Come Back To Me~
Reaching far back in the channels of my mind, the first time I was ever asked what I wanted to be when I grow up took place probably around the age of five. I was in my first year at the Couvent des Oiseaux -Regina Mundi (Convent of the Birds - Queen of the World) in Saigon, a second-to-none private French school for young ladies from K-12.
I had the lead role of the Virgin Mary in one of the pageants that was put on towards the end of my time at the school in 1975, before we fled Saigon. I remember my mother finding the perfect sky blue fabric to sew my dress; some more beautiful gauzy material in the same color for the little veil that went over my head under a crown that was to be made from tiny white flowers. On the day of the pageant, the sun was merciless. As hot and itchy as I was, I remained calmed and patient in my regal gown and played my role proudly. Those memories are very clear and I hold on to them dearly.
Regina Mundi consisted of a few buildings united by a white gravel courtyard. A chapel and various mature plant life and trees dotted its landscape. I wonder what the property looks like now; the school closed the same time my life ended in Viet Nam, classrooms turned into quarters for the communist soldiers and their Generals....weeds overtook every few stones in the once manicured yard where I spent all my recess hours. I have a large scar on both of my knees from a fall during one of those carefree lunches; I was running quite fast aimlessly..chased by another student. I lost my footing and fell hard on the gravel; one of the nuns carried me to the office and cleaned my wounds. My mother, upon hearing the news and seeing my knees at pick-up that afternoon, closed her eyes and shook her head. I was fed a heaping hot bowl of my favorite PHO noodle soup that evening.
Who was it that asked me what I wanted to be? I think it was chu Le (chu is the official term that means uncle, your father's brother. "Cau" is how you would address your mother's brother. Isn't that simple? However, Vietnamese people also use those two terms to politely and formally address an older male friend of the family) In the case of Chu Le, he was not an uncle but rather, a very dear friend of my parents and I adored him. I am positive that I looked him in the eye and said that I wanted to open an ice cream store...testing different flavors every hour to make sure it was as yummy as possible.
Ice cream was cold and sweet and also a very expensive treat in Viet Nam. Our more popular sweets are usually made from sweetened beans, glutinous rice in many forms, coconut milk and preserved fruits. Ice cream requires dairy cream and we Vietnamese have very little cattle stock. Water buffaloes are the more common types - bred for their high drought tolerance, disease resistance and rapid rate of growth...they yield very low milk.
I was fortunate to be able to have ice cream once a week (although, now, I don't know if that was necessarily a good thing having all that milk fat in my body...sometimes the luxuries that you are allowed aren't great in the end! Hmmm..a lesson to be learned)The peach flambe desserts that I used to end all of my La Cave meals with always had a generous mound of richly-churned vanilla ice cream underneath the ripe fruit.
I supposed my mother knew better than to let me have ice cream everyday like I wanted..instead, I was offered amazing freshly made plain sour yogurt with drizzles of honey or brown sugar. The love for that taste stayed with me throughout my life. Freshly made yogurt is filled with countless numbers of beneficial bacteria, helps with digestion and kills harmful viruses. Various French Patissieres in Saigon made yogurt in small batches every morning. The yogurt then was poured to ferment in glass jars and laid in the display cases next to the croissants and the beignets. Fresh yogurt is always eaten at room temperature. That is where the difference comes in between store bought yogurt, which has been through the pasteurization process and leaves very little or no live bacteria, and fresh yogurt which contains live active cultures.
My mother couldn't have possibly known at the time, but by allowing me the wonderful yogurt treats, she was putting healthy live bacterias back into my body which was-living in a third world country-totally overdosed on antibiotics; depleted of lactic flora. I have a straight yellowish line that goes across the section of my teeth along the gum line from being given too much antibiotics as a child. I am sure the yogurt has helped me tremendously to rebuild a proper immune system.
Can you imagine to my surprise when in 1976, on the upper west side of Manhattan..displaced thousands of miles from Saigon...walking home from school, I spied a sign that glowed DANNON FROZEN YOGURT? What was that? Frozen yogurt? The goodness of ice cream but yogurt? Yes...yes it was.. A soft-served scoop of the frozen yogurt confirmed that it was yogurt..only frozen! From that day on it became an addiction for my brother, sister and me. Time went by and suddenly, frozen yogurt was no longer sour...frozen yogurt became soft-served ice cream with less fat. What was going on here?
The understanding that came to me was that the general American public wasn't ready for real sour frozen yogurt...that somehow, it didn't sit well..so the original frozen yogurt caved in and added lots of sugar sometime in the early 80s; quick researching confirmed my suspicion. Real sour frozen yogurt was nowhere to be found. Once in a blue moon, a rare health food store or restaurant stood their grounds and served the wonderful yogurt, but it was not common. Not until now, that is...sour frozen yogurt is showing a resurgence and making its comeback big time!!!!
Months ago, on one of our treks into New York City from Westport, a little tidy cute storefront caught my eye as my husband weaved our minivan across town. Minty green walls and bright modern light fixtures; little tables and clear acrylic chairs.. simple minty green lettering with a swirly strawberry-like graphic spelled out Pinkberry across its glass facade and doors...What was it? There was also a line to the street. I had thought it was some sort of hip new cafe but the name came up while I was with some friends rediscovering what for them was a new find. That commodity was real sour frozen yogurt and we three gals ordered up three large ones at a Lord & Taylor's cafe in Stamford, Connecticut. We vowed then and there that Pinkberry would be our next destination.
I can't wait to try Pinkberry's real frozen yogurt which is the only kind of its sort that uses real fermented milk. Sour, tangy and creamy...if only I knew back then what I know now, I would have said I want to grow up and open a Pinkberry franchise store in Westport, Connecticut when chu Le asked me that question!
A simple quest for a childhood love can awaken many senses. The power of taste evokes more than a longing, it satiates the mind and the soul...life is wonderful again!
I had the lead role of the Virgin Mary in one of the pageants that was put on towards the end of my time at the school in 1975, before we fled Saigon. I remember my mother finding the perfect sky blue fabric to sew my dress; some more beautiful gauzy material in the same color for the little veil that went over my head under a crown that was to be made from tiny white flowers. On the day of the pageant, the sun was merciless. As hot and itchy as I was, I remained calmed and patient in my regal gown and played my role proudly. Those memories are very clear and I hold on to them dearly.
Regina Mundi consisted of a few buildings united by a white gravel courtyard. A chapel and various mature plant life and trees dotted its landscape. I wonder what the property looks like now; the school closed the same time my life ended in Viet Nam, classrooms turned into quarters for the communist soldiers and their Generals....weeds overtook every few stones in the once manicured yard where I spent all my recess hours. I have a large scar on both of my knees from a fall during one of those carefree lunches; I was running quite fast aimlessly..chased by another student. I lost my footing and fell hard on the gravel; one of the nuns carried me to the office and cleaned my wounds. My mother, upon hearing the news and seeing my knees at pick-up that afternoon, closed her eyes and shook her head. I was fed a heaping hot bowl of my favorite PHO noodle soup that evening.
Who was it that asked me what I wanted to be? I think it was chu Le (chu is the official term that means uncle, your father's brother. "Cau" is how you would address your mother's brother. Isn't that simple? However, Vietnamese people also use those two terms to politely and formally address an older male friend of the family) In the case of Chu Le, he was not an uncle but rather, a very dear friend of my parents and I adored him. I am positive that I looked him in the eye and said that I wanted to open an ice cream store...testing different flavors every hour to make sure it was as yummy as possible.
Ice cream was cold and sweet and also a very expensive treat in Viet Nam. Our more popular sweets are usually made from sweetened beans, glutinous rice in many forms, coconut milk and preserved fruits. Ice cream requires dairy cream and we Vietnamese have very little cattle stock. Water buffaloes are the more common types - bred for their high drought tolerance, disease resistance and rapid rate of growth...they yield very low milk.
I was fortunate to be able to have ice cream once a week (although, now, I don't know if that was necessarily a good thing having all that milk fat in my body...sometimes the luxuries that you are allowed aren't great in the end! Hmmm..a lesson to be learned)The peach flambe desserts that I used to end all of my La Cave meals with always had a generous mound of richly-churned vanilla ice cream underneath the ripe fruit.
I supposed my mother knew better than to let me have ice cream everyday like I wanted..instead, I was offered amazing freshly made plain sour yogurt with drizzles of honey or brown sugar. The love for that taste stayed with me throughout my life. Freshly made yogurt is filled with countless numbers of beneficial bacteria, helps with digestion and kills harmful viruses. Various French Patissieres in Saigon made yogurt in small batches every morning. The yogurt then was poured to ferment in glass jars and laid in the display cases next to the croissants and the beignets. Fresh yogurt is always eaten at room temperature. That is where the difference comes in between store bought yogurt, which has been through the pasteurization process and leaves very little or no live bacteria, and fresh yogurt which contains live active cultures.
My mother couldn't have possibly known at the time, but by allowing me the wonderful yogurt treats, she was putting healthy live bacterias back into my body which was-living in a third world country-totally overdosed on antibiotics; depleted of lactic flora. I have a straight yellowish line that goes across the section of my teeth along the gum line from being given too much antibiotics as a child. I am sure the yogurt has helped me tremendously to rebuild a proper immune system.
Can you imagine to my surprise when in 1976, on the upper west side of Manhattan..displaced thousands of miles from Saigon...walking home from school, I spied a sign that glowed DANNON FROZEN YOGURT? What was that? Frozen yogurt? The goodness of ice cream but yogurt? Yes...yes it was.. A soft-served scoop of the frozen yogurt confirmed that it was yogurt..only frozen! From that day on it became an addiction for my brother, sister and me. Time went by and suddenly, frozen yogurt was no longer sour...frozen yogurt became soft-served ice cream with less fat. What was going on here?
The understanding that came to me was that the general American public wasn't ready for real sour frozen yogurt...that somehow, it didn't sit well..so the original frozen yogurt caved in and added lots of sugar sometime in the early 80s; quick researching confirmed my suspicion. Real sour frozen yogurt was nowhere to be found. Once in a blue moon, a rare health food store or restaurant stood their grounds and served the wonderful yogurt, but it was not common. Not until now, that is...sour frozen yogurt is showing a resurgence and making its comeback big time!!!!
Months ago, on one of our treks into New York City from Westport, a little tidy cute storefront caught my eye as my husband weaved our minivan across town. Minty green walls and bright modern light fixtures; little tables and clear acrylic chairs.. simple minty green lettering with a swirly strawberry-like graphic spelled out Pinkberry across its glass facade and doors...What was it? There was also a line to the street. I had thought it was some sort of hip new cafe but the name came up while I was with some friends rediscovering what for them was a new find. That commodity was real sour frozen yogurt and we three gals ordered up three large ones at a Lord & Taylor's cafe in Stamford, Connecticut. We vowed then and there that Pinkberry would be our next destination.
I can't wait to try Pinkberry's real frozen yogurt which is the only kind of its sort that uses real fermented milk. Sour, tangy and creamy...if only I knew back then what I know now, I would have said I want to grow up and open a Pinkberry franchise store in Westport, Connecticut when chu Le asked me that question!
A simple quest for a childhood love can awaken many senses. The power of taste evokes more than a longing, it satiates the mind and the soul...life is wonderful again!
posted by cream cheese dreams at 8:29 PM
2 Comments:
Ooh - I can hardly wait to try Pinkberry.
Welcome back to blogging! You were missed.
Majorknitter, you are the best! If only I can blog everyday like you do. Please keep inspiring me and do try Pinkberry when in NYC next!!!!
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