bday things

Momofuku Ssam Bar spread from Goldbelly:

pork shoulder

brown sugar glaze

kimchi

potato rolls

korean red pepper sauce

ginger scallion sauce

pictured but not included:

congee from Ann's recipe

cilantro

scallion

romaine

mint

thai basil

chili crunch from TJ's

fried onions from TJ's

included but not pictured:

jasmine rice

fried rice seasoning sauce

Adulthood has generally made me less cagey about my birthday (I didn't say not cagey at all). But as any holiday goes for me, the purpose is to eat food in the company of humans I like. So I suppose this is a good excuse to acknowledge e m e r g e n c e day.

Alicia continues to spoil me on levels I struggle to match with this Momofuku delivery even on a year when we can't share meals together as easily. It's okay, I enjoyed enough of it for the both of us.

Today also marks a year since SF went into a two week lockdown. The internet has produced memes more clever than I can convey here, but what a year it has been.

I remember the exact day with clarity because... well it was a day of slow chaos in the office, starting with a lot of uncertainty and frustration as half the office just switched to wfh and the other half was trying to understand the changing work schedule. Almost every manager peaced before the city officially announced lockdown when the rest of us scrambled to just go home. But I also remember the exact day with clarity because it's the start of my season of landmines - Mom's birthday. I don't really keep track of how old she would be today, but I did the math for completion of this post and she would've been 57 today.

It's funny how we keep track of time, and it's interesting to feel the shifts in my own mind of categorizing major milestones in my life. I used to count by how many years I've made it without her. At some point, I started counting by how many years before I lap her. She was 36.

An age that used to feel so far away, so unfathomable, so... old... now seems so painfully... young.

I have friends who are 36 (or older) now. 

I mourn the loss of a potential friend where I used to mourn the loss of my parent. I am old enough now to ask about who she was as a person instead of just dwelling in the void she's left as my caretaker and emotional crutch. Old enough to feel a piece of my identity will always remain missing.

She lives mostly in my imagination. Because her family didn't maintain contact with me for reasons I am not clear, I ask questions I fear I'll never get the answers to. So in some ways, I find myself starting to create a relationship that suits me. I regret not having the foresight as a lost nine year old *sarcasm* to ask more questions before my dad slowly filed away his memories too, but here we are. Today, all he can tell me is that she loved Peking duck and made amazing dumplings. I love these little tidbits for selfish reasons because I love Peking duck and [would like to think I] make amazing dumplings. Now even if I don't know what tastes she relished or flavors she craved, I'm just going to pretend like I know best because that's the best thing I inherited from her.

I made this fruit cake a couple months ago just because. It's an airy Italian sponge cake with the thinnest layer of lightly sweetened whipped cream to separate the mountain of fruit salad on top. I think most of my Asian American peers would intuitively understand it is the perfect birthday cake for our mothers.

Not too sweet. With lots of cut up fruits.

Grief really doesn't ever go away huh. It just changes a little at a time before you can notice what is happening.