It's garnished with toasted seaweed, carrot flowers, green onions, and red chili threads.
It is so damn good and no one knows how to make it except for her.
I'm finally home from Hawaii and am going grocery shopping in a few minutes. I can't wait to get back into the swing of cooking for my family! This week's meal plan soon to come!
Remotes, a wine bottle drip catcher, a candle, and a photo of my stepdad. On a silver tray. Make sense? No? How about this:
A baseball instruction manual and a notepad with instructions for the handyman. In the living room.
Continue reading "Honolulu Summer 2009: Part II [Random shit on trays at my mom's house]" »
Wallie with her beloved smoked salmon plate.
On Christmas Eve eve the girls and I hit up the local mall with my mom and brother to do some last minute shopping and along the way, we decided to stop and have lunch. My brother wanted to continue shopping and said he'd meet us for dessert so my mom and I headed into the restaurant with Bunny and Wallie and promised to save him a spot.
Naturally, the narrow restaurant was crowded with shoppers and the many outside tables—normally packed—were empty due to inclement weather. When I asked for a table for five, the grandmotherly hostess (aka Strega Nona, who I think was also the owner) tutted and asked where the fifth member of our party was. I could tell this wasn't going to go well.
"He's shopping," I explained. "But he'll meet us later for dessert."
I was prepared for one of those "we can't seat you until your party is all here" spiels, but instead she huffed and said something even more frustrating, "You are going to order food...right?"
It was the "dot-dot-dot, right" that killed me.
I blinked.
Twice.
Why would she ask that question? Sometimes I think (and this is something that is probably common with mixed race folk though we don't readily admit it), "Is it because I'm not white? Is that why you think I won't order something?" I don't want to go there, but I've been learned to be disappointed by presumptuous people. And she looked presumptuous. It wouldn't be the first time someone assumed something incorrect about me based on my appearance.
I wanted to scream, "I'm half-Italian! Aren't you Italian, too?" But instead I said."Yes, we're here for lunch." We were standing in the crowded entry and people were pushing past us bumping their shopping bags into ours and all I could think was, "I'm getting out of here." But at that moment she sighed and said, "Hold on, let me prepare a table." And so we waited.
My lucky mom with the next President and First Lady of the United States. Read about her experience meeting the Obamas here.
"Get the Zip-Locs," directed Tata.
"But the house brand is cheaper," I attempted to explain. "They are two for $4.00. You can get two of these for the price of one box of Zip-Locs."
"Just give me the Zip-Locs." She didn't want to hear it.
Going grocery shopping with my mother is an experience. Everything is a convenience item. Everything is a name brand. Is it a generational thing?
Happy 39th Birthday, Mom! I can't believe you had me when you were only 1-year-old! Amazing!
The girls picked this present for you for your new home away from home! We will give it to you when we see you next month!
Have a very happy day! We love you!
I've been spending this week with my mom who is in town visiting for Wallie's third birthday. When I decided to quit my job, I wasn't thinking about this week, but I woke up on Monday morning and realized that I didn't have to do anything except enjoy the time with my mom. Words cannot even describe how good that feels. Stress levels are way waaaay down. My new address? Cloud nine. Even though I spent a month in Hawaii recently, I didn't enjoy my time as much as I am loving these past 4 days with her.
So far we've spent the week shopping and taking the girls out to lunch. Yesterday my mom, sister, and I spent an hour at the Neiman-Marcus make up counter and came home loaded down with freebies in addition to our lotions and potions and lipsticks:
Just like La Tammy Faye, I love make up.
The girls have been having scones for breakfast, gelato after lunch, and dessert after dinner because you don't eff with Tata (aka Auntie Mame). The kids on trying (trying!) to be on their best behavior so they don't disappoint their grandma.
We've torn up this valley from one end to the other. I chauffeur while Tata hops out to check out boutiques here and there. She's visited both girls' schools. We've gone to parks. My house is spotless (she even cleaned my dryer lint trap), the fridge is stocked, beds are made in the morning, and the laundry is folded. Something yummy is on the stove at all times. Yes, I have the best mom in the whole world, and she spoils us rotten just when we need it most.
And you know Tata is here when this sentence comes out of your three-year-old's mouth:
Tata, first I want you to put on my fake nails, then I want to eat my cherry pie.
Tata, thanks for being the best memory-maker ever!
Why, yes, that is a black kitty cat on a pink french manicured fake nail.
One of the sweetest traditions here in Hawaii is the culture of bestowing gifts and lavishing attention on children.
When we see my mom's friends, invariably they show up with little tote bags full of treats for Bunny and Wallie: Sanrio trinkets, barrettes, dress-up dresses and shoes, coupons to Jamba Juice (thanks Auntie Erin!), coloring books and toothbrushes...I'm going to need an extra suitcase just to bring home all their loot.
I love this tradition. I'm overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness every time an auntie shows up with a bag with Hello Kitty plastered on the side. It makes me wonder why my generation doesn't do these things, especially those of us who live outside of Hawaii. Even if one of my mom's friends doesn't know me or my kids that well, they always say, "Your mom told me you were coming...here's a little something for the kids..."
I started feeling like a horrible person thinking about all the times I could have gone ever-so-slightly out of my way to get a little present for a friend or about all the times I saw something and thought of a friend but didn't buy it. My excuses are always that I have my kids with me or I don't have time to stop because I have to pick someone up from school or I'm running late because I had to change a diaper and buckle shoes. And I know a note or call will do (also so sososo bad at that), but everyone loves unexpected presents, right?
Then it occurred to me that these women have grown children and don't have to pull their kids off of the bed displays or out of rounders or remove lip gloss testers from their hot little fists like I did today at Macy's. These aunties may be busy, but they don't have two-year-olds. That's when I felt better about myself and realized that there's plenty of time left to spoil my friends' children's children. In the meantime, friends, know that I think of you whenever I see the vintage dishtowels or historical fiction mysteries or bouquets of tulips or the chocolate-dipped macaroons that I know you love.
Photo of my mom's friends (aka "the aunties") the moment when they first see Bunny and Wallie on our first day in Hawaii. (Notice they are not looking at me.) It's all about the kids. Now that's love.
My mom (privacy protected) emails me today telling me she's going to lunch with the famous person above (among others). Then, three hours later, this photo hits my in box.
Who did my mom have lunch with?
First person to guess correctly wins one of the books I've recently been sent for review. (Too many to list here, we can discuss via email.)
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