In my childhood house of a thousand siblings, there was only one day more exciting than Christmas.
On my birthday, I got to sit at the head of the breakfast table and preside over a plate of powdered doughnuts with candles. Powdered doughnuts might not seem very exciting compared to the Krispy Kremes and Voodoo doughnut delicacies of today, but back then they were a huge treat. Especially to a kid in a big family on a budget. Continue reading West Versus East: The Birthday Edition (#219)
When we get new neighbors, I usually take them a plate of baked goods. If they’re lucky, the newbies moved in between October and December, which my husband dubbed “Baking Season.” Baking Season starts with cream cheese sugar cookies shaped like fall leaves and moves onto maple cream pie, apple pie, maple sugar rugelach, and candy cane meringues.
The new neighbors usually bring back an empty plate and sexist mouthful of compliments. “You’re a fantastic cook! Your husband is so lucky!”
My neighborhood has an annual Labor Day cooking contest. The hostess decides on the type of food, the neighbors cook up their best dishes, and everyone at the party votes for their favorite. The year we moved in, the competition was for the best homemade salsa.
I’m competitive as hell, but I’m not a good cook. Luckily, my husband is an excellent cook, and he makes an amazing homemade salsa.
My Chinese-American husband grew up in Hawaii, then moved to Los Angeles. Not only did he not care about different seasons, I’m not even sure he knew what they were until I took him to New Hampshire and Washington D.C.
His immigrant family wasn’t big on holidays, either, whether American or Chinese. The man didn’t even have a Christmas stocking until I gave him one. Continue reading Over the Moon (#147)
When I started working as an assistant for the Empress of International Film and Television Sales, it was a temp job, to make ends meet while I tried to make it as a screenwriter. But the Empress was soon addicted to my organizational skills. I was soon addicted to my paycheck and health insurance.
I worked long hours. In at 7-8 AM to deal with Europe, out at 7-8 PM after dealing with Asia. Right before film markets, the hours were even longer. At film markets and festivals, you were on duty 24-7. There were perks, though. Tables at the best restaurants had to be booked months in advance, with a deposit. If my boss got invited elsewhere, guess who got the pre-paid table? Me, and three friends. Sometimes it was me and some random people I’d literally just met. Continue reading Cakes & Bellwethers (#138)
Do you remember all the lovely food at your wedding? The cuisine that you carefully selected in advance? The hors d’oeuvres of bacon-wrapped scallops, chicken satay, or asparagus goat cheese brioche? Can you recall the taste of the prime rib, or the mushroom ravioli?
I love cake. Okay, I love all baked goods, but cake is the best. It was my favorite part of all my parents’ weddings. It’s STILL my favorite part of every wedding. I do enjoy the dancing now that I bring my own partner, but while I’m dancing with Andy, I’m totally eyeing that four-tiered, fabulous, elaborate, fondant-covered wedding cake in the corner. Continue reading A Question of Cake (#49)