In the Soup

April introspection

Posted on April 9, 2014 by The soup lady

Since moving to the east coast as a teenager, April has come to signify for me the changing of the seasons, when nor’easters ease their threats and the weather starts to warm. I can honestly say that I have become more attuned to the arrival of spring since leaving the mono-climate of LA. But with this greater acuteness also comes more complicated musings–thoughts of history (both personal and worldly), questions of self-purpose, and wonderings about heritage past and future. April doesn’t come quietly anymore, though I work to keep the stirrings contained within me, letting the daily busy-ness distract me.

You see, I was born in April 1975, amidst the fall of Saigon. I came into this world under a bed in a hospital where all the lights were turned off due to an intense bombing raid. I’ve told the story many times and yet there is the safety of distance, of living and knowing, but not of remembering or feeling. But there is no denying that my identity is rooted to this time of immense bloodshed, international struggle, familial tragedy. Many years later, I still come back to this beginning, as if seeking comfort in knowing my place in a bigger story.

My story is neither unique, nor is it new. Like so many Southern Vietnamese families, the fall of Saigon signified the fall of my family. In an instant, everything was gone, survival became a struggle and families were dispersed as loved ones were sent off to re-education camps to endure unspeakable hardships. For me, these are simply stories, none of which I can truly lay claim to as my own. I can’t recall what it was like to see my father taken away. I can’t recall our struggle to survive. And I most definitely can’t recall the boat trip that threatened our lives but then saved us all. In some ways, I am no different from you in this respect–we are both just the audience.

And yet, it’s April again and my birthday is once more around the corner. Most days I know exactly who I am and what I am doing here on this earth, but my birthday, like a strong drink, blurs reality just enough to make me wonder anew. What if? What if I had not been born during that time, in that place? Who would I be then? What if I could remember all those awful things? Would I be overwhelmed by the feelings of loss and fear?

So, for a few days, I wonder and allow myself to consider the power of memories, even those that you can’t remember and those that you keep at bay. And then I stop, until next year.

Posted in musings | Tagged April, memories, Saigon, Vietnam | Leave a comment

Vietnamese-Americana, or at least how I remember it

Posted on January 27, 2014 by The soup lady

I know it’s just my age group and all, but there’s been a lot of articles and social media posts about turning 40, as if no other group has done so before us. Instead, we feel the need to publicly share all our angst–acting more like the millennials that we so disdain. Some of us take to extolling the virtues of being 40 over 20, as if we don’t miss our former svelte selves and prefer the wisdom afforded by our middle years. I don’t know about you, but I know lots of people in their late 30s and 40s who continue to lack any true wisdom. Other articles lament receding hair lines and encroaching crows feet, as if we’ve forgotten the acne problems or experimental facial hair efforts (goatee anyone?) of our youth. And yet others take on new exercise and diet regiments with much gusto, literally trying to eat, bike, and run ourselves back into our 20s (when we didn’t exercise at all). Why not yoga? Apparently that was so 2012, now it’s all about the biking and running gear. (How do you pronounce Lululemon anyhow?) Blah. Whatever happened to just getting a convertible? And then there are the cultural references that only us newly-40 or nearly-40 types would understand and find funny: Reality Bites, LA Gear versus Reebok high tops, ‘N Sync versus NKOTB (both are equally cringe-worthy IMO), Atari, and the endless Star Wars jokes/memes/quizzes.

While I get all of these inside jokes and commentary, I grew up Vietnamese-American, a very particularly subset of American culture that is clearly under-represented in these articles. So, in honor of the upcoming Tet celebration, and all my Viet peeps turning 40 this year and next, here are some reference points about the past that only my Vietnamese-American peers would get:

1) Video cassettes, and lots of them. Hong Kong serials ruled the family life, from Legend of the Condor Heroes to Police Cadet, Tony Leung Chiu Wai and Chow Yun Fat were our heroes, and Barbara Yung was our heroine. I know these are all Chinese actors, but we Viet re-appropriated them as our own long before Couching Tiger, Hidden Dragon or In the Mood for Love hit western screens. Some 30+ years later and Tony Leung is still awesome. And even if you didn’t watch any of these serials, you know what I’m talking about.

2) Uncles and aunts, oh my! Every time our family met another family I seemed to gain more aunts and uncles. Only when I was a teenager did I realize that we weren’t actually related to most of them, but unfortunately, we were related to some. But still, I remember be dragged from house to house where us kids would always get thrown together and expected to get along. In reality, we all glowered at each other, trying to be more American than the others, and wondering why we weren’t allowed to hang out at the mall like other kids our age.

3) Medical school was the first choice, law school was the back up, and heaven forbid you’d need a third! Well, I took the road WAY-less traveled.

4) Tennis and volleyball, aka Asian sports. These were the only sports that Vietnamese-American kids played in high school. I followed suit and was on the tennis team. Who knows how cool we all would’ve been if only there had been table tennis to challenge us!

5) Holiday meals–what’s a turkey? We never had turkey at Thanksgiving, but I can guarantee you that our holiday meals could produce the very same food-induced coma! Holidays meant endless eating: heo quay (whole roast pig), bo 7 mon (beef seven ways), banh xeo (sizzling crepes), banh cuon (soft crepes), goi cuon (fresh rolls), goi tom ga (cabbage salad with pork and shrimp), cha gio (egg rolls), mi xao (stir-fried egg noodles), cua rang muoi (salt fried shrimp), sup mang cua (asparagus and crab soup)–pick any 6-8 dishes and you’d have Christmas dinner.

And if that isn’t enough, the Tet menu usually adds banh chung (steamed sticky rice with salted pork), banh tet (steamed sticky rice with either salted pork or banana), hu qua ham (steamed bitter melon stuffed with pork and shrimp), and a whole host of keo (candy), including candied coconut and sesame brittle.

6) New Wave music, Brother Louie anyone? It didn’t matter if Michael Jackson and Madonna ruled the airwaves, all the Viet kids were swaying to Modern Talking and Depeche Mode. And of course, we had the wardrobe to match: black.

7) Speaking of music, Paris by Night. Just typing those three words gives me the heebeejeebees. I am almost certain that most of my peers disliked this variety show as much as I did, but it continues to have a strong following even by the younger generation. For the uninitiated, check out youtube for performers and hosts speaking in the proper northern Vietnamese accents, wearing thick make-up (especially the middle-aged dudes), and even the occasional tattooed eyebrow. In all seriousness, the shows were hardly ever shot in Paris and always consisted of a mix of classic Vietnamese songs, covers of mainstream American pop, as well as comedic skits.

8) Aqua Net. Okay, so here’s one thing that we shared with the non-Viet crowd: crispy hair. I can still see the perms with the big bangs in front. Yikes. I am guilty here but you will never get the photos to prove it.

I’m sure I forgot something. What did I leave out?

Posted in musings, Uncategorized | Tagged Americana, Paris by night, Tet | 3 Comments

Ga uop xa: lemongrass chicken

Posted on November 5, 2013 by The soup lady

The sister of a friend recently wondered why I haven’t been posting recipes. Well, clearly she hasn’t read my last few posts about the juggling of work and family. Hopefully, she’ll see this post and know that it’s for her!

Lemongrass chicken is a dish that I make often, especially for a super easy weekday dinner that can be scaled up or down as needed. I like to use dark meat–legs, thighs, drumsticks–which is more flavorful and more forgiving if you overcook. If possible, I prefer to grill the chicken, but it works equally as well in the oven and even yields a lovely sauce to spoon over some rice.

1/4 cup lemongrass, minced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 small shallot, minced
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1 tablespoon soy sauce
2 tablespoons light brown sugar
1 teaspoon chili garlic sauce (optional)
1/4 cup grape seed oil
4 medium-large chicken legs (about 1 1/2 lbs total)

Note: I used more chicken in the photos below as I was cooking for the Commune, but the recipe is scaled for four legs.

Combine first 8 ingredients and stir to combine. Place chicken legs in a glass baking dish and cut a slit on the thigh and another on the drumstick. Pour marinade over chicken legs and marinate in the refrigerator for one hour.

Pre-heat oven to 400 F. Bake chicken on middle rack for about 40-45 minutes until meat thermometer reads 165 F. Chicken should be nice and golden. Remove from oven and serve immediately with white rice and sautéed vegetables, such as baby bok choy. Pairs beautifully with a Sancerre or crisp pinot grigio. Serves two very hungry people or four less hungry people.

Posted in recipes | Tagged bok choy, chicken, lemongrass, rice | Leave a comment

Busy

Posted on October 20, 2013 by The soup lady

This is my first post in over two months. Yikes. To say that life has been busy is an understatement. Many of my working-mom/dad friends out there will completely understand the daily juggling act of morning routines, drop-offs, pick-ups, office work, work calls during kung fu class, homework, grocery shopping, cooking, cleaning, laundry, work emails in the evening, etc. The list is endless. But the past ten days has been crazy on a whole different scale, for in addition to the usual mix of competing priorities and tasks, multiple other factors–none of which on their own or even combined with another one is usually disruptive in any significant way–converged to create the perfect storm. Allow me to elaborate:

– Day ten: Arrival of grandparents to celebrate Soup-er Girl’s third birthday. They stopped to have lunch with Mr. No Nom at his state-of-the-art tech company east coast headquarters (you’ll have to guess the company). Dinner was Indian takeout from Punjab.

– Day nine: Day one of Soup-er Boy’s soccer tournament in Natick, a 30 minute drive. There are two back-to-back matches and the female half of the family can only make the second game–just in time to experience some truly horrific behavior on the part of the opponents’ parents and coaches. There were loud, obnoxious, aggressive, and sometimes even profane-laced shouts and admonishment, all of which were addressed to their own team! Ugh. I hate to generalize, but there is a BIG difference between the urban and suburban cheering crowds. Soccer was followed by lunch at the Sichuan Gourmet outpost in Framingham, MA. Dinner was chicken pho at home.

– Day eight: Soup-er Girl’s birthday and the second day of the tournament. Two more back-to-back soccer matches followed by lunch at Oga’s in Natick, MA, where the service staff surprised Soup-er Girl with some deep-fried ice cream, candles and a rendition of Happy Birthday. We had a family celebration for Soup-er Girl, which included long-time family friends and their children. All in all, I made dinner for 10 adults and five children. Dinner was a Turkish feast, with red lentil soup (from the Sultan’s Kitchen cookbook), lamb meatballs (from the NYT), herb-stuffed tomatoes (from Yotam Ottolenghi’s Plenty), greek salad, and a birthday cake (from Tous Les Jours).

– Day seven: While most folks had the day off, I woke up at 4:30 AM to make a 7:00 AM flight to DC for a conference in Bethesda, MD. Ugh. I spent the day exhausted and trying to hide it. Alas, while I was attending dry sessions on patient centered medical homes (full of acronyms that I have not yet mastered), things at home were getting a little, um, complicated. From a series of texts and phone calls Mr. No Nom informed me of the adventures he was having on the home front. Taking advantage of some lovely fall weather, he and the grandparents took the kids to the Boston Common, where Mr. No Nom lost his keys, which meant that he could not retrieve the car from the parking garage. With tired kids in tow, the group took a taxi home just in time for the grandparents to pack, hop back into the taxi, and head to the airport for their return trip. Alas, some good Samaritan found and turned the keys into the Park Rangers’ office and Mr. No Nom made plans to retrieve keys and cars the next day. Have no idea what they ate for dinner.

– Day six: Second day at the conference and things are beginning to make a little more sense to me. But my phone continues buzzing with text messages, I hear that unfortunately, things were getting more exciting on the home front. Without a car, Mr. No Nom had arranged for Mrs. Next Doors to take Soup-er Girl to school with her little one. With the kids all strapped in, Mrs. Next Doors discovered that the car wouldn’t start. D’oh! Next Doors’ other car was already in the shop–apparently with a mouse nest inside the engine. Uh oh. Little ones get to daycare a bit late via stroller. Mr. No Nom manages to get keys and car via bike and Mrs. Next Doors rents a car. I straggle home on a late flight from DC in time to tuck the kids in and collapse on the couch with a gin and tonic.

– Day four: Frantic day of driving all over Cambridge to make and miss appointments. Mr. No Nom’s cousin was visiting us for a few days and I needed to pick her up in Cambridge on my way home. No problem, right? Wrong. First I had to get to a long-standing and oft-postponed lunch with a friend. But due to traffic, she is late and lunch finishes late. Throughout lunch, I get texts from said cousin about various difficulties locating her luggage, etc. and have to re-arrange pick up time and location. All in all, I spent over an hour navigating Cambridge traffic (and major road work) to get to the cousin and bring her home, where I feed the poor famished soul with some leftover chicken pho. Lucky cousin.

Day three: This was supposed to be my day off, so I made plans with the cousin to head to the Museum of Science in the morning. Gah. While cousin skipped about excitedly–did I mention that she’s a grown woman in graduate studies?–from one geeky exhibit to the next, I fielded work calls amongst the throngs of screaming children. I felt really old and full of responsibilities. Next, I drop her off for lunch with Mr. No Nom at the aforementioned state-of-the-art tech company. I spend the rest of the afternoon trying to catch up on laundry and housecleaning. Dinner was the cousin’s introduction to Bon Chon. We all went to bed happy, tired and full.

Day two: And the lull ends. There is a packed schedule that includes a soccer game, getting cousin to the airport, babysitter for Soup-er Girl, and my participation in the interview process for the Asian American Women’s Political Initiative’s State House Fellowship program. Exhausted (but incredibly inspired and humbled by the AAWPI candidates and alumnae) I stumble home and order Thai for dinner. After getting the kids down, I spend the next three hours baking cupcakes for Soup-er Girl’s belated birthday party with her little friends.

Which bring us to today, day one. After staying up late to bake cupcakes, I am up early to deal with the usual kid morning routine while Mr. No Nom is off at a pick-up soccer game. Oy. Mrs. Next Doors soon drops off her little one as we will take her to the party with us while Mrs. Next Doors is otherwise occupied. Double oy. As the kids take in some Sesame Street, I whip up pink frosting for the cupcakes–Soup-er Girl had requested pink Yoda cupcakes. Alas, the stencil wouldn’t cooperate and with less than hour to party time, I aborted Yoda and went with sprinkles. I don’t think she even cared. Sigh. The party went off without a hitch–12 little girls jumping and twirling about in purple and blue tutus is a sight that would make even the most tired mom smile. I can’t believe my baby is three… sniff, sniff.

So there you have it. After such a crazy ten days, this afternoon was blissfully quiet, which is how I have time to compose this post. Dinner–marinated flank steak, mashed potatoes, asparagus, and arugula salad–is being prepared by Next Doors, so I won’t even have to worry about clean up. And, there’s leftover cupcakes for dinner. All is okay for now.

Posted in musings, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Family food: com gia dinh

Posted on August 3, 2013 by The soup lady

Sometimes dinner is just dinner–nothing fancy, nothing complicated. Way back in the day when my family ran a restaurant in SoCal (a venture that failed rather spectacularly), we offered com phan gia dinh (family dinner). Every evening, families who had reserved portions of the family dinner would arrive with multi-compartment tiffin containers, into which would be ladled soups, stir-fried vegetables, braised meat/fish, and rice. You paid by the portion, so one portion would provide enough of each dish for one person. The portions were generous and the prices ridiculously cheap–for $8-10 dollars, you could have a fantastic multi-course dinner.

The dishes would be the kind Vietnamese mothers and grandmothers made–hearty and satisfying. Dishes were rotated daily so that you would never get the same things twice in a week. Soups were of the canh variety–clear-broth with veggies and maybe some meat or seafood. The meat/fish course could be braised thit heo kho (braised pork and eggs), ca kho to (braised caramel catfish), or even suon nuong (grilled pork chops). The veggies could be rau muong (water spinach) or mustard greens or bok choy. And, jasmine rice, of course. Sometimes there may be dessert, some kind of che (pudding).

Although my family’s restaurant got a lot of business for these family dinners, we often passed judgement on the clients: only families who couldn’t cook would order out every night. Now as a working mother, I would gladly pay for such a service! Alas, no such service exists in Arlington. So, I often make my own com gia dinh, and tonight it featured steamed fish with ginger and scallions, fried bitter melon with scrambled eggs, stir-fried baby bok choy, and rice. I sent some over for the gia dinh (family) next door, too!

Note: I would prefer to steam whole fish, but fillets work well when whole is not an option.

Steamed fish with ginger and scallion:
1 lb flaky white fish fillet (flounder, cod, hake)
2 scallions, thinly sliced on the diagonal
2-inch piece of ginger, peeled and julienned and a few slices finely chopped
2 small shallot, finely chopped
2 tablespoons neutral oil (canola, sunflower)
3 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons Chinese cooking wine
2 tablespoons chicken stock
steaming dish and bamboo steamer set over a wok

Bitter melon:
1 large bitter melon, sliced in half length-wise, pitted, and thinly sliced
2 tablespoons neutral oil
2 garlic cloves finely minced
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon fish sauce
black pepper for garnish

Bok choy:
1/2 lb baby bok choy, trimmed, rinsed, and sliced in half lengthwise
1 tablespoon neutral oil
1 teaspoon fish sauce

Steamed fish: Arrange fish fillet in steaming dish (glass or porcelain dish), sprinkle a couple of pieces of ginger atop, cover tightly and steam for 12-18 minutes depending on thickness of the fillet. In the meantime, heat oil in a small sauce pan, saute shallots and chopped ginger until fragrant (about 20 seconds), add soy sauce, rice wine, and stock/water. Bring to a low simmer and remove from heat. Once fish is cooked (should be flaky and opaque), carefully drain as much fish liquid as possible and sprinkle with scallions and julienned ginger. Bring sauce to a quick boil and then pour immediately over fish, scallions, and ginger.

Bitter melon: Heat oil in a frying pan until hot, then add garlic stirring until fragrant. Add bitter melon and saute until cooked but still crisp (about 4 minutes). Add fish sauce. Add beaten eggs and stir-fry, breaking up big chunks of scrambled eggs, until cooked through. Serve with a dash of freshly ground black pepper.

Baby bok choy: Heat oil in a sauce until hot, add garlic then bok choy and stir-fry until cooked but still crisp–about 3 minutes. Add fish sauce.

Serve immediately with jasmine rice and cold beer or a dry Sauvignon Blanc.

Posted in recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged bitter melon, bok choy, cod, com phan, ginger and scallions | Leave a comment

Summertime baking: blueberry-lemon tart

Posted on July 27, 2013 by The soup lady

Growing up, I often craved American foods that my family did not make, such as mashed potatoes, spaghetti and meatballs, pizza, and apple pie. As a teenager, I mustered the courage to try making some of these dishes–thinking about those first forays into American cuisine now make me cringe. Where to start? Mashed potatoes out of a box–check. Spaghetti sauce out of a jar–check. Frozen pizza and pie crusts–check, check. I really can’t believe that I ate that stuff and thought it was good–not sure what that says about me or American cuisine…

Thankfully, these days I have a better palate and can make a variety of American dishes from scratch. (And yes, I know spaghetti and meatballs is Italian, but you get the point.) As we reach the middle of summer, one of my favorite American things to make is blueberry-lemon tart. Nothing epitomizes summer in New England like a tart with bursting blueberries, with the sweetness balanced by the acidity of lemon zest and juice. For this tart, I’ve married two different recipes; the crust is from a peach kuchen recipe and the filling is from an Epicurious one. Enjoy!

Crust:
1 1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 stick unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
2 tablespoons sour cream
(Note: You will need a fluted tart pan with removable bottom, or a springform pan also works.)

Filling:
1 cup buttermilk
3 large egg yolks
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon freshly grated lemon zest
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) unsalted butter, melted and cooled
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups picked over blueberries
some powdered sugar for dusting (about 1 tablespoon)

Crust: Heat oven to 375F. In a food processor, quickly blend flour, salt, butter until it reaches cornmeal consistency (about 10-15 seconds). Add sour cream and blend until dough begins to form into a ball. Remove dough from the processor, pat into a ball wrap in plastic and refrigerate for 15 minutes. Once dough has rested, remove from wrapping and using your palm and fingers, press the dough firmly into the fluted pan (all the way up the sides too), being careful not to leave any gaps or cracks. This dough is pretty forgiving, so if you make a hole, just patch it by pressing the dough together. Line top of dough with some foil and place pie weights atop–you can also use dry beans or rice. Bake crust at 375 F on the middle rack for about 20 minutes or until edges start to turn golden, removing foil and pie weights after about 10 minutes. Set aside and allow to cool completely.

Note: With a removable bottom pan, it is often easier to bake with a cookie sheet underneath to facilitate ease of movement into and out of oven.

Filling: Heat oven to 350F. Combine buttermilk, egg yolks, sugar, lemon zest, lemon juice, butter, vanilla, salt, and flour in a flour and whisk until smooth. When crust is cool, arrange blueberries in a single layer and then pour buttermilk mixture on them. Bake tart on the middle rack for 30-35 minutes, until the filling is just set. Cool completely and dust with powdered sugar.

Posted in recipes, Uncategorized | Tagged blueberry, buttermilk, dessert | Leave a comment

Summer: the puzzle gets ever more complicated

Posted on July 8, 2013 by The soup lady

Summer has finally arrived, and with it, the complicated family, work, camp, daycare puzzle gets even more complicated. (Yes, I did just write “work”; more on that in a moment.) With the warmer weather, we also get to deal with different start/end times for a variety of camps, vacation planning/packing/re-entry, later bedtimes, later wake times, bug bites, sunblock application (and multiple re-applications), additional camp/daycare equipment (towels, swimsuits, water bottles, hats, water shoes), all the while continuing to make sure that everyone gets breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a bath. Just seeing this in print makes my head ache.

Naturally, the first day of camp/daycare after a late night arrival from Montreal would yield a host of forgotten items: water shoes, towels, sun hat, water bottle, daycare check. Bleh. Luckily the kids took it all in stride while their mother appeared more harried than usual, barking orders into a cell phone to get missing items from Mr. No Nom and Mrs. Next Doors as I navigated rush hour traffic to make a 9:30 conference call. My transformation into crazy-working-mom is complete. Sigh. And so begins a new chapter in life.

This new chapter includes my position as Director of Development at a dynamic, young nonprofit working to address the shortage of primary care providers. (If you need a primer on the bumps and doubts of my 9-month job search, click here.) In an attempt to keep my personal and professional lives somewhat separate, the details of this new position won’t make it onto the pages of this blog. All I will say is that it’s a part-time position that affords me a high degree of flexibility while also satisfying my need to be a part of something big for the common good.

What I will share is how being a working mother of two will affect my family life, including my ability to cook those complicated and time-consuming Vietnamese dishes. Alas, I haven’t had much time to add to my recipe file and I’m afraid that my weekly repertoire will be dictated by the juggling of pick up times. Four weeks into life as a working mom and most of the ambitious cooking has been confined to the weekends, but I promise to keep trying and will get some new recipes up in the coming weeks. In the meantime, take pity on this working mom and be patient.

Posted in musings, Uncategorized | Tagged camp, daycare, working | 2 Comments

Fine dining

Posted on June 18, 2013 by The soup lady

When I was growing up, fancy meals were the stuff of wedding Chinese banquets–or rather, Chinese-American versions of the ten course meals complete with a large platter of lobster with scallion and ginger at the end. (Please don’t ask me why Vietnamese families, with a strong anti-Chinese bent, still celebrate momentous occasions with ten course Chinese banquets! I simply do not know.) I think the Vietnamese element of these feasts was the addition of big bottles of cognac (VSOP Hennessy), but I might be mistaken. At any rate, these banquets were the staple of my fine dining experience. I particularly enjoyed the shark fin soup, whole steamed flounder, and platter of cold appetizers, which always included my favorite: jelly fish. But I never cared for the walnut shrimp, which had a yucky mayonnaise dipping sauce, or the red bean soup.

How different things are now for Soup-er Boy and Girl. They’ve been exposed to more fine dining in their short lifetimes then I during my first 18 years. Most recently, we spent a weekend in Portland, ME, where we took them to a number of fantastic restaurants–and not always with stellar results. First up was Pai Men Miyake, a ramen and yakitori joint from the folks behind Miyake. After a long (and trafficky) drive up from Boston, they were hungry and tired but managed to behave well enough to down some dumplings, kalbi yakitori and ramen. Their parents thoroughly enjoyed the lobster ceviche, pan seared pork buns, black tsuke ramen (dipped in squid ink) and seafood ramen.

Next up was Eventide, a new seafood restaurant with an impressive list of fresh oysters and other offerings from the sea. We had high hopes of cooperation from the kids with outside seating and fried cod on the menu. Alas, it was not to be. While their parents savored the briniest oysters from Maine and the amazing brown butter lobstah rolls, the kids picked at the chicken sandwich and fluffy fried cod. Seriously, that cod was beyond heavenly and we had to make them eat it. Ugh.

The main (ha!) purpose of this getaway was to celebrate Mr. No Nom’s birthday and Father’s Day, so we had made reservations at Fore Street. We couldn’t go to Portland and not eat at Fore Street, children or no children. We had an early reservation to make sure that Soup-er Girl wouldn’t have any late evening meltdowns. To my surprise, the server even mentioned kids entrees–pasta, roast chicken, and roasted pork loin. I probably would’ve chosen the pork loin for the kids to share but they insisted on pasta, which Soup-er Boy spent the meal poking at and Soup-er Girl would intermittently spit out. Sigh. Really? Here we were in a fabulous restaurant with amazingly fresh and seasonal ingredients and she’s spitting out the linguine?! Argh. Luckily, that was extent of their shenanigans and they were otherwise well-behaved enough (especially for dessert) for us to enjoy some delicious food. I was particularly fond of the whole roasted black snapper stuffed with hen of the woods and shiitake mushrooms–the most rich and perfect fish dish I’ve had in a long time. We were so stuffed that we vowed to fast the next day.

The fast only lasted 16 hours as we looked at each other and decided that we couldn’t be just blocks from Duckfat without making a stop. Given the lunchtime crowd and the smallness of the space, we were seated at a table with high stools, but fortunately they supplied us with a clip-on high chair for Soup-er Girl. Unfortunately, she wasn’t interested in using it. Sigh. When we ordered, I was pleasantly surprised to hear Soup-er Boy ask for the pork belly panini–plain of course, but still! I hoped rather than believed that Soup-er Girl would share the panini with her brother. And indeed, I was right. Not only did she not eat panini but she proceeded to continuously spit out food after voluntarily putting it her mouth! On the verge of losing it and taking her outside for a timeout, I decided to just screw it. I was going to enjoy my food (pork belly panini with the fixin’s, roasted broccoli salad, famous Duckfat fries with truffle ketchup, and powdered-sugar donut holes). Everything was fantastic and I even managed to somewhat ignore the fact that Soup-er Boy wasn’t eating his food either. Oh well. Two steps forward, one step back.

I confess I’m not terribly surprised by their lack of interest in all this foodie stuff but I’m certainly not going to let it keep me from continuing to drag them to try different cuisines and foods. The aspect that does give me pause is the cost. Fine dining does not come cheap and there is a part of me that wonders if I am being wasteful–perhaps they’re simply not ready. But I don’t want to wait so long that their taste buds are no longer malleable. I also want them to appreciate that these eating experiences are a privilege, one that I did not have growing up. So then, how to do I continue to foster a healthy appreciation for interesting, well-prepared food without turning into a chore and a waste for all of us? Ahh. Perhaps I just need to remember the story about the girl who grew up eating only Vietnamese and Chinese food but still turned out to be quite the foodie.

Posted in musings, travel | Tagged Chinese banquet, Duckfat, Eventide, fine dining, Fore Street, lobster, oysters, Pai Men Miyake, Portland, ramen | Leave a comment

“The best vacation ever”

Posted on May 5, 2013 by The soup lady

“This is the best vacation ever.”

Those were the words spoken by Soup-er Boy about our recent trip to Tulum, Mexico. High praise indeed from a well-traveled seven year-old. This trip marked our family’s first trip south of the border, and I must admit that I’m rather smitten with the Riviera Maya. After a long and cold New England winter, I was expecting great weather and beautiful beaches, but Tulum and the surrounding area gave us so much more–a breathtaking coastline, refreshing food, abundant wildlife, and ancient ruins.

As per our usual travel style, we rented a vacation home on peaceful Tankah Bay, some 10 km north of Tulum. Villa Zama was simply decorated and had wide folding glass doors that opened up entirely on the ocean side, letting in the sea breeze and allowing Soup-er Girl full access to the outdoors. Most days, we had the entire bay to ourselves; I think we saw less than 10 people the whole time we were there. When we weren’t out exploring the cenote, Mayan ruins, Tulum pueblo, or the magnificent beaches, we just lazed about in the hammocks, sun bathed on the loungers, explored the reef, or snorkeled a few meters from the house.

The house and Tankah Bay were our little corner of peace and quiet, which was both soothing and oddly discomfiting given the events that took place in Boston during our trip. Initially, I found it hard to relax and enjoy myself while there was so much turmoil back home. But the kids were happy, so happy, and it’s hard not to relax when time starts to flow slower and your sleep cycle is in synch with the sun and moon. So despite the occasional jolt of news from home (and the annoyingly loud birds at precisely 6:00 am), we managed to enjoy our surroundings and found a bit of paradise.

Soup-er Boy, in particular, just blossomed under the hot Mexican sun. I will always remember this as the trip when he became a big kid. No longer the little kid who was uneasy in the water, he turned into a fish, snorkeling and diving every day in the bay (protected by the world’s second longest barrier reef) and nearby cenote (freshwater lagoons). We even took him on a tour of the Sian Ka’an biosphere, where he floated down ancient canals in a mangrove forest. Unlike previous trips, he never complained about eating out and always managed to find something on the menu that he could wrap in a tortilla “sandwich.” He didn’t even complain about having to share a bed with his little sister–I actually think he enjoyed sleeping with her and having time in the morning with just the two of them. He enjoyed exploring the Mayan ruins in Tulum and Coba, asking our guides questions about Mayan culture and ancient sports. Suddenly so grown up, he was eager to experience new things and it was a joy to watch him mature before my very eyes. I watched him carefully on this trip, gauging his ability to absorb and interact with the new surroundings. From kicking around a football (aka soccer ball) with the caretaker’s grandson to watching out for his sister and figuring out what to order at a restaurant, he exuded a new sense of self-confidence, which was both delightful and a bit bittersweet. There were times when I caught a glimpse of the future teenager–his confident gait as he walked with his hands in his pockets looking intently ahead, deep in thought somewhere far away. My boy… for now.

There is a part of me that believes (or hopes) Soup-er Boy acquired his curiosity about the world from his parents and all the international trips that we’ve taken together: Spain, Bermuda, Vancouver, France, and Portugal. He might not recall much from those previous trips, but there must be some part of him that remembers the thrill of seeing new people and things, of experiencing something different from the (protected) world he inhabits. He has recently asked to go to Vietnam, a significant trip (on so many levels) that we currently have penciled in for 2015, when he will be almost ten. I hope that his curiosity and appreciation for other cultures continues to stay with him as he gets older. And if we’re lucky, perhaps his sister will follow in his footsteps.

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Habanero surprise: I love Mexican food!

Posted on May 3, 2013 by The soup lady

It’s no secret that I am not the biggest fan of Mexican food. Growing up in SoCal, I was surrounded by Mexican eateries–taco stands, Tex-Mex chain restaurants, and countless mom-and-pop establishments–but I never really embraced the food and I’m not sure why. I never really embraced Spanish either, leaving the signs and menus even more foreign, which is odd considering most of SoCal is littered with Spanish billboards and advertisements.

Like many other Vietnamese-American families, my family kept their distance from the Mexican-American community, preferring to think that Asian-Americans were a step above (or maybe even two) on the social ladder. Though I didn’t agree with this perspective, I did little to challenge it. In school I was learning about racism, social justice, and the inheritance of colonialism, but I seldom brought those lessons home. Instead, I was concerned with the usual teenage issues: college preparation, social cliques, boys, and gaining independence. So why bother challenging family values when I was trying so desperately trying to get away from family? And when I finally did gain said independence, it took me to New England (and not South of border, which was only 2 hours away), where good Mexican food is actually harder to find than good Vietnamese food.

And so with a pretty strong fear of refried beans, burritos and enchiladas, I was more than a little apprehensive about the food as we planned our spring break to Tulum, Mexico, some 100 kilometers south of glitzy (and over-touristed) Cancun. I had fears of heavy meals full of meat, cheese, and beans. But I was wrong, so very wrong.

We ate gloriously in Tulum. To my utter surprise, I found the food to be very fresh and light, not at all heavy or greasy. Given the proximity to the sea, there is an abundance of seafood and we had everything from grilled fish and shrimp to octopus and ceviche. Ummm, ceviche. I think I had ceviche every day, which, really isn’t such a bad thing. My favorite kind of ceviche was the mixto, which usually consisted of fish (probably grouper), shrimp, and octopus. The most memorable ceviche was the one at Chamico’s on Solimon Bay; in addition to the fish and shrimp, this one also had sweet, crunchy chunks of sea conch. It was heavenly–and the view wasn’t bad either. In addition to the seafood, we also had excellent meat dishes, including juicy arrachera (flank steak), carnitas, pollo la plancha (grilled chicken), pollo Maya (chicken with tomatoes and onions), and pulpo la plancha (grilled octopus).

But ultimately, the hot sauces sealed the deal for me. I now dream of habanero peppers! Every meal (even breakfast) was accompanied by freshly made salsas and hot sauces. If we were lucky, the hot sauces were house-made and featured smoky, roasted habanero peppers. We had greens hot sauces, red, orange, tamarind, cilantro, etc. And it was all fantastic and complemented the local cuisine beautifully. The sweetness of fresh grilled shrimp and red snapper were perfectly enhanced by the tart and spicy sauces. Be still my stomach! The caretakers of our villa grew habaneros in the garden (which I had to warn the kids to not touch) and to their amusement, I asked if I could pick some. I crushed the fresh peppers with sea salt and sprinkled some on chilled watermelon and pineapple–so good! With all the spiciness going on, I was also in need of some refreshing drinks–and boy, did we ever indulge! We had beer and gin and tonics at the house, and then margaritas, caipirinhas, and mojitos when we dined out.

Feast on the photos below: