Even the air is different here | Sonoma

Posted on December 9, 2012 by Pauline

I found myself in Sonoma wine country again. Literally and figuratively, I suppose.

November was a month to celebrate — a turning point for the past few months of personal loss, burn-out, and transitions at work. With my grandma’s passing in September, it was the start towards finding peace and acceptance for my tumultuous relationship with my family. It led me to feel a sense of clarity about how I wanted to approach my life. Not from a place of control, but a place of love and purpose. This November was also the ninth year anniversary for when J and I first started dating — an occasion that I appreciate even more so with him now as my husband. I lost a lot this year, but I also gained more of myself in return. I was beginning to see the light at the end of this gray, foggy tunnel of a year.

The sunny skies in Sonoma helped a great deal. One weekend in November, J and I drove out to immerse ourselves in Sonoma’s backdrop of endless green and red vines, visit grand wineries atop winding hills such as Gundlach Bundschu, stroll the charming town square with vintage shops, and eat delicious seasonal fare of The Fremont Diner‘s juicy, fried chicken and waffles and The Girl and the Fig‘s arugula salad and mussels in a white wine sauce. The easy, nonchalant vibe of Sonoma made the enormity of my recent insights feel distant, yet clearer. As if I was on an airplane looking below at the maze of urban gridlines, and the picture made sense from above.

We spent that weekend exploring and playing. As much as I enjoy traveling and visiting new places, I sometimes forget how to act spontaneously when I arrive. For this trip, I had a few places researched, but I wanted to see where the day would take us.

We watched chickens poke their way past the gate into The Fremont Diner‘s outdoor area. The chickens boldly stepped around the feet of patrons, who gnawed on fried chicken legs. I set up my portable tripod on a rusty pick-up truck to snap shots of us in front of the Sonoma vines and fields scenery. We wandered throughout the surreal Cornerstone Gardens, speculating about the landscape art pieces. At an interactive Wish Tree installation, J and I each cut a strip of metallic ribbon to write our wish and drape onto the tree. He watched as I sampled various red wines. He occasionally took a sip from the dessert pours, and had me drink water when I drank one too many free tastings. At night, we curled up in robes by the fireplace and talked about how great it would be to get away like this every other month. The Sonoma’s Lodge Renaissance Hotel was the perfect setting to host our peaceful hideaway.

At certain moments throughout the day, J would pause to deeply inhale the fresh, crisp air. “Even the air is different here,” he remarked. I breathed in. It was. And from where we stood beneath the clear night, even the stars shone brighter.

Posted in Travel, Writings | Tagged Sonoma | Leave a comment

To be a brave writer

Posted on August 12, 2012 by Pauline

I’m beginning to understand why life and art imitate one another.

I never saw the connection between my life and my writing until this year. How easily my writing is affected by my mood, my changing perspectives, and my relationships.

Before this year, my writing was rigid. Safe. Status quo. In Julia Cameron’s book The Right to Write, she talks about how we are taught early on to write sentences like marching soldiers and to stifle creativity and exploration with our words. And so that’s what I did in my writing. I wrote publication-friendly articles for magazines (recently published for the July food issue of M Magazine), I wrote fun blog entries sticking to the ubiquitous “food & travel” genre, and lighthearted Yelp food reviews. I wrote everything, except what I truly wanted to write about — what was actually very hard and from a deep, dark, and vulnerable place. What was real and true was also very risky and scary.

When I was twenty-two years old, fresh out of undergraduate school in Davis, I was faced with a game-changing decision. I was accepted into two graduate teaching programs.

One was at UC Davis, where I had just graduated from and where I was familiar with the school system, city, and faculty. I loved my experience working in Davis – the high-school outreach programs, classroom instructors, and school districts were wonderful. My Davis experience is what inspired me to pursue teaching in secondary education. The second program was at UCLA. The program was rigorous, and I would teach in a Los Angeles inner-city classroom. And J, my boyfriend at that time, was in Los Angeles.

Nearly every rational part of my brain told me to forget UCLA. Yes, it was UCLA. But it also meant leaving behind Davis, the Bay Area, and being close to family and friends. It meant moving down six hours away from everything I knew to pursue a no-holds-barred program that would throw me into a tough, low-performing school in a crime-ridden area. It meant testing the guts out of whether I honestly thought I could teach and make a difference in the classroom. It meant saving a shaky, drama-filled, long-distance relationship with J to see if we could still make it work. It meant starting over and knowing nobody in a large, glittery city that swallowed you whole.

I was scared.

And yet, I chose UCLA. I followed my heart, which told me to challenge myself professionally and to pursue a relationship with someone I loved wholeheartedly. I listened even though it didn’t make sense in my head, and it wasn’t the safe choice. I listened to this even though the possibility of failure and heartbreak were very real and true.

A lot of what I feared did eventually happen. I was placed into extremely tough schools. I saw classmates drop out of the program, their shining eyes with inspiration and passion eventually fading at the stark, blunt reality of our flawed public education system. I felt completely out of my league in a crammed classroom of forty students who challenged me in every emotional way possible, and among my more extreme classmates & professors who riled on endlessly about creating inclusive curriculum and achieving social justice in the school system. I was just trying to stay afloat. And even though J and I were in the same city, we barely saw each other because we were consumed with our graduate programs. And we still fought.

There were plenty of dark and trying moments during my two years in Los Angeles when I lay wide awake and wondered why I ever left the Bay Area. How I wished I never moved to Los Angeles. I wanted to give up and leave several times; it was just too damn hard.

Just when I thought I was done, things started to pick up slowly. At the end of my first year, I decided to study abroad in Paris. It was my first time out of the country and alone. And it was life-changing. By the end of my last year, I finally admitted to myself that I no longer wanted to teach high school English. I was wracked with guilt, disappointment, and anger at myself. But, there it was. I finished with a teaching credential and a Masters in Education, and I just didn’t want to do it anymore. Eventually, I would find myself meeting the right groups of people who would lead me down the path of pursuing Higher Education. J and I, as much as we fought and tested our relationship, realized that we loved each other despite the hard times and were both deeply committed. Two years after I graduated from UCLA, he and I would both be back in the Bay Area and be engaged.

Taking risks in my life, like this situation and others that I encountered, have always turned out more valuable and rewarding beyond belief. If I stay where I am safe, it might feel good, but I can’t grow as a person. And if I stay a safe writer, the sort who writes predictably, purely to publish, please an audience, or to value eloquence over authenticity, then I’m not growing as a writer. Because a brave writer is someone who can write freely, truthfully, and passionately. The writing can be painful, it can be risky, and it can also be healing. To be a brave writer is to write even in the face of rejection and failure because none of that matters as much as the act of taking that risk. Because getting published is not nearly as important as telling your truth, which in and of itself is more rewarding and powerful than any byline or praise.

Brave writing is very much like brave living, even if it doesn’t make sense, and even if it is scary. The power is to do it anyway.

Posted in Inspiration, Writings | 2 Comments

Shadows Along the Sand | Maui

Posted on July 3, 2012 by Pauline

Three years ago when J & I visited Hawai’i, he proposed to me in front of Manoa Falls in Oahu. Returning to Hawai’i and visiting Maui for the first time, it was both nostalgic and a marvel at how much changed for our relationship. We were different people – in love with a touch of experienced wisdom instead of youthful naivety. In Oahu, I was giddy with optimism and envisioned a perfect wedding and life. In Maui, we realized that our happiness was something to appreciate and savor.

Since our wedding and honeymoon last summer in Spain, our lives only continued to accelerate. The first year of marriage included major job changes (for both of us), a tragedy affecting our close friends, continued family tension and stress on my end, and many sleepless nights of uncertainty. The aftermath felt harder to absorb than the actual drama of the wedding planning itself. All through the year, I wrestled with several large, looming questions.

Who are the people I need to have in my life? Who are the ones who keep my life positive? How do I allow myself to live more spontaneously? How do I learn to start trusting my instincts and what my heart tells me? How do I live for happiness and not necessarily for success? How do I let go of the “shoulds” and focus more on the “whys?” How do I accept not knowing the answers and not being afraid of the next step…wherever it leads me?

As any traveler can attest, there’s no better place to ponder life’s biggest questions than to step outside of your daily life. We chose Maui. Something about being surrounded by vast, endless ocean and standing on an island makes me and my troubles feel finite and far away. Less intimidating and scary. Maui with its rustic backdrop of sky-scraper mountains, rolling clouds over valleys, wind turbines, red earth, and countryside unpaved roads and coastlines was the perfect backdrop. Aside from the resorts dotting the shores, the island felt small and life seemed uncomplicated.

J & I also gave ourselves liberty to put our life on pause. A trip also needs space to “not think.” We ziplined through deep valleys, drank countless numbers of lava flow smoothies, slurped Hapa Ramen noodles at Star Noodle restaurant, and lazily lounged poolside and beachside at Ka’anapali Beach – part of our Sheraton Resort overlooking the Black Rock. We strolled through downtown Lahaina, a town by the wharf, and marveled at the outstretched, old twisted roots of the Banyan Tree.

We attended the sunset Feast at Lele lu’au, where the waiter informed me that I looked like one of our dancers Kayana. J confirmed that Kayana did resemble me, although I mentally added that Kayana was my incredibly more fit and buff Hawaiian doppelg채nger. While we weren’t impressed with the lu’au dinner fare, we thoroughly enjoyed the show, which led us from dances, cultural attire, and cuisine throughout the Polynesian Islands of Hawai’i, New Zealand, Tahiti, and Samoa (amazing fire-dancing skills).

We dined at one of my favorite Hawaiian chain restaurants Sansei Sushi, with their speciality rolls, crab and truffle ramen, and miso butterfish. Before stopping by Big Beach, we ate fresh fish tacos with mango and pineapple juice that ran down our fingers and the best coconut fried shrimp at Coconuts Cafe. Brunch at The Plantation yielded gorgeous panoramic views of the golf course, beaches, and Lanai island.

My favorite parts of the trip, however, were the quiet ones with J. One evening, we walked from the nearby Whaler’s Village to our hotel along the beach and below the velvety night sky dotted with stars. To our left, we heard the waves crashing, an echo signaling that home existed somewhere far along the mainland. The moon and sporadic tiki stands lit the way and casted our shadows, hand-in-hand, along the sand.

In the morning, we sat outside our hotel balcony and gazed at the view of Ka’anapali Beach and the tiny silhouettes of people diving off Black Rock. He’s turning 30 this year and I had asked him before what he wanted to do before he reached this milestone age. He never really had an answer for me until now.

“I know why I can’t answer your question,” he said. “There’s really nothing that I want to do before 30 because I’m just grateful for everything we already have.” It was true. We worked really hard to arrive at this moment – educated in post-graduate degrees, recently married, home owners, and with new promising careers. At times, it felt like we had it all too planned out, a bit too predictable. That’s where the unanswered questions come in. And the realization settled in that success markers did not equate to instant happiness. There were still plenty of other unresolved circumstances in our lives -finances, family, and staying healthy. But what life, even a happy one, doesn’t have imperfections? Isn’t that what makes our lives worthwhile and meaningful? We’re still trying to figure that out.

“I think we can really use this time to just relax about it all and enjoy the fruits of our labor,” he said, squeezing my hand.

My thoughts exactly.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Sheraton Maui Resort and Spa: 2605 Kaanapali Parkway, Lahaina, HI 96761
Big Beach: Makena Beach State Park, Maui
Whaler’s Village: 2435 Ka’anapali Pkwy, Bldg H-6, Lahaina, Maui, HI 96761
EcoSky Adventures: 2580 Keka’a Drive Lahaina, HI 96761
Star Noodle: 286 Kupuohi St Lahaina, HI 96761
Sansei: 600 Office Rd Lahaina, HI 96761
Feast at Lele: 505 Front Street, Lahaina, HI 96761
The Plantation: 2000 Plantation Club Dr. Kapalua, HI 96761
Coconut’s Fish Cafe: 1279 South Kihei Road #304 Kihei, HI 96753

Posted in Travel, Writings | Tagged Maui, relation | Leave a comment

Foie Gras, SAAM, Macaroons and Fancy Fun | Los Angeles

Posted on June 1, 2012 by Pauline

Indulgent would be the right word to describe my weekend in Los Angeles. A group of girlfriends stayed there for a long weekend to celebrate my friend Nancy’s bachelorette, which is the perfect excuse for fine dining and eating, dressing up in heels, and splurging on spa and shopping. I had missed LA and found that it was still functioning as I left it five years ago –the fancy restaurants that required reservations, the themed lounges with tall and beautiful people, Little Tokyo and its colorful and cultural mural, and the predictable traffic to get nearly anywhere. The city is the exclusive playground where indulgence and gluttony are encouraged. Sinful, yet irresistible.

I am the first to arrive into Los Angeles. That Thursday, I planned to connect with my friend Han (and former Los Angeles roommate) and stay with her until I met up with the rest of the bachelorette party on Friday afternoon. For dinner, we luckily grab a table at the popular and crowded restaurant Animal. Due to the Foie Gras ban taking place in California July 1st, food enthusiasts are milking every opportunity to savor their final foie gras moments. At the Animal, we get two of those moments: seared, silken foie gras over a biscuit coated with maple, bacon gravy and smoked foie gras mousse served with sauteed, crispy veal tongue. To balance out the meal, we order a round of fried soft-shell crab and a salad of broccoli and a deep-fried poached egg. Yes, it was fried on the outside and perfectly poached in the center. As I used the foie gras mousse as a spread on my baguette, my stomach sighs with guilty pleasure.

My friend and I continue our conversation over to the The Edison lounge in downtown Los Angeles. There is a fun, speakeasy vibe and plenty of hidden, dark corners lit only by the large Edison lightbulbs dangling overhead. A live jazz band plays 1920s-esque music with the lead singer shimmying on stage in a long, backless white dress and later in the evening a fringe, swing-worthy number. I sip on My Mistress cocktail and note in awe how fit the live burlesque dancers are as they twist and kick in rhythm to the music.

The rest of the weekend feels like a delicious blur of eating and other fun instances.

Bottega Louie, the popular bakery and restaurant, opened in 2007 so it was my first time encountering their famed macaroons and baked treats. I started my day with a hearty cup of French Onion soup, a flaky ham and cheese croissant, and a salted caramel eclair. This is Los Angeles’s version of a healthy breakfast, of course. Given the fact that I had also devoured a beignet with raspberry jam filling, I could not bring myself to eat even one small macaroon. My friend insisted on buying me a box of five for me to take along.

The SLS Hotel, which is only a couple of blocks from the Beverly Center Shopping Mall, is one sexy, chic hotel. The inside lighting is dim, white and black chandeliers hang alongside glass deer heads with antlers. The lobby also houses a horse statue lamp and a smaller pig carrying fresh apples on its back. My friend and I each take one. The maze of hallways smell like floral scented lotion. I am lucky enough to stay in the suite with the bride-to-be. The bathroom is covered in a dark, sliding glass door, the furniture is a spotless leather white, and the beds are covered in a heavy, down comforter. At Ciel, the hotel day spa, everything is glowing white –the ceiling, the drapes, the furniture, and even the hand statues along the wall holding white flowers. Eerily peaceful. I pick fun, tropical colors for my manicure and pedicure: mint green for my hands and coral pink for my toes.

Walking past the colorful and noisy crowds at The Bazaar, we are taken to a quiet and dim room –SAAM The Chef’s Tasting Room.

Jose Andres, the chef of SAAM’s testing menu, concocted a 20 course meal filled with molecular gastronomic delights and surprises. Some of the items, such as the oyster and jamon on a spoon, are bite-sized palate cleansers. Most of the meal fluctuates between light, Asian-inspired dishes such as the scallops with carrot “paint” and Spanish themed items like the patatas bravas shaped as a french fry on top of a paper bag (street food) and Iberico ham (jamon) rolled up with fish egg. Although I have dined Alinea in Chicago, this was my second prix-fixe experience at a restaurant specializing in molecular gastronomy. I know not every dish can be a home run, but I love the surprise element of what’s in store and appreciate that every component and order of its arrival was carefully thought out –like the tracks on an album.

The memorable ones for me were: Kaviar Kir Royale, cassis currant shaped as caviar eggs that floated a top the champagne; the Philly cheesesteak, a thin slice of kobe beef a top a crispy, cracker pasty oozing with Vermont cheese; Uni and Eel Risotto, a rich pasta thickened with creamy uni; Cotton Candy Foie Gras, vanilla spun sugar that coats the thick cube of foie gras in the center; Dragon’s Breath, popcorn doused in liquid nitrogen; the Not Your Everyday Caprese with light-as-air mozzarella balls; and dessert with incredibly sweet Japanese peaches and Frozen Apricot with an Amaretto filling. Three hours and 20 courses later, six stuffed and dressed-up young ladies let go of any desire to party and promptly went straight to bed in a food stupor.

For the next morning, brunch at SLS is no joke.

Even though I’m sure we were still digesting SAAM’s dinner, we still couldn’t help picking at the beautiful buffet spread. Juicy prime-rib, caviar and trout roe, agua frescas of watermelon and honeydew in fruit-filled glasses, gazpacho, cheese and charcuterie, and a dessert display.

My favorite dessert: a silky flan nestled inside an egg.

On Saturday night, we stood in front of the VIP line at the exclusive Greystone Manor club. I was unsuccessfully trying to ask for some guy named “Heartwell” to an unsmiling bouncer. Even though I’d rehearsed what my cousin told me to say, someone well-versed and connected in the club scene, I was not the smoothest operator at name-dropping. It turned out that my contact was able to make a connection via text, and after plenty of girly flirting while standing in line, we were able to make it inside. It wouldn’t truly be a hot LA club if we didn’t have to work to get inside, I suppose. Once we made our way into the spacious lounge, we were met with burlesque dancers onstage and swinging from the ceiling, cold fog enveloping the crowds, colorful laser-like lights slicing the air, and spontaneous confetti throughout the night. We waved around styrofoam glow sticks and danced until 2am.

Our last stop before LAX airport was Porto’s Bakery in Burbank. After eating all weekend based on pure gluttonous cravings, I had forgotten the feeling of hunger. Inside Porto’s is a mad-house of two theme park-sized lines: one for the bakery and one for the savory food. Although, I could reference the menu and order from any of the lines. I could only think of two things that I wanted from Porto’s –the guava cheese pastry and their popular potato balls. Seeing other people and friends order boxes filled with potato balls and other sweet treats to bring home, I grew greedy and did the same. 6 potato balls, 8 guava and cheese pastries, 1 pork tamale, 1 chorizo empanada, and a blended Dulce de Leche Latte. Go big before going home.

Back home in the Bay Area, I spend the next several days reminiscing over Los Angeles through the form of edible souvenirs. I had a flaky and creamy guava cheese pastry for breakfast each morning and a pre-dinner fried, creamy potato ball with its delicious minced meat. I sampled 1 or 2 macaroons from Bottega Louie every night. Sinking my teeth into each flavored soft macaroon of Earl Gray, raspberry (my favorite), salted caramel, vanilla bean, and strawberry gave me sugary chills. When the last stash of my LA food is gone, I silently mourn the end of my indulgent ways. At least, until my next vacation.

Posted in Food, Travel | Tagged hotel, Los Angeles, restaurant | Leave a comment

April | Week 16 + 17

Posted on May 17, 2012 by Pauline

During this time, I found pockets of inspirational moments that gently led me back to my creativity — writing and cooking in the kitchen. The insightful webinar on Comics and Composition led by G.B. Tran, graphic artist for Vietnamerica. Shopping at my local downtown Farmer’s Market. Chopping up roma tomatoes for a fresh spaghetti sauce. Creating a new dish using sauteed green apples and shallots –honey-glazed pork chops with apples. Getting locked out of my condo for an hour and spending that time propped on a red beach chair in my garage with my J.Crew Style Guide as my companion. Checked out a friend’s event for Fashion Art Music Exhibit (FAME). Attending a Vietnamese-American artists and authors symposium at Stanford and ending the afternoon with Fraiche yogurt. And back to the beginning –the written word.

Week 16 | April 16 – 22