Abu, my grandma

My Grandmother, 1915-2008

My grandmother was the daughter of a Chinese Imperial Scholar. She was born in 1915, four years after China declared itself an independent republic. From an early age, she would sit alongside her brothers and sisters, copying from scrolls that her father had written, so that she could learn fine penmanship. It was uncommon at that time for both genders to be educated in such a manner. This was good practice, and helped her to read and write. One time, someone who did not know her remarked about one of her letters that her penmanship was so fine he thought a man had written it.

She gave birth my mother in the midst of World War II, while the Japanese were invading the country. They would eventually flee to Taiwan with a second daughter and have a third daughter and a son. During this time, China and Taiwan would go through a lot of turmoil, and it wasn’t an easy life.

My mom was the first to come to America for graduate studies. On the night my sister was born, my grandmother came to this country. She would live at the houses of her children, until coming to live with my family permanently after I was born.

I spent my formative years with her learning and singing songs in Mandarin, watching her meditate and exercise, playing card games, or knitting me sweaters. She was bedridden for a period of time, but always had a stocked desk from which she would feed me Reese’s peanut butter cups, slices of Velveeta, bananas dipped in hot water (as she couldn’t tolerate anything cold), peanut butter with extra sticky congee, and a cocoa noodle concoction. We called her Abu (Shanghainese in origin), because when my sister was younger she couldn’t say wei-po properly. She called me Bao-bao, which means”precious treasure” in Chinese.

She was more like a mother to me than a grandmother, at times. While doting on me, she was very involved in my rearing. But she would always sit at the window and watch as I waited for the school bus or watching for me when I got back. I was her favorite grandchild, and I loved her.

There are many things that can be said about my grandmother. She was a distinguished, giving, and highly intelligent woman. She had a presence and an unmistakable sense of self, to the point of seeming almost regal. Whenever I think of the life she is lived, I am amazed at everything she went through and everything that she was able to become. I am blessed to have had someone who cared for me so much and made me who I am.

Review: Mio

I hate to say that this is a review. But I guess it is a blogger’s review of Mio. Mio over the last eight months has had a crazy history, which I alluded to in my Weekly Feed. Three different chefs, one of them quite young and inexperienced, is not an easy time. I’ve had meals when two of them, Ryan Wheeler and owner Miguel Iguina, were in the kitchen. I won’t mention previous transgressions now that Stephano Frigerio and Nick Fragelli from Maestro are having fun in the kitchen. I visited the fifth week of their venture and had the duo of lamb sirloin and leg of lamb. It was rather beefy tasting, and very juicy. The leg of lamb had a great seared crust on it that was delicious. Unfortunately, my boss had fried catfish that he mentioned as “the worst he’d ever had” and “Mrs. Paul’s would have been better.” But we were taken out so he couldn’t say anything about it.

Luckily another visit turned out better and more consistent. We started off with an amuse – which was likely a result of my dining companion who knows the owner. They were great little cornets with a chived, but neutral cheese with a salty dollop on top that reminded me of caviar. The cornet on the outside was sweet. This amuse reminded me a lot of the salmon tartare amuse at The French Laundry. Separately the salty dollop was excessively strong, but as one bite with the cheese and cornet it was a slightly sweet and mostly salty combination of happiness in the mouth. It was fantastic.

Thanks for nothing REI

I signed up for a rock climbing event in support of fighting ovarian cancer. They gave every participant a nice little package with a water bottle, carabiner key chain, and a 15% off REI gear coupon. My friend F. went down to the kickoff in Virginia and received a Sigg bottle, which is made of aluminum with a water-based epoxy finish on the inside. They’re super nice bottles. Me, on the otherhand, went to pick up my packet from the REI in Rockville. And when I opened my bag I had received a Lexan water bottle. Lexan contains bisphenol A, which has been linked with hormone disruption – which can lead to breast and reproductive cancers as well as affect any child a woman might be carrying. And it does some other things to men. So it’s a bit of an ironic product to be handing out to participants in a charity to fight ovarian cancer. In addition, Lexan is not recyclable. So thanks REI for giving me a bottle that might give me cancer, mess up any potential babies, and harm the environment.

Public transportation

Any WMATA rider is very familiar with this internal dialogue.

Friday night my friend and I were trying to catch a bus fro my place to Adams Morgan. A guy with about five shopping bags and a ton of Popeye’s got on the bus. He also had a hook for a hand. It was raining that night so the bus driver let him on without paying, but yelled at him saying it was the last time he was letting him on without paying. (Maybe this is why WMATA is losing money?) The guy was muttering to himself during the ride as it seems some folks are wont to do.

A few stops later a man with a rather dilapidated wheelchair got on and refused to strap himself in. The poor driver told the guy that if he fell out of the chair, the driver would be doing paper work all night. The man in the chair refused, so the driver got off the bus and called central to report it so he wouldn’t get in trouble. By this point we had waited about 10 minutes at the stop. So my friend and I decided it was time to get off and transfer to an L2. Nothing against these guys on the bus, but man… good ol’ WMATA.