska left. Chris has already seen Indiana since he used to go there for work all the time, so he is one state ahead of me.

What few people are aware of regarding Oklahoma — well, a lot of things, but the first things that come to mind: 1) it has a relatively large Vietnamese population, and it arguably has more homely Vietnamese restaurants and bakeries than New York City; in fact, I would say it DEFINITELY has the types of bakeries and shops you’d be more likely to see in Westminster or San Jose, California, than in New York, where you can get Vietnamese baked snacks, pastries, and even freshly made Vietnamese candies and cookies. I don’t even think New York has a Vietnamese bakery period, unless you count the handful of subpar banh mi shops. And 2) Oklahoma has its own barbecue culture. While certain areas of the U.S. such as Texas or Kansas or the Carolinas are well known for their barbecue culture, Oklahoma is quite under the radar. The way that people tend to characterize the Oklahoma style is a cross between Texas and Kansas City: The way the meats are prepared and smoked is like Texas, while the sauces are more tomato-y like in Kansas City. I’m not a huge barbecue sauce fan, so I stick with the meats as they are. As a friend of ours says, “You don’t eat barbecue for the sauce. You eat it for the meat. If you want the sauce, then just eat the sauce!”

We went to a spot that is quite popular and well known called Clark Crew BBQ, and it definitely impressed, not just for the quality of the meats, but also for the serving sizes of the vegetable sides we got. We started with an appetizer many Yelpers raved about, which I’ve never seen at a BBQ spot before: deviled eggs! And I’m so happy I ordered these: the deviled eggs had just the right level of creaminess and savoriness, all balanced by a small crispy piece of bacon on top, plus a slice of pickle on the bottom — a very well rounded bite! Then, we had brisket, ribs, and chopped pork, all of which were lip-smackingly delicious. The two sides we got were the coleslaw and the grilled broccoli — the portions were HUGE! The coleslaw wasn’t swimming in mayo, thankfully, and had a good level of crunch and sourness — it was likely the best coleslaw I’ve ever had anywhere that wasn’t homemade. And the grilled broccoli, which also got rave reviews, really was super tasty: grilled to perfection with bits of char, this broccoli very likely was grilled on the same grates that the meat was cooked on. Chris insisted that the broccoli had a meaty flavor, so it was no wonder so many people insisted that this was a must-order. How often do you go to a barbecue place where they tell you that a VEGETABLE is a must-eat?! Lastly, the cornbread was a bit too much on the sweet side, so that was the one tiny downside of the meal. But overall, we loved our experience at Clark Crew BBQ and would highly recommend it to anyone visiting Oklahoma City. We also loved that the portion sizes for the meat weren’t so overwhelming. While we did have some leftovers, it was mostly our sides, and lucky us, as we have both a microwave and a fridge at our hotel.

Global Entry and TSE Pre-Check

My Global Entry status expired earlier this year, and given we had no idea when we would get vaccinated at the beginning of the year to be safe enough to get on a plane, I didn’t jump to renew it before the expiry date. When we finally did become fully vaccinated in May, Chris scheduled my Global Entry interview (part of the application process, even with renewals, unfortunately), but there were long waits and the earliest we could get was the last week of June. The plus side is that I didn’t need to go to the airport to do the interview in person, and instead, I was able to do a Zoom interview with a Customs Border Patrol officer. I did this on Sunday, and it lasted about 10 minutes with the usual routine questions (verify identity, employment, previous countries traveled to, etc.). The officer said I was approved, and it would go into effect immediately. I asked him if it would be as immediate as applying to my domestic flight this Thursday, and he said yes.

So I checked into my flight this morning, and when the AA app generated my boarding passes, the TSA pre-check symbol did not appear. Red flag. I thought he said this was immediately in effect? I double checked my TSA pre-check number, checked the website to ensure I was definitely re-approved. Everything looked good. So I called AA and asked them to check for me. After 15 minutes on hold after verifying my full name (no name changes, right?), date of birth, and Global Entry number, they got me back on the line and asked me to delete the current boarding passes and regenerate them after refreshing the app. Phew — thankfully this worked, and my TSE pre-check was reinstated. I would have been really pissed if I had gotten this interview done and was approved, and somehow there was a “waiting period” for it actually go into effect.

The experience of going through a regular non-priority, non-pre-check line in May was NOT fun. Chris kept making fun of me and calling me a pleb because he was able to get his Global Entry renewed in time for that trip. I never want to go through that again. Who wants to voluntarily take off their shoes and separate all their electronics and toiletry bag…?!

Week 16 – pregnancy observations of self to date

I cannot believe I am in week 16 of pregnancy. Every morning I wake up, and I’m so grateful to be pregnant, to have had no complications to date other than the vanished twin. It honestly just feels like a miracle to me every single day that I am pregnant. Fingers crossed that things will continue to progress smoothly.

A few things I’ve noticed about myself since getting pregnant:

*Stretch marks around both hips

*Rapidly growing nails and hair

*Sensitivity to and sometimes total disgust of certain fish smells, both raw and cooked

*Near immediate bloating when drinking some carbonated drinks, like kombucha

*Sensitive and increasingly heavy-feeling breasts (which are obviously growing)

Food cravings to date:

*Matzo ball soup, egg salad, bagels (this must be the inner converted Jew in me since I’ve lived in New York for 13 years now)

*Rice noodles, especially the flat ones… or really noodles of all types; beef chow fun/gan chao niu he especially

*BREAD, especially sourdough — the Bourke Street Bakery special for Father’s Day, the bacon, garlic confit, and sage sourdough REALLY hit the spot

*GRAPEFRUIT — this is probably the most refreshing fruit I’ve had during pregnancy, the one where my mouth literally waters every time I have a bite. Interestingly enough, it’s been far more satisfying to eat a grapefruit anytime this period vs. a mango, which is supposed to be my favorite fruit… I feel like I’ve almost cheated on mangoes with just this feeling.

Changing breasts

As pregnancy has progressed, my breasts have really taken on a life of their own. Not only have I been unable to recognize them in the mirror sometimes, but they’ve also been growing and have taken on their own sensitivities. In the last couple of weeks when I’ve woken up, the first thought I have based on how it feels to physically get out of bed is “Ughhhhhhhhh, why do my boobs feel so HEAVY?!” It finally got to a point where I decided I needed to wear a bra to sleep, so I started wearing one of my more supportive sports bras to sleep. Sleeping with a bra is fine as long as it doesn’t have an underwire, and as I’ve learned through reading different pregnancy guides and sites, underwires are really all pregnant/postpartum women’s worst enemies.

I finally decided to purchase some maternity/nursing bras today and stop putting off buying maternity wear given the breasts have been crying out for help, so I purchased three of these bras that are supposed to expand with me. We’ll see how it goes. When people generally think of pregnancy, they think of all the baby-related things to buy, but they don’t necessarily think of all the things the growing, pregnant mom needs. I’m trying to be practical about what I purchase, at least as much as possible, because I want to minimize the things I can wear/use only while pregnant and at least ensure I can use them postpartum/during nursing, and with clothing, that it can be used even while out of the pregnant/postpartum period if possible. It’s not going to be possible for things like belly bands unfortunately, but hopefully with most other things, they can be multi-functional.

When your mom still treats you like you are 6

After my doctor’s appointment yesterday, Chris quickly rushed home to get to his next meeting. Since I was on the Upper East Side, I decided to text my friend who lives in the area for a quick coffee date, especially since the weather was so nice outside. We sat outside for a couple hours and caught up on life, health, and politics.

I eventually walked home and decided to call my mom to let her know how my appointment went. Pretty much every call we’ve had during the pandemic has included her warning me not to go anywhere by myself because “the world is getting worse” with all the hate crimes against Asians and the increased shootings since the beginning of this calendar year. When I told her I was walking home, she asked if Chris was with me, and I said no. She asked why not. I said I went to go meet a friend after my appointment.

Well, that was a mistake.

“What friend? Why are you meeting a friend? Is it (insert name of friend she knows in New York)?”

I wasn’t rolling my eyes, but I certainly was on the inside. I told her that the friend lived near the doctor’s office so we just met up for lemonade. No, it was not the one friend she is aware of.

She starts making the sound with her voice, indicating she’s annoyed and unhappy. “Who is this friend? Why are you meeting with them? How do you know them? You need to be careful! You don’t know who to trust!”

Yeah… I don’t have to answer any of her questions because I am no longer in elementary school, so I just said I was already home and had to go, so I hung up. Once upon a time, she used to revel in the fact that I lived under her roof and could control my every move, that she could get the phone number of all my friends and then check in and call them behind my back after I’d see them… to double check that I really was where I said I was. My friends always told me when she’d call. She’d even say dumb things to them like, “If Yvonne does anything bad, you let me know, okay?” She even did this a few times when I was in COLLEGE.

Now, as an adult, I’ve made sure to tell her as little as possible about any friends I’ve made as an adult so she knows as little as possible about my social circles. She is always so suspicious of pretty much anyone and is constantly, constantly saying, “You can’t trust anyone.” As far as I’m concerned, that may be true… but that also extends to her given all the stuff she’s done behind my back. It’s amazing that I haven’t ended up just as paranoid and distrusting as she is today.

15-week pre-natal appointment

Every time I have an appointment, I get a little jittery and anxious beforehand. I never know what’s going to happen or if there may be bad news. Granted, I recognize nothing I will do will have any control over the outcome of the appointment, but I still get a little nervous anyway. I’m progressively less nervous than I have been since my first prenatal appointment with my OB-GYN at week 10, but the fear of the (negative) unknown still creeps in the background.

Chris and I walked across Central Park to my doctor’s office, where I was immediately checked in and given a little cup to pee in. Then, I was brought in to get my weight and blood pressure measured; luckily this time, my blood pressure was actually normal. They brought me into the sonogram room, where we waited for the NP to come.

She eventually came in with an NP in training, asked a few questions about how I was feeling, and she started my scan. The quality of the imaging here has never been great, but we could see a very rapidly moving outline of a tiny human on the ultrasound screen. The NP let us know that the baby was currently in breech position (that’s okay at 15 weeks… not so much at 35-38 weeks). She measured the baby’s heart beat, which was in range, and also said she was measuring at about 4 inches long, which is also normal for this gestational age. This week, the baby is currently the size of a navel orange — my little orange baby.

Everything was looking good, the NP confirmed, and we’re right on track. All my tests and scans have come back normal to date. The baby was likely setting a record for how active she is, as the NP said that she’s rarely seen the baby so active at this age. She was really using her hands a lot and getting to know how to use them in there!

My active little baby, I thought happily on my walk back home. Hopefully she will be fit and active like her mom. I’m hoping that all the exercise and physical activity I have been doing will be beneficial to her.

Bottom of the freezer

When you are getting ready to move, even when it’s just to another unit in the same building, it makes you start going through all your stuff and realizing how much crap you’ve accumulated since the last time you moved. Even though this will be the easiest move of our lives given it’s in the same building, I still want to cull a lot of the things we have, especially things we do not use at all. However, even with places like the freezer, stuff accumulates that you just forget about. Here are some things I found that I totally forgot about on the bottom of the freezer: minced lemongrass and chopped lemongrass stalks; Trader Joe’s frozen chicken burritos, Trader Joe’s frozen charred corn; frozen banana and pandan leaves, two frozen barramundi fillets, one frozen chicken drumstick. Some of these items already have freezer burn. That definitely sounds delicious. This is one of the fun activities that’s a part of moving — discovering food items you’ve neglected.