Attica

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Tonight, Chris’s parents took us to the renowned and highly respected restaurant Attica as our early Christmas present. Attica is on pretty much every list for the world’s best restaurants, and after dining here, it’s hard to see why it would not be on the list. Although Chris and I have been privileged enough to have dined at some of the best restaurants around the world and especially in New York City, the dining experience at Attica was in a world of its own. New York City’s Eleven Madison Park is probably the top overall dining experience I’ve ever had when it comes to uniqueness of local ingredients, presentation, and outstanding but unpretentious service, but Attica takes “local” to another level. The chef who has now bought the restaurant is originally from New Zealand, and he grew up on a farm where he was accustomed to eating things grown right in front of him. He wanted to bring that experience to his restaurant, and so he incorporates hyper-local ingredients that you literally can find only in Australia, such as wattle seed, bunya bunya nut, Santa Claus melon, plum pine (he’s obsessed with this, as it’s literally everywhere on the dinner and cocktail/mocktail menu), and anise myrtle, among other seafood, greens, and herbs.

Attica has its own back patio where the staff grows its own herbs and vegetables, and before dinner service, they snip the vegetables and greens minutes before being served. They also use the land at the Rippon Lea Estate across the street as grounds to grow fresh produce. And given that the air is cleaner and fresher here than it is in New York City, I’d trust this produce more than the produce being grown on rooftop gardens or back patios in Manhattan. Attica is one of the freshest dining experiences I’ve ever had, and with beautiful plating that is reminiscent of Eleven Madison Park. One of the dishes is kangaroo completed covered with thinly sliced purple carrot. We learned from one of the cooking shows featuring Attica that each of these dishes takes about five minutes for the kitchen staff to hand plate.

Another thing that was notable and unique about the restaurant was how diverse the kitchen staff is. With most kitchen staffs I’ve seen in New York, the people working in the front of house are primarily white, while the back of house/cooking staff are Latino/white. Here at Attica, the kitchen staff represents all colors and areas of the world. Accents were varied depending on the person, and it was refreshing to see this for the very first time in such a world-acclaimed restaurant.  Attica is representative of everything good and progressive about the world. Now, if only other famous restaurants could mimic this desire for diversity, as well as other major companies around the world.

 

Eager beaver

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After 21+ hours of travel, we finally arrived in Melbourne this morning. Chris’s parents picked us up from the airport, and when we arrived home, Chris’s mom wasted no time in showing us the new window blinds she recently had installed on all second floor windows. Chris’s parents live in this beautiful two-story home with what Chris and his brother like to call “suicide windows.” What they are referring to are their massive floor-to-ceiling windows in each second-floor room that open out like doors, so if some unknowing child decided to open the window, he could easily step out and fall to his little death. Chris always gets apprehensive during the Christmas season if his parents are hosting Christmas or Boxing Day celebrations for the family because that means that in the past, they’ve needed to child-proof the house as much as possible. That mainly entails covering all the windows with drapes and making sure Chris’s cousin’s young children stay as far away from them as possible.

I originally thought Chris’s mom just wanted a change of décor for the house, so I complimented the new window blinds and noted how much larger and more spacious the bedrooms looked with blinds instead of the window drapes. I also noted that with blinds, the windows are now fully child-proof, which means that when the nephews come over, they no longer had to worry about the windows. She didn’t beat around the bush at all and said immediately, “Yes, that’s what I wanted them for – to child proof the house for my future grandchildren!”

Hmmm.

Chris’s mom was very transparent. She said that Tony thought she was being a little absurd, and to get another opinion, she consulted with her friend and told this friend of her plans. The conversation went a little something like this:

Susan: So, I’m having new blinds installed in the house on the second floor, and Tony doesn’t seem to approve.

Friend: Why not?

Susan: Well, I want to have them installed so that the house will be safe and child-proof for my future grandchildren, but Tony thinks it’s too premature to plan for that.

Friend: Oh, is your daughter-in-law pregnant?

Susan: No, not yet.

Friend: Have your son and daughter-in-law mentioned wanting to have children soon?

Susan: No, they haven’t mentioned anything.

Friend: Susan, don’t you think you are getting a little ahead of yourself?

My mother-in-law is an eager beaver. She simply cannot wait to be a grandmother.

Onboard

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I don’t think I will ever get over how good Qantas service is compared to any U.S. airline service. Even when I first flew in their economy cabin, I felt like I was being treated with such respect in the way that a paying customer should be. In Business Class, it’s pretty much on steroids in terms of quality of service; they make your “bed” for you before it’s time to sleep, they check in with you to make sure you aren’t hungry or thirsty or need anything else, and when you hit your “call” button, the flight attendants come over in less than 2 minutes. When you ask them what small plates are available between official meals, they give you a full description of the dish and talk about how delicious and fulfilling it is as though they are servers working on tips in restaurants. On U.S. airlines, it’s “pasta” or “salad.” And in the U.S., you probably need to be choking or passed out for someone to come to your seat that quickly. U.S. workers in general are so freaking entitled.

Call with dad

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I called my dad from the airport today before we left for Melbourne, and as is his usual tendency, he started talking about all kinds of depressing topics like life insurance, what he’d do if he’d officially retire (watch a lot of YouTube videos all day), and my future inheritance and death taxes I may have to pay.

I always wonder during these conversations if these topics actually give my dad pleasure. He loves to discuss logistical things even when they make no sense or are overly cautious, and he stays far away from discussing anything about feelings. It’s hard to relate to that stance in life because I’m not like that at all. In fact, when I try to show feelings, most of the people I’ve chosen to spend time around, both family and friends, tend to change the topic.

Repression is the worst.

Last full day in NYC this year

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Today is our last full day in New York City this year, as tomorrow we’ll be leaving for Melbourne. It was also absolute hell at work, so I’m looking forward to getting away even if I will still be working remotely. Sometimes, distance and space is all you need to function and get through chaos.

It’s been over eight years in New York now. I thought I’d be done with it in two to four years, but the years just keep piling up. Although there’s so much I love about it here, it feels good to leave it when it’s getting colder outside and the threat of snow is imminent. Snow is beautiful when I am inside a warm place looking out; when I am trekking through it, I feel miserable. I don’t think I would ever embrace the idea of living in an area that expected snow every year. When I think of shoveling snow and dealing with ice on a car, I just want to crawl into a hole and hibernate.

 

Holiday party 2016

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Corporate holiday parties are always so amusing to be at because each year, you realize exactly how bottled up people are at the office; we don’t have the time to get to know each other, and we’re constantly trying to control others’ perceptions of who we actually are. These are the people who then really let go when they get a free open bar and let loose in every sense possible. Then, they show up at the office the next day and start vomiting into the office toilets. Yes, that really happened last year. Vomiting isn’t normally a sound I expect to hear when I am in the women’s room at my office, but hey, post-company-holiday party, anything goes! The next day is full of hung over, sluggish employees, downing endless cups of coffee while trying not to pass out in front of their MacBooks. Most of them get in somewhere between 10:30am-noon, if they even make it in. One person on my team didn’t even make it in today. Fearing that people wouldn’t come in, our co-founder delayed the bagels and cream cheese until tomorrow morning.

Each year, the day after the holiday party, I come in with a scratchy voice from screaming to have conversations over ridiculously loud music at whatever venue we had our party at. This year, I actually had a lot of conversations around topics you would not normally have at an office holiday party: race relations in the U.S. and how they have evolved, politics and elections in Turkey vs. the U.S., and why Australia is not necessarily the perfect utopia that Americans seem to think it is. I did all this in between multiple tequila shots, glasses of cabernet, and a tequila sunrise. I would say it was a very productive and thought provoking night for me.

Healthy holiday treats activity

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Tonight, I had a mentoring session with the foster kids at the program I participate in, and our activity tonight was making healthy holiday treats. The program hired some ladies from a nutrition company to come in to discuss healthy eating habits during the Christmas season, and provided food to assemble little dishes and bites. Some of the foods they brought included Quaker Oats rice cakes, plain and red pepper hummus, cucumbers, cream cheese, grapes, strawberries, and honey ham. Two of the kids had never heard of hummus, and one of them said it looked and sounded absolutely disgusting. He initially refused to even try it, but after a little coaxing from a few of us (“don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,”) he finally gave in and put some on his rice cake. And he ended up loving it and making seconds and thirds, topping his rice cake not only with hummus, but with vegetables he normally never eats.

It was a different world to be in at the moment; I forget how picky children can be, and to see these kids completely change their minds about something like hummus in a matter of 20 minutes was such a reality check for me. These are kids who aren’t exposed to foods of different cultures, and because of that, they have very fixed views of what they like and dislike. With a little coaxing, though, they relented and found something new they all enjoyed, and I think that’s what a lot of parents fear doing in general. We cannot just give up on people who say they don’t like things, especially as growing children. We need to reintroduce to them and explain why these things are good in not just taste but also in nutrition. And maybe they don’t like the hummus with the cucumber, but they’d like it with something else like the rice cakes. These kids had never even been exposed to why vegetables are actually beneficial to them, much less a whole variety of vegetables that exist out there that they have just never seen. Habits are learned, both the good and the bad ones.

Family friends are odd

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I was talking to my mom, and she told me that one of her close Jehovah’s Witness friends (who actually wrote me a check as a wedding gift even though she’s never even met me and was not invited to the wedding) came over to the house over the weekend to make my dad lamb. My dad loves lamb, and he occasionally made it for Ed and me growing up, which is how we both learned to love lamb. My mom, on the other hand, has always hated it and may even have an allergy to it. The one time my uncle made a lamb stew and didn’t tell my mom it was lamb, she spent the wee hours of the night vomiting into the toilet.

On the one hand, I thought it was incredibly sweet, thoughtful, and generous for her friend to come over and make lamb for my dad, who she knows loves it. On the other hand, I thought it was a little strange. She’s not that close to my mom, but she still volunteered to surprise them at their house and make them a whole lamb roast? Where does my mom find these people? I can’t even get people at my office to pay for a $10 lunch for me.

Blue collar life

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I went to my usual spot to get my hair cut tonight, and my hairdresser was as kind and bubbly as always. She works weekends but has Mondays and Thursdays off, and has a four-year-old daughter she supports with her husband. Her commute to Astor Place is long from outer Queens and involves a bus and a train. She probably doesn’t get paid much (haircuts at this spot only cost $25, which is a steal in New York City), so she depends on tips quite a bit; she can only afford to go back home to Sicily about every two years, which is sad because she sounds like she loves her family. It always make me frustrated to know how many people’s livelihoods depend on tips in this country. It just doesn’t make logical sense to me why they just cannot have a living wage to live regular, non-lavish lives.

She asks a lot about me, but I always feel guilty telling her things I am up to. I don’t feel comfortable telling her that I just came back from Spain; I especially don’t feel comfortable telling her that I’m leaving for Melbourne this Saturday. She knows I’ve been going there every year for Christmas since she started cutting my hair a few years ago, and she is always saying how jealous she is. Most of the time when people say they are jealous, it doesn’t mean anything to me. But when she says it, I always feel a nagging sense of guilt. I get to do and experience all these things she probably only dreams of. She works really hard, and she’s clearly very good at what she does. Am I really more deserving of all these things than she is? Probably not.

She also got an over 40% tip from me tonight.

Christmas ornaments

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I have a whole drawer full of Christmas ornaments. This is kind of sad because the last time I had a tree to decorate, it was December 2008 in Cambridge, and my then-boyfriend and I bought a tree from a church charity and decorated it together. It’s been eight years without a tree of my own to decorate. Yet, I’ve still been accumulating ornaments that have been given as gifts to me, not to mention ornaments from traveling to areas that are famous for their Christmas markets, like Austria and Germany. These ornaments look up at me every year, wondering, when are you going to hang me up? When are you going to make use of me? Get me outta this drawer and let me breathe!

I’ve been passing by lots of corner street Christmas tree sellers, inhaling that magical pine tree smell. Passing by these streets makes me wish I had my own tree to decorate. I have no idea how much these trees cost because I’ve never been in the market, but I just heard that there are some 6-ft. tall Christmas trees in SoHo that are going for $900-2,500 each! New York City is so ridiculous for prices, but I had no idea it could be that insane just for a Christmas tree that would be up and decorated at maximum a month and a half.