A gem of a bakery in Ridgewood, Queens

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We had our brunch date with my friend and her husband today, and given our babysitter cancelled on us and all our backups were occupied, we took Kaia with us to Ridgewood, Queens, where the restaurant is. It ended up working out really well because Kaia had such a nice surprise treat at a local bakery we visited.

Rudy’s Pastry Shop is an institution in Ridgewood and has been around since about 1934. They started out as a German bakery back then, but now they do a whole array of different, delicious cakes and pastries (even including gluten free!). Chris found out about it and added to our to-try list. We came in for the cannoli and alfajores. I knew this would be a good spot for cannoli once I saw an entire glass case full of unfilled cannoli shells. YES, cannolis should be filled to order for freshness and for the shell to stay crisp! We got a large chocolate dipped one, which includes mini chocolate chips stirred in the fresh ricotta filling. We have had a number of incredible cannolis in New York, most notably off Arthur Avenue in the Bronx and in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, but now, we have an excellent spot in Queens to add to our cannoli list! This one had perfectly whipped ricotta with just enough sweetness; the shell was thin, really crisp, and had the perfect crunchy texture. Even Kaia, who usually doesn’t like “cheesy” things, kept dipping her finger into the ricotta and eating more and more of it. And of course, she loved the cannoli shell.

Rudy’s has a comfortable seating area towards the back of the bakery, where we sat down briefly to enjoy our oversized cannoli. Behind us, there was a small table of elementary school-aged kids and some adults, piping cupcakes with pastry piping bags and topping them with sprinkles. I thought it was such a cute activity and figured they must be participating in some mini class organized by the bakery. But then out of nowhere, the owner Toni came by and asked if Kaia would like a mini cupcake piping lesson. She asked if my toddler would prefer vanilla or chocolate. Of course, we said Kaia would love chocolate. Kaia’s face lit up like a little bulb, as she heard she was getting a chocolate cupcake! With that, Toni came over to our table with a chocolate cupcake, a little piping bag already filled with fresh buttercream, a cup of rainbow sprinkles, and a to-go cupcake container. And just like that, Kaia had her very first cupcake/frosting piping lesson with this very sweet and kind owner; if only I had recorded more of her facial expressions when Toni came and presented the cupcake, the piper, and the rainbow sprinkles on our table!! Toni was so sweet, showing her patiently how to pipe and control the tip. She talked through the motions and guided Kaia’s fingers along the piping bag to pipe just the right amount of buttercream frosting onto the top of the cupcake. Shockingly, this whole experience and all the ingredients were totally on the house! Toni just kept saying how much the kids love it, and so she loves doing this for them. She said it wasn’t just a business; it was about building community. We were so touched.

I am grateful for the kindness and generosity of the owner of Rudy’s Pastry Shop. We’ve never had this type of hospitality in any establishment with Kaia to date. Kaia has been given endless freebies, little treats, and kindnesses pretty much everywhere that we’ve repeatedly been shocked by. But this one, single experience truly takes the cake (literally)! When we’re back in Ridgewood, we will most definitely be back here. I’d also love to come back and try their famous Black Forest cake, which seems to get rave reviews. When I realized their Black Forest cake was one of their signature items, it actually made me a little sad because I remember how much Ed liked this cake. I always thought the cake was overrated, but maybe it was because I never had a really good one? But I have a feeling that Rudy’s makes it the way it’s supposed to be, in classic German fashion.

Babysitter cancels, and all back-ups are unavailable

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We had plans to have brunch in Ridgewood, Queens, this Saturday with my friend and her husband. They planned to leave their two kids at home with my friend’s mom while they caught up with us. When Chris heard this, he said that it felt uneven and that we should get a babysitter, too, so that we could actually enjoy brunch. I hesitated, but I figured it wouldn’t be the worst idea to have a different babysitting experience and get one during the day time. So I asked our usual babysitter several weeks ago, and she agreed to come.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out. She texted on Tuesday, saying a “family emergency” came up, and she wouldn’t be available that day anymore. Granted, she could easily have lied and just got an invite to the Hamptons or Jersey Shore, but regardless, she was not going to be free, and that was all I really needed to know.

I immediately texted my second babysitter backup. She said she already had plans and wouldn’t be free until past 4pm. I told Chris this, and he contacted his babysitter contact, who ended up being out of town. Finally, I texted a former daycare teacher if she could babysit, but she actually works her regular job on Saturdays now! So we’re totally out of luck. In the end, we’ll have to take Kaia to brunch with us… and likely give her more screen time at the table than we’d ideally like.

Oh, the joys of lack of decent childcare options when you really need them!

Three going on thirteen and avoiding potential head injuries

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Ever since we got back from South America, it’s like we are at peak level of “three going on thirteen/three-nager” land with Kaia. Every single thing I do seems to piss her off. When I try to wake her up in the morning, she screams and cries and refuses to eat breakfast. When I want to brush her teeth or comb her hair, she screams and runs away. Even at night when I try to get her up to pee at midnight, she might let me take her to pee, but then she throws a fit when it’s time to wipe.

Today after dinner, she asked if she could do a video chat with Chris’s parents, but he said no. This was the beginning of her tantrum, and it only got worse when it was time for me to give her a shower. I stripped her while she thrashed around. And then when it was time to put her in the bathtub, she refused to stand up and tried to lie down as best as she could. I had to keep trying to protect her head so that she didn’t accidentally bash it in while tantrumming. She ended up sitting almost the entire bath. Somehow, I successfully cleaned all parts of her despite her screaming, crying, and thrashing around almost the whole time. I was pretty proud of myself.

Being a parent is rewarding, but it’s also really thankless work that can be extremely tough. In moments when she’s screaming and crying and thrashing around everywhere and almost self-inflicting bodily harm, I have to try really hard to stay centered and not flip out or just give up. All I have to say is… I have no idea how people go through these tough phases with multiple kids — no idea.

When he doesn’t visit for a long time.

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For years after Ed’s passing, whenever the date of his death anniversary or his birthday would come, I’d get this sneaking feeling that he’d come visit me. It might be in my dreams. He might come to me in some other form, whether it’s through a message sent from someone, a ray of light through the window, or a gust of wind on a street. But when it would happen, I’d know it was him. Or at least, I’d think it was him. But most of all, I always longed to see him in my dreams because that would actually feel the most real. I tend to have extremely vivid dreams, so oftentimes when I am dreaming, it legitimately feels like it’s really happening. But as the years have gone on, I realize that this delusional thought that he will “visit” really is just that — a desired delusion of mine. And as each year passes, it makes me more and more sad. As each year passes, I get older and older, further away from the age I was when my brother died, further away from knowing what it was like to really know him and love him in the flesh.

In some ways, Ed was a really easy person to love. He was eager to please. He showed love and affection easily and eagerly. He is like the youngest, most innocent children of the world with their simple desires: he just wanted love, presence, and attention. If you gave him that, or even a smidgen of a semblance of that, he’d love you forever and always treat you well. But in other ways, he was a difficult person to love, and an especially hard person to get to know. Because of his depression and anxiety, it was hard to have a really deeply felt, thoughtful conversation with him that went beyond the surface. He also didn’t want to share that much with too many people because he was scared of being judged or misunderstood (frankly, that is for good reason because people in general really suck). It was almost impossible to have a continuous, free-flowing conversation with him. But it wasn’t because he didn’t want to; it was likely more that he didn’t know how to given his lack of socialization coupled with his depression and anxiety.

I’m about a half year away from turning 40. If life worked out the way it should have, Ed would be turning 46 in about a month. I was looking at the newly whitened hairs on my head yesterday morning, thinking about how today, I likely have more white hairs on my head than Ed did at 33 going on 34 before he died. Ed had a far more stressful and turbulent life than I did. He deserved more than what he got.

Every day, I think about all the privilege I have. Most of it is due to luck and just being born in a certain place to a certain family at a certain time. A little bit of it is due to my own hard work and diligence. Even though Ed and I were born into the same exact family in the same house, frankly I had more privilege than he did. I was the second born with less pressure. I was also born a girl, and as research has shown, families tend to almost always raise girls with more love, tenderness, and affection. I was also born 6.5 years after he was at a time when our parents’ financial situation was a lot more stable. When I got into my twenties, I started thinking about how unfair all that was: Ed never asked for any of that to be the case, yet he got the shit end of the stick. And I started feeling guilty for being treated better and being more respected by our parents. Why should I have ever been treated well at his expense? It never made any sense to me. To this day, it still fills me with fury, a deep seated anger that will likely never go away. I wish Ed had had just a tiny bit more privilege than he did so that he could’ve been treated a little better than he was — not just by our parents, but by society as a whole.

I wonder if Ed could talk to me now, what he’d say to me. I’m sure he’d be thrilled about Kaia, growing like a little weed both in size and in personality. He would likely marvel at the apartment in which I live and also gasp at how much I’m spending on said apartment. He’d applaud anything seemingly “indulgent” I’ve done for myself, as he always used to critique me for being “too cheap” with myself and never buying myself nice things or experiences. Funnily enough, he’d probably tell me he was happy that I got my laser treatments because sometimes, when you want something, you “don’t think about it so much and just do it.” He’d admire all the travel experiences I’ve had and tell me how brave I am to go to all these places. He would also probably tell me that he was happy and grateful I found the “right person” in Chris.

It still feels strange. Sometimes, I hear about people talking about their siblings even today, and I get this sad feeling because I know I can never talk about my own sibling and our experiences in the present tense. It’s like a different kind of loss now.

12 years since you left us.

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Dear Ed,

I can’t believe it’s been 12 years since you left us today. I feel like I say that pretty much every year, but I actually do really mean it. Our cousin Russell actually messaged me this morning to acknowledge this. Russell has his own problems, but I know he loved you very much and still misses and thinks about you all the time. Each year that passes feels like a bigger gap between us. But it also makes me realize how quickly time flies the older I get (I can definitely say I have more white hairs right now than I did a year ago today). Sometimes, the day of your death is crystal clear in my head, while other days, it’s fuzzy and as though it was made up and never actually happened. I still remember how numb I felt when I found out you were missing. Even though I was walking around and doing things, it felt like my eyesight had become cloudy, like I wasn’t really walking but instead was floating just above the ground. My entire body felt weightless and extremely heavy at the same time. Nothing felt real. And then, just like that… you were confirmed gone, dead, passed away — a corpse in a refrigerator at the Marin County Morgue. Sometimes, it still doesn’t even feel real now that you’re gone.

I always wish I could have told you more, shared more about myself and my thoughts with you. I wish I could have been there for you more. I wish I could have really listened to more of what you had to say. But it was hard. I wasn’t physically always there. And even when I was, it was hard to talk to you. You had a large grey cloud looming above you all the time. It made our conversations non-continuous, choppy, never able to get past a certain point. We could never peel the outer layers of the onion away to get to the core of anything. You had a mental block that I couldn’t quite see or understand. I’m sorry I never told you all I wanted to say. And I’m sorry I never let you tell me all you wanted to say.

It’s funny, though. Now that you’re gone, out of nowhere, I think about the most random things to share with you that I think you’d find interest or amusement in. None of these things are particularly meaningful or deep or interesting or things I’d expect anyone to remember beyond the moment, but they’re more “in the moment” things that I think you’d appreciate. One of the latest things that happened that I thought would make you smile was when I wore a top with chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream cones on it. Kaia always gets excited when she sees food she likes in print or on clothing. So she pointed out that the shirt was new (to her) and that it had ice cream. I asked her to tell me what the flavors were, and she said from left to right, they were chocolate (brown), cherimoya (white), and strawberry (pink). And I just giggled because I thought it was so adorable… as we just came back from South America, where we ate a lot of cherimoya, so now, at least temporarily, Kaia associates “white” with “cherimoya” instead of the expected vanilla flavor.

My friends share about their kids and their siblings spending time with them. One of my friends lives a block away from her dad, who is caring for his granddaughter during the work week (so my friend’s niece). She goes over there frequently to spend time with her niece. And even though it has nothing to do with me or you or Kaia, a part of me feels envious. I wish that you could spend quality time and have sweet moments with Kaia. But that is never going to happen. A lot of amazing things were robbed from you, Ed. And for that, a large part of me will always be resentful on your behalf.

It’s July 2025 now, so a year and a half since the safety net was installed at the Golden Gate Bridge. We’re planning to go back to San Francisco next month. Maybe this visit, I may actually feel ready to go see it. I want to see this barrier that is saving lives… just not yours.

We haven’t forgotten you, Ed. We’ll never forget. Twelve years later, and I still haven’t forgotten you. I also haven’t stopped missing you. I love you. You may never read this, but I love you; I really do. And in her heart, I know Kaia loves you, too, and wishes she could have a real relationship in flesh and blood with you, too.

Rest in love, my sweet big brother.

Voluntarily singing and learning new Chinese songs

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Ever since Kaia started at her Chinese immersion school for 3K, she has been a lot more receptive to Chinese language and songs. Around Lunar New Year, she was excited to listen to and sing a number of Chinese New Year related songs. In the weeks leading up to the end of the 3K school year, she was constantly singing parts of “Gan Xie Lao Shi” (Thank you, Teacher). When I’d play the song on YouTube for her to listen, she’d always get really excited. Based on playing this a number of times, YouTube suggested a few related songs, like “Mama, Wo Ai Ni” (Mama, I Love You) and “Ting Wo Shuo Xie Xie Ni” (Hear Me Say Thank you), plus a few others. And Kaia’s really gotten into them. We’ve only played them a handful of times, but she’s already getting most of the words correct. I am not a native Mandarin speaker by any means and do not always understand even the basic kids’ songs word for word, especially when they sing very fast. I usually will understand the gist or meaning, but I won’t always get every word or word’s meaning correct. Kaia, on the other hand, had only heard one of the songs just a handful of times, and she was actually able to pronounce even the non-chorus words correctly! It was really sweet and endearing to witness this. I love seeing her embrace Chinese language and culture; I actually feel warm and fuzzy on the inside when I see this happening and just want to squeeze her in my arms.

I don’t know how fluent or literate Kaia will become in Mandarin Chinese; my basic hope is that she will surpass my extremely rudimentary knowledge. But I do hope that this exposure lays a basic foundation for understanding and appreciation of Chinese language and culture.

Making banh xeo after 3.5 years and paying it forward with baby gear

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I hosted some friends over for lunch today and decided to make a Vietnamese meal. After spending the last two weeks eating a lot of Peruvian and Ecuadorian food, I was definitely feeling a craving for something Vietnamese. I thought about one of my favorite Vietnamese dishes, banh xeo, and decided that this would be the weekend I’d make it! I thought about the last time I’d made this dish, and I realized it wasn’t since November 2021, or just a few weeks before I gave birth to Kaia. Then, I also made it for a lunch I was hosting. During that lunch in this very same apartment, some friends came out from Long Island to drop off several boxes worth of baby gear they were either giving us as brand new (because they never got to using them) or lightly used. So, it’s been 3.5 years since I last made this dish at home. Then, I was welcoming friends over who were handing down baby items to us. This lunch, I am handing down baby items to these other friends, including the stroller that we used regularly for over 2.5 years. All these baby items are expensive and add up, plus they take up space. So, I was happy to give new life to a lot of these items, as well as clear space in my closets!

Then when I made banh xeo, I am willing to bet I made it in either my Scanpan (in other words, “fake” or “healthier” nonstick) or in a ceramic pan (also seemingly fake since the ceramic coating barely lasts at all!). This time was the very first time I was not using a nonstick pan; instead, I was using my carbon steel pan and was a bit wary of whether the crepe would stick and make a mess. But, I figured that since these are supposed to be my “forever” and “healthy” pans that I had to give it a try. If this works with banh xeo, then my next step would be to try out making my beloved banh cuon in them!

Somehow, I was able to get it. After a few tries, I was able to get the crepe to release itself from the pan, and the crispiness turned out well. I did experience some hot spots where some parts crisped (and almost burnt) more than others, but I realized that yes, I could successfully make banh xeo in my carbon steel pans as long as I had the heat calibrated just right. It just takes some patience; each banh xeo needs about 10 minutes of cooking time to fully cook through, crisp up, and properly release from the pan. As I kept cooking, I also got those beautiful lacy edges on the crepe that I love so much (and are particularly crispy!).

Banh xeo is a food to share. Whether eaten and wrapped in rice paper or lettuce with herbs, it’s a food that really makes eating a true “activity.” So I’m happy to make it for loved ones who can appreciate that it’s a labor of love, but also a labor of deliciousness.

Bay Ridge food crawl: Yemeni coffee and food, and Brooklyn Baklava

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Yemeni coffee houses have been popping up all over New York City in the last several years. We first learned about Qahwah House in Williamsburg, which has been expanding its footprint in Queens and also now in Manhattan, around the pandemic period. Then, Haraz Coffee House at Spring Street opened in this huge, luxurious corner space in downtown Manhattan. My friend is obsessed with it ever since since we went because she loves that it’s a coffee house that stays open so late. This is actually by design: many of these Yemeni coffee houses are open late as a safe, comfortable place for people to hang out and catch up given that it’s not in Yemeni culture (which is 99 percent Muslim) to go out and drink alcohol. And yes, these are actually places with space, with proper tables and chairs, for you to enjoy your coffee and socialize. Thankfully, they are not just teeny tiny places to grab coffee and go that have zero seats. Yemen is considered the birthplace of coffee, and so it’s been really fun and delicious to enjoy their coffee flavors and traditional brewing methods. The coffee and tea flavors are also adjacent to my favorite Indian chai flavors, as the traditional Yemeni style tea is brewed with milk, sugar, cardamom, and ginger. So it seemed only natural that I was going to like Yemeni coffee houses.

Today, we went out to Bay Ridge in Brooklyn, and we tried a new Yemeni cafe called Crafted Cafe, where we got a Yemeni style latte (espresso with ginger and cardamom), a honey whipped iced latte with whipped honey and cream, garnished with Varlhona cocoa), and a nutella croissant (to tide Pookster over since she seemed a bit hangry). The latte tasted exactly like it sounds and really hit the spot; I loved the spice flavors. Chris really enjoyed his honey whipped latte, which was carefully crafted and extremely luxurious in its texture and taste. We ate at a Mexican spot in their backyard, and then we ended our dining-in time with another Yemeni business, a restaurant called Yemenat. There, we had the foule, a rich starter of mashed fava beans with smoked ghee, which came with a huge, Yemeni charred flat bread; the lamb haneeth, or braised lamb shoulder over Hadrani rice, and a Yemeni sundae, which was a cardamom gelato over Abu-Walad crumble, topped with Samna caramel and hawaji almonds. For drinks, we enjoyed the aseer leem, a sweet limeade flavored with mint and milk, plus a pomenegrate juice (mostly to appease Pookster). I always feel like these outer borough restaurant meals we have are always the show-stoppers, the ones where literally every dish and even every drink we have is incredible. Everything we ordered here was delicious and noteworthy. The bread that came with the foule was a huge highlight, but it’s hard to say that was better or even less good versus the Hadrani rice, which had grains all perfectly separated and seasoned; the lamb was fall-apart tender and perfectly seasoned. I was pretty stuffed by the time we left, and we had ample food left over to eat the next few days.

We also stopped by a place we found last year when we came to Bay Ridge called Brooklyn Baklava. I am partial to this business vs. other Middle Eastern pastry shops in the area because they are not only friendly, but generous with samples. As soon as we came in, the woman behind the counter gave Kaia a little coconut bar, on the house! I asked about their sesame cookies, and the employee immediately opened a box of assorted sample cookies for each of us to take one and try. When she saw that I split one with Chris, she said we could take one each, and also insisted that Kaia get a cookie sample (we declined that, though). So I picked up a small box of the sesame cookies, and I couldn’t resist the maamoul cookies stuffed with pistachios I got from last year. “Maamoul” literally means filled” in Arabic, and it’s usually filled with date paste or nuts (usually pistachio or walnut). At Brooklyn Baklava, they are shaped like fat half moons. Maamoul are super delicate, buttery, melt-in-your-mouth cookies that are little symbols of hospitality and celebration in Arab culture. They are so delicate and buttery that each cookie is wrapped in paper for you to eat, as the creators are mindful that the cookie will literally shatter everywhere and cause a mess if not contained in the tiny paper bag! I forgot how good these cookies were. When we got home, and after my stomach had a few hours to rest and not eat, I decided I had to try one of these maamoul fresh. And as soon as I took one bite, I realized they tasted even better than I remember. They are so buttery and delicate; I got crumbs all over the kitchen counter. And the pistachio was mashed into this thick, delicious paste that was almost chewy, but definitely “not too sweet” and very nutty. The scent was like a mix of pistachio, sugar, and maybe rose or orange blossom? The cookies are not cheap, but they are most definitely worth it.

Bay Ridge is a delicious place. Every time we have one of these Saturday outings, I remember again and again how lucky and privileged I am to live in the diversity and deliciousness of New York City.

Chocolate, cherimoya, and strawberry ice cream for Kaia

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I was rummaging through my pajamas when I came across a pajama top I hadn’t worn in ages. It’s a white muscle tank that has three ice cream cones going across: one brown, one white, and one strawberry. The average person would read this as chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice creams. But, my toddler had opinions of her own regarding what flavors they were.

Kaia loves clothing with food on it (definitely my kid). As soon as she saw me put this top on, she squealed and said it was a new top (well, new for her to see) and got excited that it was three ice cream cones. I asked her what flavor was each. She pointed at them, left to right, and said: “this one (brown) is chocolate. This one (in the middle, white) is cherimoya. And this one (on the right, pink) is strawberry! Ice cream for me!”

I immediately started giggling. She didn’t call the white ice cream “vanilla” as she normally would and instead called it “cherimoya” because we ate a lot of cherimoya during our trip in South America. So now she associates the food color white with cherimoya! It was such a sweet and cute thing to say, and also made me realize she truly was taking in everything we talked about and experienced in South America.

Parenting is not an easy job; it’s likely the hardest job in the world. But little sweet moments like this always make me gush and remind me why I love being a parent to my Kaia Pookie.

Overnight potty training – still in progress

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While in South America, we put Kaia back in overnight pull-ups. It didn’t make sense for us to wake her up twice each night to pee while we were technically supposed to be on vacation/holiday. But once we got back, we started waking her up to pee again. I usually wake her up the first time, which has been between 11:15 to midnight. Then, Chris will wake up at around 2:30-2:45 to bring her to pee. According to the Oh Crap! potty training method, we’re supposed to start with this to get her in the habit and physical / mental mode of waking up to pee. Then, ideally, this is supposed to train her to wake up to pee on her own. Well, we started this method about two weeks before South America, and she hasn’t woken up on her own to pee even once. Maybe my expectations are too high, but this seems to be going rather slowly.

Earlier this week when I’d wake her to pee at around 11:15-11:30, it did not go over so well. I knew she wouldn’t like getting woken up from a deep sleep (who would?!), but she would out right refuse and lie on the bathroom floor and scream until Chris came to coax her. I decided that maybe I was waking her up to early, so I decided to change my alarm to midnight to give her more time to sleep. This worked: the next few nights, she easily woke up when I nudged her to pee, peed in the potty, and let me tuck her back into bed. But now, it’s backfired: she will pee now, but then refuse when I try to wipe her and pull her pants back up. It’s almost as though she wants to just sit and sleep on the potty with her pants down!

I wonder if I will end up sharing these potty training stories with her later down the line… and what her reaction will be. She may end up having the reaction that her dad has to stories of his baby/toddlerhood: “No, I ate solid food right out of the womb/I walked right from birth.”