Last night I dreamt about Elia’s waffle, ham, egg, and cheese breakfast on Top Chef. So what else could I do this morning but have a ham and cheese sandwich?
Not the same but still satisfying.
food
09
Dec 06
Anna Full of Grace
I am a mule. I carry small items on my person across borders and hand them off to an individual at a designated spot, at a designated time.
Usually these items are stashed in the depths of my duffel bag or backpack. NJ Transit currently doesn’t search personal items so for now I’m safe. For now I won’t have to hide these items in more, um, uncomfortable areas.
Sometimes I’m required to bring a gift along with my delivery, such as a food item that I forget to refrigerate and which then spoils, much to the consternation of my employer. I’ve received only a warning so far. Next time I won’t be so lucky.
What do I receive in exchange you may ask? A meagre salary? No. Freedom to travel beyond the Hudson River? No, I already have this. What I receive is a most basic necessity: food that is actually edible.
After my delivery, I’m often asked to return something to my employer, and so I’m forced to go back and begin the cycle again, the vicious cycle of the Korean soap opera DVD exchange.
The Chinese addiction to Korean soap operas is an international epidemic. From Taipei to New York to San Francisco, people can’t get enough of them, often foregoing shows produced in their own countries, to the point that Taiwan and China have started “cracking down” on the popular dramas.
While I don’t believe in government involvement, the obsession has definitely gone too far. For instance, my employer, a 60+ year old mother of two, carries around a keychain with her favorite Korean heartthrob, a young man nearly 40 years her junior. Her older sister is even worse, often calling to giggle and gossip for hours about the attractive stars.
So I continue to aid and bet in this addictive circle, forever trapped as long as my own addiction to my employer’s home cooking lives on.
06
Dec 06
Let it go, the damage in your heart
For some reason I can’t get enough of this toddler singing Weezer. I’ve been following little Owen’s growing up since late last year. He’s such a cutie! His dad doesn’t post nearly enough.
While I’ve heard Owen sing Weezer several times, I’ve only recently listened to a sample of the real song. It kind of makes me want to cry, especially the refrain.
~ ~ ~
I’ve broken out the hat, scarf, and gloves so I know winter’s finally here. The cold gives me a peaceful feeling. The streets are quieter and the air more still. But also it reminds me of last winter, which was when I began to make peace with myself.
I’d been living on my own for ahout half a year, and it had been two months since my divorce was finalized and C. dumped me. All at once I was able to let go of a lot of negativity, or it decided to leave me. Whichever, it doesn’t matter.
Winter also reminds me of walking around the city. Last December was the subway strike and so every morning and evening I walked to and from work, up and down 2nd Avenue. Luckily it wasn’t too cold. Friday nights I’d stop in at the
Buttercup Bake Shop and pick up a couple of breakfast buns – all baked goods are 50% off after 5 PM – for the weekend.
And it was last winter that I began to feel like people were really reading my blog and that I started writing for the city blog. I felt like I was entering this new exciting world.
Maybe “exciting” is a bit much, but it was to me at the time after going so long writing and not being read, knowing that my words weren’t just disappearing into cyberspace.
04
Dec 06
I’m an idiot
Finishing up the obssessive weekend posts.
I spent Sunday morning blogging and paying my bills. For lunch I had my leftover cha-jang myun, which tasted so much better than it did the day before. I added some tofu stirfried in olive oil, and somehow that did wonders to the sauce.
Then it was off to the Book Fair. That afternoon they had enough volunteers so I was free to go to a couple of panels. I don’t know much about Amiri Baraka, except that he’s a poet, is from my homestate of New Jersey, and was once known as Leroi Jones. It was interesting to hear him speak about race and politics, though I don’t agree with everything he said. His politics are much more radical than mine.
There was one woman who had to respond to almost everything with a very loud, “Mmm-hmm,” or “That’s right,” or whatever. Okay, so you agree. Now shut the fuck up. At one point Baraka mentioned Richard Wright and the woman started applauding. A few claps I can understand, but it went on so long, and no one else joined in.
A couple of rows in front of me, this white woman who had to be closing in on 60 and who had a NOSE RING for God’s sake – if she had had a hip ensemble, I’d have accepted the nose ring, but she had mousy no-style hair, giant glasses, and a librarian-in-the-’80s outfit – kept turning around to beam at the noisy woman. Oh yeah, it’s great, you liberal drone.
I mean, I’m liberal too, but just because the noisy person is African American and wearing some African outfit doesn’t make her any less noisy or disruptive.
Anyway, the second discussion I went to was on graffiti, specifically this book, Burning New York – Graffiti NYC. It was interesting to hear how it’s evolved over the years, from just tags to real art. I’m tempted to buy the book. Maybe I’ll just go to a store and look at the pictures.
In between the sessions, I went out to see if there were any other books I wanted to buy. I glanced at this one, then was looking at the author picture when I sensed a guy behind me so I glanced back. It was the author.
“That’s my book,” he said. He gave me a card. “Let me know if you have any questions.”
For some reason I was freaked out. I mean, to go from looking at the author picture to looking up and seeing him standing before me was weird. Plus the pressure of possibly insulting the author by not buying his book. Plus he was cute.
Nerd alert.
I didn’t buy the book. I didn’t ask any questions though a couple crossed my mind (“Did you self-publish? If no, which press are with you? What’s your number?” haha, just kidding).
“Oh, thanks,” I said brusquely, and moved on.
I’m such an idiot. Not that I expected anything to happen, but I could have at least had a conversation with a cute boy, especially since almost everyone else there was a freak show. Made an at least temporary contact with another writer. See if his press was looking for submissions.
Duh! God. I need to buy some new boots and kick myself in the ass.
And I brought business cards, too.
Anyway, it was well past 5 when I left. Picked up some provisions along the way, including instant miso soup and a gigantour bottle of soy sauce for $3 at Katagiri, and a pound of organic ground coffee from Really Cool Foods. Turns out they have my favorite Get Gorgeous tea so I won’t have to schlep down to the Whole Foods in Union Square for it anymore.
03
Dec 06
The weekend thus far: Saturday
I was up relatively late, around 9. I spent the morning playing with my pictures and writing a post for Metroblogger on the eating tour I took on Thursday. Then I was off to Penn Station to meet my mother.
She’s spending the week in L.A. with my grandmother. Puo-puo lives with my uncle and his family but they’re on the east coast for a few days visiting my aunt’s family in Boston and their daughter who’s going to med school out here. So she needs some company. My mother flew Jet Blue for the first time, which presently flies only out of JFK and LGA, not Newark, so she hopped on the NJ Transit to take the shuttle to the JFK.
It wasn’t that simple. I got to Penn Station early to scope out the bus stop. Couldn’t find it. At Grand Central it’s very obvious. There’s good signage and a ticket window and usually buses already there waiting. At Penn Station I couldn’t find shit. I asked some cops but they were no help.
“You gotta go out to Long Island,” one told me.
Um, no, I don’t think so.
“Take the air train, it’s faster,” another said.
Yeah, didn’t ask about the air train.
Luckily the guy at the info desk in the station was able to tell me where it was.
So my mother and I schlepped out there, found the sign, but no bus or ticket window. I asked the news stand guy if he knew where I could buy a ticket, and he said I could buy it on the bus, which turned out not to be true. People, if you don’t know the answer, just say so. Please don’t make one up.
Anyway, it turns out you have to take a shuttle from Penn Station to Grand Central to take the real bus to the airport. At least the shuttle’s free, and the driver was very nice. He was the one who came up to us and asked if we were trying to get to the airport. He could have easily ignored us.
Timing was on my side all day. Coming down, the 6 train arrived just as I got to the station, then the E at 51st Street. Now, as we deboarded the shuttle at Grand Central, the bus to JFK was just about to leave. We got my mom’s ticket and she was off.
Even she said all of that was too much trouble to save a few dollars on Jet Blue. Next time she’s flying out of Newark. But after she enjoys the personal satellite TVs and extra wide seats, she might change her mind.
Being back at Grand Central was actually perfect for me because I needed to be on the east side for the rest of my errands. First, down to Union Square to get some Amino Acid Shampoo at Kiehl’s. Of course I could have gotten that at a more conveniently located establishment like Barney’s or Sak’s, but I like venturing to different parts of town, and plus I wanted tempura udon for lunch at M2M and a sesame milk tea from Saint’s Alp.
On the way, in case I forgot:
Yes. Yes. Yes. What of it?
My usual shampoo of choice is the Tea Tree Oil one for oily scalp and dry hair, but I’m finding for the winter it’s too drying. The Amino Acid one is gentler and more moisturizing. As always, the Kiehl’s “doctor” offered up some free samples, of which I chose the Over-Night Biological Peel. He asked me if I knew about that whole line. I didn’t so he threw other samples of the line-reducing concentrate, the micro-dermabrasian stuff, and the post-micro-dermabrasian salve. Yay, free stuff!
My haircut appointment was at 3 so I had just enough time to train back up to lower midtown east. Again, time was on my side (okay, let’s sing it together, I know it’s going through all of your heads: Tiiiiime is on my side, yes it is): just as I walked into the salon, Mario was saying goodbye to his last client.
Mario has been my haircutter for years. He’s the only one who understands my hair. When I first came back to New York, I went through about five different hair salons and five different but equally bad haircuts. I think people see Asian hair and think it can be cut any which way. But my hair isn’t smooth and silky. It’s coarse and slightly wavy, and if it’s cut incorrectly will stick up all over the place. Mario is the only one who gets this.
After my cut I headed down to Koreatown for my favorite cha-jang myun. I think they’re beginning to recognize me at the restaurant. I put in my order then stepped out to check out a beauty product store. Looks like Shiseido has a new whitening line, White Lucent. Ahhh, too many choices!
That time thing again. The moment I returned to the restaraunt, my order arrived. Weird.
While in K-town, I also stopped in something called Pinkberry, which I guess is already popular in L.A. I asked the guy about it, and he was nice enough to give me free samples (yay, free again!), plain and green tea.
They’re more like sorbet than frozen yogurt, and were slightly tangy. I could barely taste the difference between the two flavors though they were pretty good.
Then it was homeward bound. I thought about going to the book fair, but since I’ll be there all afternoon today, decided it would be overkill.
01
Dec 06
All work and no play
Looks like I’ll have to cancel my trip to L.A. :(
All this work stuff came up that I need to complete by 12/18. It wasn’t really last minute. It’s been ongoing but I only recently realized my vacation schedule didn’t gibe with this deadline.
At first I tried to squeeze the trip, ie, fly down on Friday and come back Sunday, but the flights are pretty expensive and don’t come in or fly out at convenient times. So I’ll go in January or February instead.
While I’m disappointed, it’s not like I’m canceling a meticulously planned out trip overseas. There’s just the $30 cancelation fee and telling folks I can’t make it. Besides I’d rather go at a time that I won’t be constantly thinking about work.
Another upside is that in January or February, my cousin will be more ready for a visit. If I go next week, there’s a chance the baby won’t even be home yet from the hospital.
On another note, yesterday I had the privilege of going on a Savory Sojourns walking tour in the West Village. We started at an Italian restaurant for lunch. I had the seafood risotto, which was yummy, but so filling I barely made a dent in the huge plate.
Afterwards I had a bit of exquisite espresso, and while exquisette, it did a number on my stomach, and I wasn’t able to “savor” much of anything else. It was still fun though to walk around a part of town I’m not familiar with.
One of the highlights was what I’m calling an olive oil chandelier:
I also loved going into the Porto Rico coffee shop. It smelled amazing. Unfortunately they wouldn’t let us take pictures. Bastards.
The holiday shopping has begun. I already got my mom a coffee maker, the same model I have. The one she has is totally ghetto. The filter part doesn’t close properly and so my dad put some tape to hold it in place. Also, it’s glass so you can see the stains. The one I bought is aluminum. In addition I’ll get her some nice coffee and the correct size filters.
For my father I’m planning on a wine club thing, two bottles of red a month for three to six months, I haven’t decided yet. Also for their anniversary, which is on December 27, I’m planning on a gift basket of wines and sweets. I’d like to get my cousin an outfit for her daughter and something beauty product-ish for her.
Tonight and Sunday I’m volunteering at the Small Press Center’s book fair. Should be interesting.
27
Nov 06
Thanksgiving Up and Down
*Sigh.* So Thanksgiving.
Bad news first. Had a HUGE fight with my mother. I don’t even want to get into the details. Mea culpa, but it was a small thing that she let fester for weeks till finally she decided to pull a silent treatment, which of course I couldn’t leave alone, resulting in a giant, tear-inducing argument.
To tell the truth, it was a long time coming. I know I’ve been emotionally distant from my parents these last several months and that I’ve been in a selfish phase. I expected everything to come to a head, and wish it had been worked out more calmly, but we’re taking about my mother here, with her temper and stuborness, SO stubborn that she can’t even admit that she has a temper or is stubborn, a deadly combination. And my poor nice dad caught in the middle, only wanting a peaceful family get-together.
In the end we talked things through and now we understand each other better, and my mother is over her mad and happy again, but I still fell sorta crummy about the whole thing. I feel beaten down. I’ve been pushed in to the peace maker role again – aping my role when I was married – and it feels extra yucky because I realize now that’s how I was during my marriage.
But there’s no use in expressing these feelings because she refuses to listen; she thinks she’s right and that there’s a certain way to behave, and these other feelings don’t matter.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt bad like this, and I hate her for making feel like this over such a small thing. But those feelings will pass. Once I get some time and distance. Three nights and days was way too much time to spend with them.
I remembered again what someone said, that we all marry our mothers, men and women, and for me it was true. I should have married someone like my dad who though he can be impatient and antisocial, never flips out about anything. Takes everything in stride and doesn’t get insulted by small things. He keeps an eye on the bigger picture, he knows that his children love him, and if he’s assured that we’re okay, that’s all that matters.
Anyway.
Onto more cheerful things. Had a blast with ES. She came in Tuesday night, first stopping at my office to check it out. Then we headed uptown and visited with SB and Ellie. ES is really good at playing with kids. She’s more energetic than I am, and little Ellie was in love.
Around 8:30 SB’s dad came to pick up Ellie for the evening, and we three went out to dinner. La Tour is a French place near me that has all you can eat mussels and frites for $18, which is what I should have gotten. Instead I opted for the French sheperd’s pie, which was like regular sheperd’s pie minus the deep dish as well as the flavor, though it was probably supposed to have that. ES got the steak tartare, which she said wasn’t very good either. SB’s mussels were delish.
Wednesday morning ES went to meet her mother and get tickets for an afternoon show. I worked out, then met ES, her mom, their cousin, and SB for lunch at Ruby Foo’s. Unlike the night before, the food was really good. I got the pad thai, which usually isn’t filling enough for me, but this one was chock full of shrimp, chicken, tofu, soybeans, and other veggies.
While ES, her mom, and cousin went to see The Color Purple, which I’ve already seen, SB and I headed to Macy’s. However, after walking five very crowded blocks, I decided I couldn’t take it. I hung out at home instead, surfing the net and packing my stuff for the weekend.
After the show ES came back uptown, and she, SB, SB’s husband, and I went out to dinner. Italian this time. Then ES and I had a quiet night in, watching the end of the Madonna concert (that woman is in shape, to say the least) and Top Chef, which was fun to watch with another fan.
Thursday morning we were up early to go to the parade. The weather was HORRIBLE. Cold and rainy. My hands were numb by the end. First we waited for the bus. Waited and waited and waited. Finally, we just walked it, which didn’t take too long, but of course it’d have been better if the weather were nicer.
We couldn’t get too close to the parade itself. You had to have special tickets to sit on the bleachers, which were on the east side of Central Park West. To get the the west side of the street would have meant going all the way down the 42nd Street and taking the S train, and coming back up. Ridiculous! But from where we were, we could see well enough.
This poor dog embodies how I felt during the parade:
We stayed for just half an hour, though it felt much longer. Trudged our way back to my apartment, then vegged for a good hour, watching the rest of the parade on TV.
The train out to New Jersey was cuh-RAY-zy. We got there just as our train arrived so I decided to bite the bullet and pay the surcharge onboard, but it was so crowded, the conductors never even collected our tickets.
For Thanksgiving dinner my parents and I had Mongolian hotpot, as opposed to turkey and such.
A warm and hearty meal.
Friday we hit the mall in the afternoon, and after that is when my mother and I had our fight. Fast forward to that night after we made up. I do have to say she reached out to me first, which pre-divorce she’d have NEVER done. So that’s a step forward.
Saturday I saw ES again, the only reason I stayed for so long. Otherwise I’d have left Saturday afternoon. While Thursday was rainy and horrible, the rest of the weekend was gorgeous. ES and I walked around Princeton, which is decked out now for Christmas. Then we met our from AY for dinner at this new place, the Witherspoon Grill. So good. I had the lobster pot pie. Yum!
It was pretty early when we finished, maybe 8:30, and so we got dessert at the Bent Spoon, a new and very popular “organic, artisan ice cream” place, which I think is just a fancy way of saying gelato.
ES got the sour cream and dark chocolate sorbet. Big thumb up from me. I got the vanilla, which was very good standard vanilla, and AY got the egg nog and bourbon, which both seemed full of booze.
After dessert, we headed to AY’s condo nearby and just hung out and gabbed gabbed gabbed till almost one in the morning.
Got back to my place yesterday afternoon. Another upside to the weekend is that now I’m ahead for NaNoWriMo. I’m currently at 46,468, which leaves 3,532 to spread out over the next four days, today included. Very doable.
This morning I was actually happy to be back at work, or at least socializing with people who are not my parents. My upcoming vacation in early December involves seeing a lot of family, including my mother who will also be in L.A., and I’m dreading it now as a result of this weekend.
But it’s just once a year, so I’ll just suck it up and be a good kid. Besides, the bulk of the time will be just me and my brother and that’s always chill.
06
Oct 06
Dancing, noodles, coffee
Last night I saw the So You Think You Can Dance dancers in concert.
Although I felt like a loser sitting there with all the teeny boppers, it was pretty fun overall. The theatre seats 5,600 and was PACKED to the gills. We were very far away. Like we needed binoculars. Luckily S. brought a pair.
The 40-something mother of two in front of us was WAY too into Travis, clapping super hard and pumping her fist in the air whenever he came on. Yikes.
Then again, pot. Kettle. Black.
Although I had dinner before, when the show let out at 10:30, I was STARVING, and so stopped in Koreantown at my favorite cha-jang myun place. If you don’t already know, cha-jang myun is noodles with black bean sauce.
Koreans call this dish “Chinese food,” but I’ve never seen it on any menu in Chinatown, or in China for god’s sake. So I was surprised to overhear the waitress at the restaurant actually speaking in Mandarin. Hmm, now I’m really confused.
Tonight I’m going out for a change. PL’s literary magazine is holding a reading, and then we’re going out to eat afterwards. Yay!
Since I was out late last night and will be up past my bedtime tonight, I’m having some for-real coffee. Usually I never would, if I wanted to get to sleep on time. ::hyperhyperhyper!::
Heading out to the ‘rents tomorrow. Change of scenery.
MySpace bites the big one.
23
Feb 06
The Tokyo Diaries: Food
Food glorious food! I just can’t get enough.
This is the lovely buckwheat tea we had our first night at dinner.
The delish sashimi.
The tempura, which included some mysterious vegetables, one of which looked like broccoli but was very bitter, and another which looked almost like a potato but was firmer and almost gingery in flavor.
Included in our conveyer belt sushi spread were these baby eels.
I found that they didn’t have much of a flavor, but they did indeed have beady little eyes that kept staring at me as I ate them.
Our round of okonomiyaki in Kamakura.
And my melon soda.
Saw lots of cool stuff from the street as well, like storewindow food displays.
And whatever this is.
Also, vending machines were everywhere, and dispensed not only soda, water, and juice. . .
. . .but coffee, cold AND hot, in cans.
I had an excellent hot espresso in a can in Yanaka on our last day.
But not everything we ate in Japan was good, like this fried cheese/rice ball we got at McDonald’s.
The Japanese do NOT know how to do cheese. Blech and double blech.
But everyone was very nice, including this silly guy.
