Frozen In Time

Do the contents of one's freezer reveal one's personality?

If you were to poke through my upright freezer right now.10:16pm EST., you'd find:

1 box of frozen prawns (often misapplied in the United States to denote larger-sized shrimps..when in actuality the two are superficially similar, with the prawn having branching gill structures; AND shrimp being the more widely used term in the US...too much info? I wrote prawn because the box in my freezer states that it holds 12 giant "prawns" in it)

3 lbs of large shrimps (each in one pound portions-much easier to deal with so keep that thought in mind when buying and storing)

1 rack of spare ribs (a gift from a recent visit by my mother; for which I will use soon with some chicken bones to make a noodle soup broth)

4 large sealed plastic bins each containing a 10 inch toy soldier made out of marzipan...rifles and all (My sister M threw a huge 50th birthday bash for her boyfriend last summer. The beautiful soldiers stood guard at each corner of the Sylvia Weinstock cake and were not served; they were too beautiful to leave behind so I asked the waiters to put them in boxes for me to cart home to freeze. "What are you going to do with them?" my husband asked me that evening as we loaded them up in the rear of our mini-van. We'll do something..reuse them or whatever on some other cake that i'll make, i said...i checked on one of them recently and he still looks perfect. My second son has a birthday coming up..maybe i will have the heart to use one)

2 packages of fresh rice noodles (until recent years, we were only able to get dry rice noodles. Not that they weren't good, but the fresh ones have a slightly chewier consistency and is a real treat! I save these for special pots of PHO, a traditional vietnamese beef broth noodle soup that is a favorite of mine since i was a child)

2 packs of beef bones (i buy these when they are priced well and freeze them til the need arises for my PHO stock. I don't, however, freeze any beef meats. I feel the flavor is totally gone from them once frozen)

1 package of lemongrass (minced and ready to use. I would add the lemongrass to some curries, sometimes certain soups, and in the summer, NEM NUONG, which means grilled cured ground meat. Lemongrass, garlic, sugar, fish sauce and onions are added in proportions to ground pork. They are then shaped into patties and cooked over the grill. You can have them on a roll or just plain; or served over cold rice noodles called BUN and topped with mint, shredded lettuce, basil, cucumber and a special spicy sweet NUOC MAM -fish sauce with vinegar, lime juice and chilies-YUM!!!)

2 Pullets (oh my Gosh...if you have never tried them before..you don't know what you have been missing. A pullet is a young chicken, more specifically a hen at least 20-weeks-old which has begun to lay eggs but has not yet moulted-which means they haven't yet fully shedded their old feathers..which i have no absolute idea what this has to do with anything aside from the fact that they are very young. Pullets are more productive than the older laying hens; they often produce eggs for an entire year, while hens will lay for six-to-seven months...this is all in research you know.i didn't know any of this. I just started to enjoy these chicken so much and wondered if it was because they were totally free-ranged when in fact it was a different specimen altogether. Anyway, pullets have much more flavors and produce a beautiful clear yellow broth compared to say a Perdue chicken whose broth is murky and more brown. If you don't know the difference, it is fine. Anyway, my freezer once held like 10 of them. My mother took me on a food shopping binge right after I had my baby girl last year and bought us tons of pullets. "Make chicken rice porridge everyday. It is good for your post-partum health!" Yes, mom...I will...and I did)

3 Pheasants ( our friend went pheasant hunting recently in South Dakota and brought three home for us. During season, hunters are allowed three per day; he was there four days and I guess came home with 12 of them; last year he brought us goose and duck. "The heads are still on them because of hunting regulation, do you mind?" he asked me. Nope..I'm going to make a very rich stock with the heads for a gravy. He knew I was a frontierswoman at heart...or a very out there Asian chick. Thank you DS, I am waiting for a cold sunday- with a roaring fire in our woodstove, and the kids sprawled all across the floor drawing, I will make a beautiful brandied-wild mushroom-shallot sauce to top the pheasant meat which I will sear ever so slightly on a hot cast-iron pan, and we will enjoy it with a nice bottle of William Selyem Pinot Noir. A meal like that has to be planned out and executed in the best of manners..after all, it was a very special catch by our dear friend)

12 boxes of NATTO- ( Natto is japanese fermented soy-bean and is often eaten at breakfast to accompany hot cooked rice. It is full of protein and unimaginable health benefits. The first thing noticed by the uninitiated after opening a pack of natto is the very strong smell, akin to strong cheese. It is also very sticky; stirring the natto produces lots of spiderweb-like strings- which my kids love- The natto itself has a somewhat nutty, savory, somewhat salty flavor that belies its odor. After marriage to my husband, it took me quite a couple of years to enjoy and eventually crave natto. Basically, it is not food for the finicky, but it is possibly one of the most perfect foods in the world. From building your immune system, isoflavones x million, soothing upset stomachs and poor intestines, to helping metabolic activities - i can't say enough! Usually i'll buy like a dozen boxes when i go to the japanese grocers-they are shipped frozen from Japan- and keep them in our freezer . Our family of five will eat 4 boxes per meal time as an accompaniment to some grilled fish or whatever i happen to be cooking up. Sometimes, when time is limited and dinner has to be made in a rush, our kids will just eat a big dollop of natto and soy sauce over hot rice; they love it and its gotta be better than pizza! I recently discovered Kendall's Farm in Massachusetts. They make small batches of organic natto and will ship a minimum order of 36 8oz containers of natto. I have heard that they might not even be taking new customers for a while, but I will call them tomorrow and find out..can't wait!)

4 large bags of iced (leftovers from a previous party..)

My upright freezer in the garage stores all the foods that I need but can't possibly acquire here in Westport; the contents collected over recent trips to NYC's Chinatown or Flushing, New York, Daido supermarket in White Plains,NY..or Fujimart in Greenwich, Ct..the woods up in South Dakota, or just a transfer from my mother's freezer in NYC to ours'

I don't know what the contents of my freezer may reveal about me, but akin to life and love, food is about that one true thing; that one fantastic, necessary ingredient that will comprise a beautiful meal that will serve as the foundation for a memory, a moment to linger on~~ What is in yours?

Common Bond

I spent practically the whole day with my sisters, M and V. To see their faces here in Westport is always a delight to my system; a boost to my metabolism. Although they both reside only an hour away in NYC, it is pretty difficult to align their spare time (since M is busy building her empire and V is studying for the LSAT to get into Law school to get a Law degree but doesn't plan to practice!)


I told them in a joint email this evening that today's get -together forged a stronger bond between us; it was a day of laughter, hope, expectation, and of course...way tooo much food!

Upon receiving my email, V called to say that she loves me...and M emailed back to say,

"Absolutely! The Love and food will never end!!!!"

Where would I be without my siblings? Who tells me I'm beautiful even when I am probably carrying around 20 more pounds than I should, who roll their eyes when I tell them that I've done a bad deed, who understand me better than any other being and share the same eccentric bloodline???? Who have totally inspired me to yearn for my three children...

In 2003, My husband and I tried to have our third child when my second son was about two years-old. I became pregnant soon after trying only to suffer a miscarriage 11 weeks into the pregnancy. It was devastating. You never think that it could happen to you. I thought I was fine- the miscarriage was for the better; it saved us from making life-changing decisions had the pregnancy been able to continue developing and we find out that the baby was not healthy.

I was wrong to put on a brave face. Of course, I mourned our loss. We all did. I still thought I was OK~thank God for my two healthy boys! But I was not alright..I had a huge self-combustion about a week later. I became totally irrational. I screamed at my husband, I screamed at myself. I didn't want to forget what had happened; I didn't want to put it behind me and move on. After that explosion-that huge release-after time, I slowly began to heal.

Five months after the miscarriage, I became pregnant again and soon into it suffered the same dull, burning back-ache. ----! I have been so worried and so afraid of these feelings. I have been constantly fearing another miscarriage. I never once not peered into the toilet bowl after urinating checking for signs of blood. I didn't let the paranoia get in the way of my happiness that time, however, the anxiety was there.

Then came the worst fear. The spotting. No, it couldn't be! Like a child who constantly looks under the bed at night for monsters, the spotting that I discovered, after weeks of hoping not to ever see it, jumped up and pulled me down into the toilet. I knew it was over. I called the doctor and she tried to reassure me that spotting is not a sign of miscarriage...blahblahblah...deep down inside, I knew. I just had to wait for the following morning's ultrasound to confirm it.

10:40AM Tuesday, April 13, 2004. I undressed and climbed onto the same lab chair and waited for the ultrasonic technician to confirm the baby's fate. After some prodding with her wand, she gave me a look that was reserved for moments like these, and told me what I had already feared. I didn't have any tears at that time. My second son was in his stroller looking at me. I felt as if I was fine. Devastated again, but fine. I met with my doctor afterwards. She gave me the same speech...blahblahblah...Sadly, according to miscarriage statistics, it's not a big deal. It only becomes a worry after a third miscarriage. Some 25% of pregancies end in a miscarriage before the twelfth week. OK..now I was officially a part of those numbers; I am two out of four!

The next day I went back to the hospital again for the official resolution of the pregnancy. At that moment it was to soon to say, but I was fine. I am strong. I had to be. That was not the final say. As soon as my body was ready, I knew that my husband and I would try again to have out third child. Just like the last time, the clarity and importance of having a slightly larger family seemed great and meaningful to us. I wanted our children to have wonderful siblings...friends to the end. Just like in my own family. We have always had each other to count on...to argue with; laugh with. Love and sharing. That's what it is...that's all there is. We have always been there for each other; I wanted the same for our children.

We were so very fortunate..the luckiest people in the world...when one year later, on April 19, 2005, our baby girl was delivered safe and sound and healthy and full of hair and just so beautiful. At the moment of her birth (my third and final C-section) I was overcome with an overwhelming sense of joy and completeness that I wept hysterically for the longest time. Through the shakes and shivers of the cold and sterile operating room, I felt that my life was only going to get better from that day forward. AND THAT IS ALL THERE IS.......

The Sun Will Come Out~

In an email that I just sent off to my friend Catherine, I told her that my day was almost done. It is 1:12am as I post this entry~ the boys' bikes have been put to rest in the garage... baseball mitts, helmets, and balls in their respective bins... dinner dishes washed; pots scrubbed, table cleared... A final look in the refrigerator to figure out what will be made for breakfast; what lunch will the boys bring to school, and what bones are available in the freezer for a big pot of soup tomorrow. Do I take a shower now or in the morning is the next dilemma. Overall, the end to yet another wonderful day. Wonderful because my three kids are peacefully asleep in their beds; my husband on the bottom bunk with our second son-he fell asleep as the New York Mets were leading the St. Louis Cardinals 2-0 in the bottom of the third inning of the NLCS (update::::the Mets won 4-2 forcing a game seven tomorrow at Shea Stadium with the winner heading to Detroit for Game 1 of the World Series on Saturday) Oops!!!! School pictures are scheduled for tomorrow as well, I must still go get the boys' outfits and press them. I think I'll set the alarm for 5:30 and take my shower in the morning.

Be Patient!

To a parent, there is no greater pain than watching your child suffer; whether it is a physical injury, sickness, or mental torment.

I realized this when I went into labor for the first time. Nothing prepared me for the pain I was going through; Lamaze was a waste of time and money. My mother came to the hospital that evening; I was in my 17th hour of labor and contractions. My body twisted in convulsions as I rocked myself silly on the rocking chair. Would there be relief if I kept staring up into the ceiling? Every so often I would catch the strangest look on my mother's face. She was pale and her eyes seemed full of trepidation. She tried to reach out for me and soothed me with "I know exactly what you are going through" but I couldn't hear her. After another hour of me biting my lips and refusing epidural (thanks again Lamaze!) I had to ask my mother to leave the room because I couldn't bear it for her to see me that way. It was suddenly in those moments that I became a child again. There I was...about to give birth, and I felt as though I were five years old. I whispered in a voice hardly audible, "MA!!!!!!!" Mommy! It was also at that instant that I became certain that there was no other single being on the face of this earth that could possibly know what I was going through, or could possibly love me any more than my mother did. My mom heeded our request and went home to wait there for further news.

Finally, I came to my senses and accepted the pain-numbing injection around eight o'clock at night. The nurse and my husband helped me to the bed and I was able to nap for about an hour..at which time my husband ran out to the corner and came back with two soups. I remember clearly: chicken noodle and Manhattan clam chowder. We shared sips of soup and waited for our first child to be born.

More time went by without progress and around 11:00pm I conceded to a caesarean section; I hadn't dilated beyond three centimeters in the 20 something hours.
But soon enough, at 1:48 AM on March 18, 1998, our son was born. When I saw his face for the first time, I knew,too, then that I will be feeling all of his pains for the rest of my life.

Eight years and three c-sectioned-children later, not to mention nine stitches, six staples and a dozen or so very close calls, life has just been very rewarding despite living on the edge of the NEXT time someone gets hurt.

On Father's day of this year, our second son fell while running around on the lawn after Sunday mass. We were standing around having coffee and he came to us in tears and said that his arm hurt. He couldn't lift it when I asked him to and by the time we got home, it had swell to double its size with the elbow jutting out. My immediate thought was that he had dislocated it. X-rays in the emergency room showed just a fracture, not a bone break. He was put in a splint and sent to the orthopaedics.

A fracture doesn't necessarily mean that it is better than a break in the bone. Not in our case, at least. Our son suffered a fracture of the LATERAL CONDYLE ~which is the round bump on a bone where it forms a joint with another bone. Medical journals cited that this happens in 17% of all pediatric elbow fractures and pretty common in the summer months to kids between the ages of 5-10.

Our son was in a cast for eight weeks and warned not to get off his feet. He was to be kept calmed and away from any physical activities (try telling this to a an active four year-old with an older brother) There was to be no swimming, bicycling, or running. Basically, we were supposed to turn him into a TV-watching vegetable.

As worried and anxious as I was for him, I was also so very proud of how he handled himself (he has now been voted the best little patient at Coastal Orthopaedics) We saw the doctor once a week for x-rays and monitoring. Although our son was very scared and in a lot of pain... I only saw glimpses of it - Why did this have to happen to me he would ask; or - what will make my bone stronger?

The latest x-ray yesterday showed he has improved tremendously (whew..our son dodged the bullet; he was supposed to have surgery to place pins through his bones, and bone grafting from his pelvic area on September 12th but his bone suddenly started to grow new bones and surgery was called off) Dr. Markey said that he could be declared safe next month. THANK GOD!!!!! I knew HE wouldn't allow so much grief for one of HIS children who happened to take a fall outside HIS church.

I am a strong believer in things happening for a reason...even when they are unpleasant. I say to myself that maybe this will relieve our son of further injuries in his future; that it was fine it happened when it did. Still, I jump up in the middle of the night at the slightest sound of his whimpering or teeth grinding(which I think started when he fractured his elbow) It is natural that I feel this way. I am a mother and for the rest of my life I am conditioned to give my children all that I have and all that is me for THEY are my greatest accomplishment!

There are not enough hours in a day. Make the most of yours!

Corn Nuts And Special Delivery

It has been approximately 12 days since my last entry (please be patient with me) and about 29 years since I discovered corn nuts.

Corn nuts are a variation of parched corn. Indians and pioneers ate parched corn almost as a staple while traveling. It was nutritious and took up little space so was considered excellent trail food.

I recently thought of corn nuts because I bought a container of nut mix (called spanish cocktail)at our local gourmet food shop. For $7.00 a pound, you got a variety of dried fava beans, chick peas,spanish peanuts, laguerda almonds,pistachios, and of course, the corn nuts. Very, very fancy considering the fact that originally, the corn variety that is used can pretty much only be found at feed stores and costs next to nothing.

Parched corn was made by Indians by putting dried corn on hot rocks or in hot coals. You can make parched corn by simply covering the bottom of a greaseless frying pan with corn and stirring until the kernels are uniformly brown.

Corn nuts are a little more refined. If you were interested in making your own corn nuts, use one cup of whole corn, bought from any feed or health food store; soak the kernels in two cups of water for three days and keep refrigerated. Then you would dry the kernels on a paper towel, and deep fry them in hot oil, lard, or bacon grease. The kernels will float to the top when done and look slightly caramel brown in color. Take them out and VOILA` You may season them with salt, pepper, chili powder..etc.

My mother came home when I was about 11 years old with a bag of corn nuts. She had spotted them in one of the markets and thought they looked interesting. We all took a handful and decided in unison that they were really yummy. From then on, we would pick up a bag every so often (although I must admit that I never knew they were deep fried til I decided to write about them in this entry)YIKES!!!! I shall have to save the spanish cocktails for special get-togethers.

Aside from recently spotting them in the spanish cocktail mix, I haven't seen any corn nuts sold in stores in the chips aisle or nuts section. This frustrated me because I had suggested their use at Catherine's party this summer, but we were not able to locate any. Since then, I've read that they are most likely sold in more ethnic neighborhoods (well,that explains why I couldn't find any in Westport) or at gas stations. Maybe corn nuts are considered too processed and best kept away from the general public (hmmm...)

This also brings me back to another bundle that my mom came home with in 1978 which totally changed all of our lives. My mother had three children by caesarean section. Back in the day, not to mention that it was third world Viet Nam..and even though my parents afforded the best doctors around...it was probably still not up to par. But anyhow, her c-sections were vertical cuts extending from the lower abdomen all the way up; a good eight or nine inches, maybe more-it is hard to tell with time and fading scar tissues. So after my brother was born in 1971, the doctors recommended that she should have her tubes tied and she obliged; my mother thought that was the end of her baby days.

Imagine the surprise when three years after we settled in this country that was still so new to us, my mother missed a couple of menstrual cycles and found out that she was pregnant. Never mind how we all felt (and I must admit I was kind of embarassed by it for a long time)but how were we going to find a doctor and start all over again? We managed somehow and on December 14, 1978 my little baby sister was born at the New York Infirmary Hospital (now known as New York Downtown Hospital - the only hospital in lower Manhattan)and became the very first US citizen in the family. Her Vietnamese name is Hong - An, which means the grace of God..because naturally, it must have been His will that she came to us when she did (I shall have many more entries about my siblings...i promise!)

She was followed by my father's citizenship in 1983 and myself in 1986. Did you know that every resident after the age of 18 may apply for their US citizenship? I counted the days until my 18th birthday. What would it all mean? How much freedom will I gain? In MY family - zilch!!! The first thing I did though was sent out my application for US citizenship and was called in for interview the following March. By the time April came around, I received words that I was to be sworn in at a special ceremony marking the Centennial celebration of the Statue of Liberty on July 5th on Ellis Island. I was blown away; couldn't believe it. What luck! Mikhail Baryshnikov was also sworn in on that very day a couple of rows in front of me. ON the base of the statue the following words are inscribed: All Those Still Yearning to Breathe Free.

I was freed! AND MY LIFE WAS NEVER EVER THE SAME AFTER THAT DAY!!!!!!!!