In the Soup

Hello readers!  It’s been just over a year since I started this blog and I’m still trying to get my footing.  Blogging has been quite an adventure and I’ve learned a few lessons (accompanied by a lot of ‘duh’ moments):

– Duh #1: It’s not easy to maintain consisting posting.  Even without a job, I find it hard to post consistently.  The added pressure of having to write a recipe and take good photos doesn’t help.

– Duh #2: Pictures are hard work!  Since our main meals are in the evening, lighting and general late-in-the-day family craziness makes taking photos of the cooking process and final dishes a challenge.  After a couple of months, I finally discovered the perfect spot for natural light in our kitchen–though that’s not entirely helpful when daylight disappears at 4:00 pm in New England.  And I joke that if one could ever pan out from my photos, you’d see a messy kitchen, toys strewn everywhere, and a toddler clinging to my leg.

– Duh #3: I have no idea what my “voice” is or supposed to be.  The focus of the blog is Vietnamese cooking, but how much can I deviate from that and still maintain a common thread?

– Duh #4: Vietnamese cooking is not easy, and it’s not easy to write the recipes and explain techniques.  The written word can only do so much and pictures are helpful, but I think I’m going to have to upgrade to add videos to demonstrate some of the harder techniques, such as making caramel sauce (without burning it!).

As I move forward with this blogging thing, I would love some feedback from my readers.   How is the format working for you?  Do you find the topics interesting?  Should I only post about Vietnamese food or would you welcome other recipes? Have the recipes worked?  Are there things I could do to make the recipes better?  And are there other dishes for which you would like me to post a recipe?  Anything else?  All thoughts and suggestions welcome!

With a slow-going job search on my hands, lately I’ve been having entrepreneurial thoughts. Given my family’s disastrous experiments with business initiatives (failed restaurants, lost money, strained familial ties, etc., etc.) I am rather hesitant to even consider starting my own business. And yet the thoughts (and accompanying doubts) persist. So, what to do?

Various ideas have been tossed around in my head and I have even said them aloud a few times… and to real people! One idea is to start a vacation planning business focused on families with young children. I could do all the research for airfare, car rentals, vacation home rentals, and even suggest itineraries for sightseeing and touring. Another idea is start a meal service for families with newborn babies. I’ve been cooking a lot for friends with newborns these past few months and have always been shown much gratitude. I’ve made wontons, meatballs, roast chicken, even vegan soups. Yet another idea is cooking lessons in people’s homes–either in groups or one-on-one. We would agree in advance on a meal and I would shop for all the ingredients ahead of time. Oh, and then there’s the scary idea of running a food truck–shiver!

And yet I hesitate. Aside from the obvious usual anxieties about starting a business from scratch (i.e. how do I do something that actual generates a profit?), my main concern has been how to address the nagging need to make a difference, to have some kind of social impact. I mean, well-fed people will surely be happier people, but what inroads would that make towards reducing poverty, stabilizing families or increasing social justice? One friend actually suggested that I could cook for single mothers once a week. Another suggested that I use cooking lessons as a way to promote collaboration and brainstorming for social initiatives. And yet. What if I can’t reach vulnerable groups? What if my only clients are picky and difficult? What if I begin to dislike planning and cooking? What if I don’t like working alone? What if I fail?

I just don’t know.

It’s hard to imagine myself actually taking on any of these ventures, and yet I am doing them (with the exception of the food truck) regularly. But there’s something about being self-employed that I just can’t wrap my head around. There’s another part of me that tells me that I need to be a part of something bigger–that there’s safety in numbers, both in terms of job security and performance towards goals. That same part of me also yearns for the more traditional forms of recognition: salary, title, and renowned employer. I can’t help it because on some level all of this does matter.

So, what to do? How have any of you dealt with competing professional goals?

It’s been over two months since I last posted and a lot has happened.  This blog is first and foremost about Vietnamese cooking, but I’ve always known that other topics would intrude.  I entitled the blog “in the soup” not just as a reference to all the wonderful Vietnamese soups that I love to make, but also as a reference to the complexities of life.  And I have been preoccupied with these complexities of late.

First, it was the election.  Though I hold liberal views for as long as I can remember, I do not usually consider myself to be very politically outspoken.  Living in ultra blue Massachusetts also made me less inclined to preach to the choir, and most of my friends are also pretty liberal.  But for some reason, the past two presidential elections have gotten me really worked up.  This time around, I found it hard to ignore the extreme positions and rhetoric espoused by the GOP and their presidential nominee.  I found myself oscillating between utter disbelief and anger.  My poor Facebook friends suffered a barrage of soapbox speeches on marriage equality, equal pay for equal work, access to family planning services, immigration reform, Obamacare, etc.  I even posted comments during the debates–using Facebook like a twitter account and disparaging the GOP ticket for everything from their policy positions to the sound of their voice and color of their spray tan.  I am thankful that no one unfriended me–that I know of–and that Mr. No Nom shares my values and is still my husband.  I (and my friends and family) breathed a heavy sigh of relief when it was all over.

Second, with Soup-er Girl finally starting daycare this past September, I finally launched into a painfully slow job search with a very narrow focus on venture philanthropy and nonprofit consulting.  Everyone can understand the cruelties of looking for work–whether you have pressing financial needs or looking for a career switch.  Writing resumes and cover letters are about as rewarding as eating a bad bowl of pho; not only do you have to find a way to toot your own horn without seeming to do so, but every job application is an invitation to be judged by strangers.  Oh, those automated email acknowledgements always say that applicants who are not further contacted shouldn’t feel any less accomplished, but really, does anyone ever buy that?  I know I don’t.  And then there’s the apprehension that I might actually get one of these jobs–yikes, how am I going to juggle a fulltime job and maintain the kind of family life to which we’ve grown accustomed?  How am I going to find the time to make giant vats of pho and bun bo hue?  At this point, I’m not sure if it’s better to be employed or not, though I surely sympathize with all working mothers out there.  So if anyone knows of a venture philanthropy position with great flexibility, please pass it along!

Then Thanksgiving came.  For the past 17 years I have spent Thanksgiving in Baltimore with Mr. No Nom’s family, which means that I usually don’t have to cook much and there are more people around to entertain the kids.  But traveling with two kids during the busiest travel time of the year is still exhausting, plus the airline lost one of our car seats.  Oy.

Of course, everyone knows that Thanksgiving is just the beginning of the holiday crazies.   I am only writing this post now because the rice and birthday candle menorah has been lighted (Mr. No Nom is half Jewish), all the holiday cards sent, the gifts wrapped or at least ordered, the outside lights are on, and the Christmas tree is properly trimmed.  Hopefully, Mrs. Next Doors and I will finally have some time to sit down and plan out the Christmas Eve feast.

PS. As I write this post, my heart hurts for the families in CT.  Like many parents, I cannot even begin to put into words how much this hurts and how very close to home it strikes.  I hug my children closer, grateful for our time together in this beautiful, bewildering, and sometimes heartbreaking world.  Happy holidays everyone.