Changes ahead

Change is a funny thing.  As a consultant, part of my job is to change the way people do their job by bringing in this newer (and hopefully better) software.  They tend to despise these change and are usually quite reluctant to learn the new software and new ways of doing their every day jobs.  Our job is to help facilitate the change, so you'd think that being a proponent of change, I'd be more open to change myself.  Yet, it seems that's not always quite how it works.

Even the changes that I am proud of making, looking back, I realize I may have also been slow and reluctant to make the change, just like our clients.  Ten years ago, I couldn't have imagined caring where or how my food was grown.  Eating seasonally and locally wasn't even a blip on my radar.  Heck, I would have been happy eating cheesecake 24/7 (and with a high schooler's metabolism, could probably have gotten away with it).  Fast forward to today and these things influence not only my grocery shopping habits, but also my restaurant choices.  It was a slow, gradual process, but ultimately, I'm happy with where I am now in this regard.

Today, I made, a change that I hope will bring about a happier, healthier me.  I'll be off the road (for the most part) and able to live and work in the City, something I have missed out on for the past four years.  The past has provided me opportunities to eat at some amazing restaurants while limiting the amount I could cook at home, so this blog has mainly (unintentionally) revolved around fine dining experiences.  With this change, I hope to be able to cook healthy, seasonal meals most days...which should also re-focus this blog on the same.

And while some things change, other things don't.  Today marks the 7th year since my brother's death.  I miss him just as much today, if not more, than I did then.  It's funny because often times the happiest moments bring about the saddest feelings when I realize he isn't here to share in the excitement.  Perhaps a big bowl of pho is in order...I miss you lil' bro.

To the point...

This one will be short and sweet - food postings to resume shortly :)

23 years ago, he was born and I got the best baby brother in the world. Of course, I always liked to say that you were sent from heaven because they wanted it quiet up there. It must have been too quiet for them.

7 years ago, they tried to bring America to its knees. Instead, America came together and showed the rest of the world what it means to be an American.

Quietly on that day, he mentioned to me that he'd never be able to celebrate his birthday properly out of respect for those who lost their lives on this day. Not a selfish comment, just more of an observation.

6 years ago and every year since, I'm remembering those words of his. Today, I think of those who suffered and their families. But for me, I'll be just a little bit selfish and mostly, I'll remember you and wish you a very Happy Birthday.

Happy Birthday, little bro. <3

6 years.

Disclaimer: My favoritest blogs are ones that I feel like I have a friend on the other side of the Internet in addition to all of their pretty food pictures, stories and recipes. These are the ones that keep me coming back time and time again as I wonder how people are doing, even though I've clearly never met or spoken to most. While I do still prefer to keep this blog semi-anonymous for practical reasons and I have occassionally written a non-food post, I was recently inspired by a recent posting from one of my favorite bloggers to share something a little more than food adventures. If you are here just for the food, please forgive my intrusion and skip today's post. I'll have a recipe for you shortly :) Otherwise, I'd like to share a very important part of my life in the words forthcoming and part of my motivation for cooking.

It's September. It's the start of fall (proof offered by the arrival of pumpkin loaf and lattes in Starbucks today) and the beginning of the gorgeous months in San Francisco. For many, it's the start of school. And for me, while I clearly not starting a new school year, it marks a very important day of the year.

Six years ago on the first day of the new school year, my brother was killed in a car accident. I remember that day like it was yesterday, but it's been a long, empty six years without my best friend. I miss him like none other.

By no means do I want to use this to recount all of the memories of my brother; there are entirely too many and I think I already have plans to share some of the best in a later post. Sure, there are the fights over who got the bigger or better < insert childhood toy or food here > and finger pointing to say "I didn't do it; he/she did!" But what childhood would be complete without those? I remember always thinking I couldn't imagine having a best friend as part of the family. I felt pretty darn lucky.

The summer between my freshman year and sophomore year of college was our last summer together. At the time, my family had relocated to a different part of the country from where I grew up, so I knew few people. That summer was devoted to knocking a couple of courses out at the local college, spending time with my brother, and my first forays into cooking.

He was a fantastic swimmer, a true delight to watch, and when he wasn't eating, sleeping, or geeking out, he was in the pool that summer. While he's no Michael Phelps and certainly didn't consume 12,000 calories a day, he WAS a growing boy and those numerous swim practices a day certainly worked up an appetite. His willingness to eat just about anything put before him and his trademark smile and appreciation when it was something new and delicious motivated me to experiment in the kitchen and really learn how to cook. It diminished the feeling of failure when something doesn't turn out that great that I still had someone willing to fork down the food; it must not have been that bad after all! I can't imagine how different things would be without that jump start into cooking.

One of the last memories I have of my brother was a meal, just the two of us, of Pho. He even paid. So today, I had pho for lunch and the smell brought a small smile to my face when I reminisce about our last dinner. Perhaps, I'll one day learn to make my own pho in his memory.

Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus

On the way out of Longwood Gardens this Christmas Eve where we were dazzled by the meticulous light display, I remarked to my mom, "That's the most Christmas we've had in years."


And indeed it was. Since the accident, we've been celebrating Christmas in a more simplistic way. Before the accident, I remember Christmas being the big fancy dinner in the formal dining room (only outdone by Thanksgiving dinner each year), opening up one gift before heading off to the 11:00pm candlelight service. I always hoped that by going to the late service, we'd return late enough that the sleepiness would overtake any anticipation of presents the next morning. Before, Christmas encompassed stringing up lights, breaking out the countdown calendar and trying to guess which token ornament would be in the calendar box, picking out a tree (and picking up the fallen pine needles scattered around the house afterwards), rediscovering favorite ornaments and creating drafts and drafts of Christmas lists. Don't get me wrong, though. I think we always understood the true meaning of Christmas and we embraced being around friends and family. These memories don't stand alone; rather, they are little seasonal reminders of how much I love my friends and family.


Which is why, after the accident, the family has avoided having a "normal" Christmas because those seasonal reminders were just too much with one empty chair at the table. We stopped putting up decorations and avoided the candlelight service and Christmas carols because it just left us in tears thinking about how he used to sing at the top of his lungs, yet shyly (yes, that's possible). We tried to go somewhere (Paris one year, Barcelona the next) because breaking the routine helped distract us. But this year, we decided to venture back. And I'm glad.

This year, Mom put tiny little presents as ornaments on a "tree" for me to open on each of the last days leading up to Christmas. Granted, it wasn't a Christmas tree, but it looked festive and Christmasy. This year, we went to church. Not the candlelight service, but there were Christmas carols and they made us smile. This year, we went to Longwood Gardens with the grandparents. Not the same as driving around the neighborhood to look at lights, but hey, this was actually quite cool. This year, we had a baking marathon with seven types of cookies. This year, we tasted a little of the Christmas festivities. Not an entire meal, but enough to leave us warm and fuzzy inside and looking forward to next year.


Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. There is hope. And cookies and lights and Christmas carols, as frivilous as they may seem, can sometimes make all the difference in the world.


And with that, Merry Christmas all!

(You too, up there)


Note: And I'm not entirely sure why I'm writing this on a supposed food blog. Partly because I'm sharing my version of Christmas and this is what the holidays have been for me and the family. Partly because I want to document it (and Blogger doesn't come with a private post option, plus nobody reads this...yet).