Coalition for the Homeless volunteering

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Well, it’s that time of the year again when our company’s annual Impact Week happens, which is the one week of the year that all of our offices globally volunteer time with those less fortunate than us in our local communities. As our office’s ambassador, I organized three different events for our team this week, with the first one at a local church near Grand Central Station with the organization Coalition for the Homeless. This organization passes out pre-prepared food in containers and bags for those in need, so it’s almost like a “takeout for the homeless” setup.

The event was very straightforward – we prepped the food stations, served the different components of the meal to the people who came in. We were told by the volunteer coordinator that almost all were regulars, sadly, so he recognized many by both face and name, and always wished them well. The saddest thing about continually seeing them day after day, week after week, is that he knew their lives were not getting any better. And that made him really sad. Not only that, but they knew the schedule for each of the places that offered food, the types of dishes/fruit/drinks to expect, and what the food setup would be (e.g. here, it would be all takeout food, but the church two blocks down actually has table service). They all have their routine and route down pat.

As I walked home, I called my dad to see how he was doing, and he asked why I was getting out of work so late. I told him that we were actually ending a volunteer opportunity serving meals to the homeless. He then asked me if my pay raise was reflected in my last paycheck given my promotion, and I said yes. “That’s good,” he said. “Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter since most of your salary is going to Uncle Sam, anyway!” He loves to mention that pretty much every time anyone talks about any type of increase in pay.

I thought for a moment, thinking about what he said. “Well, that’s okay,” I said back to him, “Because I rather be the one serving these meals at the homeless center than on the receiving end, so I’m not going to complain about any of that. I know I have it really good.”

Dad agreed with me, and we moved onto the next topic.

Questionable things to prevent a cold

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Since getting sick for the third time this year really made me feel angry, I decided to start researching some things I could do while traveling to prevent myself from catching yet another cold. I really don’t know what has happened to me this year; in 2018, I didn’t get even a single cold. In 2017, I had some sort of virus and then a resulting silent reflux diagnosis, and in 2015 was my ever-memorable year of getting pertussis. The general theme seems to be that I get sick usually after coming back from a long-haul flight. And that really, really needs to stop.

I read more about vitamin C intake; the jury is still out on it, but it never hurts to eat an orange or any other fruit or vegetable with a high level of vitamin C. I realized the reason that people take Emergen-C and vitamin C supplements over just relying on eating fruit and vegetables is because Emergen-C actually has 1,000 mg of vitamin C, or 1667% of your daily value of the vitamin, so it’s almost like you are inundating your body with vitamin C, vs. eating an orange, which is only about 60% of your daily value of it. I guess it can’t hurt to pack this while traveling on top of eating the loads of fruit I normally eat when we’re traveling.

The other thing I decided I’d start taking during and between flights is echinacea, which is a herb that is native to the U.S. It’s said to have active substances that are antimicrobial that can help with fending off diseases and colds. Echinacea has phenols, which are supposed to control the activity of a range of enzymes and cell receptors; It also contains alkylamides, which have an effect on the immune system. Since herbs like this aren’t regulated by the FDA, the only way I know I am eating the real thing is if I buy the organic version of this tea. Similar to vitamin C, the studies done on this are on the fence about whether there is truly a benefit, but I rather just be safe than sorry. And, since buying it this week, it actually tastes pretty good, especially with a little honey. It’s also caffeine free in the event that I want to have a tea that doesn’t give me any buzz.

I also got these homeopathic Sambucol black elderberry zinc tablets. Honestly, they taste like candy, but they get such good reviews and weren’t that expensive, so I figured… why not?

The one thing I read about that I am absolutely not going to try is oscillococcinum, which is a homeopathic preparation made from an ingredient extracted from the heart and liver of a specific breed of duck. I read that some French physician discovered it in the early 1900s while doing some investigative work on the Spanish flu. But, just listen to how that sounds: a key ingredient that is “extracted from the heart and liver of a specific breed of duck.” Doesn’t that just sound… wrong? Why would something as random as that be able to prevent someone from catching a cold…? That’s just taking the term “homeopathic” to the next level, and a level that I do not want to go.

Aziz Ansari and his audience

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After coming back from Detroit late yesterday afternoon, I had dinner at home with Chris and went down to Radio City Music Hall to see Aziz Ansari perform as part of his “Road to Nowhere” tour. The greatest thing about seeing comedians and other performing artists who are people of color is that they always acknowledge race, the always changing definition of “normal” or “politically correct,” and well, that is refreshing and something I can relate to a lot.

He touched upon a lot of very real, tangible topics in both a touching and a funny way, everything from his involvement in the #metoo movement with the woman who wrote the viral piece about her sexual encounter with him, where she perceived him to be completely un-attuned to her body language saying she was not interested in having sex, to liberals and their obsession with playing a Candy Crush version of a “how progressive can you prove yourself to be” competition, to even his grandmother and her struggle with Alzheimer’s disease. He even talked about the issue of birth control in our society now: why does it seem like the only options out there have to be so terrible: an IUD that results in, well, his penis getting stabbed, or birth control pills, which make his girlfriend into a moody, worser version of herself?

But while enjoying his standup, I noticed a woman, blonde and white, sitting not too far from us who clearly was not having a good time. Her friend (or whoever she was with) had gotten out of her seat and left, likely to either get a drink or use the bathroom, and that was when I noticed this person and how bored or un-engaged she looked. While Aziz was cracking jokes and the entire audience was roaring with laughter, this woman was looking off to the side, to my direction, expressionless, as though she was possibly counting down the minutes until this event would be over. Her facial expression and body language all screamed out that she was in extreme discomfort.

Did her friend ask her to accompany her tonight, or did she beg because she absolutely needed a plus-one because she didn’t want to come alone? Why would someone like this come to an Aziz Ansari show? You either like his material or you do not, and she clearly did not. I didn’t really feel bad for her, though. At the end of the day, it was her choice. And if Aziz’s material makes her feel uncomfortable, I wonder if she asks herself why it does that to her.

When your presumptuous assumptions were wrong

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I wasn’t sure I was going to enjoy this trip to Michigan for these three days because I was planning to travel with a colleague I’d never met before. We’ve been working together since January, yet she’s been camera shy when doing video/voice calls while using Zoom, and I could hear her strong midwestern accent every single time we spoke. She’s a remote employee based in Columbus, and I really had no idea what kind of person she was at all. All I know is that Ohio is a swing state, and there was a 50/50 chance that she would be a Trump supporter. And the idea of not only traveling with her, but also being in a car ride that would last 2.5 hours from Grand Rapids to Detroit yesterday with her, would be absolutely agonizing if I found out she really was a Trump supporter.

Luckily for me, during our first morning meet up yesterday, she started complaining about President Dipshit and in general, the Republican Party, so I knew it would be safe to talk about politics with her without either of us murdering the other. We talked a lot about our personal lives, where we grew up and have lived (she spent over 15 years living in San Francisco and the Bay Area), and our general opinions about politics, culture, and travel. We even spent nearly three hours voluntarily at dinner together at Roast, a Michael Symon restaurant that was attached to hotel we stayed at last night in downtown Detroit. It was funny to sit at the bar of this restaurant eating with her, as I remembered the first time I visited Detroit with Chris back in June 2014, we ate at this same restaurant and loved it.

When the trip concluded today with our final customer meeting and her driving me to the Detroit airport, I hugged her, thanked her for driving me all over Michigan, and departed for my flight back to New York City. And honestly, I felt kind of bad about my potential hesitations of who she was as a person. I actually had a lot of fun talking to her and getting to know her, but then I questioned myself and wondered… if she WERE a Trump supporter, how exactly would I have navigated that? Could I have handled it appropriately, especially given we’re colleagues and thus in a professional relationship? Not everyone I meet and work with is going to agree with my view of the world. That’s just reality. But when that time comes at work, what am I going to do then?

Cafe miel

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I really lucked out during my 24 hours in Grand Rapids since after a delicious dinner last night, I strolled around the downtown area and found a fun coffee shop called Madcap Coffee. It’s been around for the last 11 years, and they’re known for their spacious, modern decor, strong and delicious coffee, and friendly service. They even make their own yogurt in house (for a coffee shop, that’s crazy!) and fresh fruit/granola blends.

One of the things that caught my eye on the menu this morning before I left for my customer meeting was the cafe miel. “Cafe miel” just means coffee with honey in French, but I haven’t been used to seeing this offered on menus anywhere before (no, having honey at the counter with the lids, straws, stirrers, and napkins does NOT count), so I decided to try it. Not only do they make your latte with honey as a sweetener, but they also add in some cinnamon and nutmeg to spice it up a bit. It was completed with a cute heart-shaped foam design on the top, and I enjoyed it with a cup of their house-made yogurt topped with marinated rhubarb, strawberries, and nutty granola.

It was a simple breakfast, but it was so satisfying, especially knowing that the yogurt and fruit blend was all house made, and that the coffee drink was so lovingly made with a unique twist.

I was also completely wired for the next four hours after having that cafe miel, so not only was it one of the most delicious coffee drinks I’ve had in a while, but it was also one of the strongest!

Making business travel more bearable

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When I tell people I do a moderate amount of work travel, they either have one of two reactions: a) they think it’s glamorous and exciting, or b) they think it must be painful and annoying to have to travel away from home, in an unfamiliar place with likely few to no one you know, to do one’s job. I have a lot of colleagues who absolutely hate work travel, and they grumble when I tell them I’m not going to be in. But, at the same time, they see my Instagram stories during my work travel and accuse me of playing hooky because of the things I post. As someone who had done quite a bit of it after nearly 11 years working full time, I can certainly say that the only thing “glamorous” and “exciting” about doing work travel is the amount of frequent flier miles and hotel points you can accumulate from business travel (and thus, free hotel nights/flights/flight upgrades during personal travel).

There have been times when it’s been lonely and annoying, especially in places that aren’t as metropolitan as New York or San Francisco, but the way that I’ve made it into something enjoyable is to fit in a few things that I can do for myself that I will enjoy. It could be a walk through Olympic Centennial Park while I’m in Atlanta visiting a customer, a run on the beach during sunrise in Miami, or a stroll to see the Bean, one of my all-time favorite public sculptures (I don’t care how “touristy” it is) while in Chicago. Another thing I like to do is find a good, interesting local spot to eat at and/or enjoy some local well crafted coffee or tea. I have to eat anyway, and it’s nice to try something that is local and well loved by the people in the area.

Tonight, after sifting through a lot of generic and boring sports bars and “American pubs” in the downtown Grand Rapids area on my Yelp app, I came upon an interesting “new American” restaurant called The Little Bird. It just happened to be about three blocks away from the hotel where I was staying, so I figured I’d pop in for an early dinner and sit at the bar. The restaurant, which is open for all three meals of the day, had such a fun and worldly variety of plates on the menu ranging from pork katsu, Scotch eggs made with locally sourced sausage, to Spanish tinned sardines imported from Spain. I ordered the lamb meatballs served with grilled eggplant, curried lentils, feta, cucumber salad, and yogurt, and was really blown away by the combination of flavors, the spice of the lamb, and the texture of the eggplant. I could honestly say that I wasn’t sure what I enjoyed more, the eggplant or the meatballs. And the craziest thing was that only a few of the tables in the small restaurant were occupied. If this same restaurant were in New York, I’d bet that it would be packed to the brim by the time I left at around 7:30.

It’s fun, eclectic places like this that keep me going during my work travel, even in places that initially may not seem to be the most exciting. You really have to do little things for yourself while traveling alone to make it more bearable and interesting.

Chocolate chip cookie memory

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I went back to the doctor for a follow-up appointment, and to reward myself (for nothing really), on my long walk back home, I decided to stop by Levain Bakery to pick up a few of their famously oversized, gooey chocolate chip cookies.

As I sat at my kitchen counter and ate this after dinner tonight, I suddenly remembered the one time when Ed baked something: he made chocolate chip cookies once, and only once. At that time, we didn’t have a regular oven since our oven was broken, and our family, being cheap and Chinese, not only had no use for a regular oven, but didn’t want to replace the broken one we had. But what we did have was a small convection oven, which was mostly used for dishes like roast chickens or other cuts of meat. Convection ovens aren’t typically used for baking, but it was all we had access to. So Ed went ahead, bought his chocolate chips and other random ingredients he needed for cookies, and went about making them.

At that time, I’d baked quite a bit with my aunt, but despite my experience baking, Ed insisted he wanted to do this all, step by step, by himself. So in between homework and other things, I’d stop by the kitchen to see how he was doing. He would carefully measure out each portion of flour, sugar, and other ingredients, then double and triple check the recipe to ensure he got it right. And at the end, when the cookies came out of the oven, I went into the kitchen to see how they’d turned out. They looked pretty good… but I noticed that the cookies were a bit paler than normal.

“Did you remember to use brown sugar?” I asked. “These don’t look that brown the way they normally do.”

“Oh, crap! I forgot the brown sugar!” he exclaimed, looking embarrassed and annoyed with himself at the same time. “Well, sugar is sugar, right?”

Well, not really. Brown sugar has a richer flavor, aids in caramelization, and because it has less moisture in it, it tends to lead to taller, cakier shaped cookie. White sugar has more moisture and less acidity, so your cookie will be paler, spread more, and also be more crisp.

I still commended him for baking since he’d never done it ever before, and had never expressed any previous interest in it. We both tasted them, and they were quite delicious (but when are they not right out of the oven?).

“Well, I did it!” he said.”I succeeded! I wanted to make cookies, and I did it!” He had this big, goofy smile on his face. He was clearly so proud of himself.

I thought it was cute at the time, yet a bit pathetic. He was already an adult by then, and it seemed a bit funny to me that he would get so excited about something as simple as this. But in retrospect, I just feel sad thinking about it.

In Ed’s life, he had little validation. He just wanted to know he was able to accomplish little things that meant something, and unfortunately, our parents weren’t really capable of doing that for him. His teachers weren’t capable. No one really did it. I guess there was the occasional positive validation from his cousins and me, but that was really it.

I wish Ed could taste this Levain cookie now. He might obsess over it, wondering if it was really cooked through enough (well, “enough” is subjective, right?), but I’m sure he would enjoy it just as much, if not more, than I am right now.

Hoping for a better tomorrow

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Today, in light of the recent one-year anniversary of Anthony Bourdain’s passing, I re-read one of my all-time favorite profiles of him done by (of course), The New Yorker, entitled, Anthony Bourdain’s Moveable Feast. The article describes Anthony’s travels as “communion with a foreign culture so unmitigated that it feels practically intravenous.” The writer says he “makes a fetish of authenticity,” which I can completely relate to. As someone who loves to travel, I think I’m also obsessed with finding authentic experiences that aren’t just about being catered to in a specific way just because I am a tourist, but rather because I want to do whatever that local person is doing or eating. But that desire could easily be read as homogenized, which defeats the purpose, in many ways, of travel.

I’ve never really been that sad by any celebrity’s death, but his passing was just so horrible to me because even though he’s a white man, he embodies what I wish every traveler could be and what I want to be when I travel: the kind of person who wants to fully immerse himself in the culture he’s in, who isn’t scared of eating or doing the things that local people do in their local towns and cities, who doesn’t assume an air of superiority because he comes from a rich, westernized, and overprivileged nation. He also doesn’t make dangerous, sweeping assumptions about the places he’s been that generalize and reduce them down to stereotypes. Why can’t more people be like him?

10-min meals

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One of the biggest game changers for me with Indian cooking was the Instant Pot. Since we purchased one last summer during a big sale on Amazon, my life has forever been changed when cooking Indian food, especially when it comes to stews, beans, and biryani dishes. Another game changer was finding this incredible Indian cooking blog called My Heart Beets, which is hands down one of my all-time favorite food blogs. One of the best recipes she has on her blog is for onion masala, which basically has key components distilled down into a masala mix of tomatoes, onions, garlic, ginger, and various common Indian spices, all cooked in an Instant Pot, then frozen into 1/2 or 1/4-cup portions so that you can fish them out of your freezer and use them at any time to make authentic Indian food faster and easier.

I’ve since made a batch of this onion masala and have already used it for several dishes. The most rewarding dish I’ve used it for was just this morning, when I made Indian-style shakshuka in just 10 minutes! I took out about one cup of onion masala and defrosted it overnight, then I used that as the base for my shakshuka, just adding some crumbled sausage into the tomato mix, then eggs, and topping with cilantro and salt and pepper. It was one of the simplest, fastest, and most satisfying fully-homemade meals I’ve made in a long time.

The only way to have quick homemade meals is to do a lot of meal prep beforehand and in bulk, and this onion masala is definitely a key to that. Luckily for me, we have a much bigger freezer than before, so we can store things like this.

Cough cough

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This is really a year of hell for me when it comes to catching colds. First, I got sick coming back from Vietnam in January. Then, I got sick coming back from San Francisco in February. I don’t think there has ever been a year of my life after the age of 5 when I have gotten sick this frequently. Now, I’m sick from something I caught at the end of our Colombia trip nearly two weeks ago. And the same violent coughing and phlegm build up is there. I’m not happy. If it were just a basic cold, I’d probably be okay with it and shrug it off, but this coughing is just not good — at all.

I called Teledoc yesterday, and that was pretty much useless. The doctor was unempathetic, curt, and flippant. Despite telling him none of my symptoms were getting better, he insisted it was a virus and not bacterial, so he just said the usual – drink more liquids, rest more, vitamin C… and a prescription grade cough suppressant “if you want it … it’s up to you.” He did not care at all.

Then today, I went to urgent care and had a doctor look me over. He said that because my symptoms hadn’t improved at all after over a week and a half that it must be bacterial, so he gave me an antibiotic for bronchitis and similar respiratory illnesses.

These are the moments when I think… this is why we need to be grateful for having good health. Having a violent cough that could come up any time, any place, is really a hindrance, and a nasty one.