In the days of yore, or at least in the ’50s…or at least in the ’50s as depicted by S.E. Hinton, people congregated in parking lots late at night to settle disputes. You remember — the Greasers and the Socs fought, rumbled and bopped their way to social superiority. Or at least some bruises and broken bones. (And…death? It’s been awhile since I read that book.)

Today, parking lots seem to be reserved for groups of people to collectively watch their waistlines expand. That’s right. We’re talking about the food truck rally. Begin salivating now.

Despite the fact that I’ve been living in Orange County for 5 1/2 years now, I had no idea there existed a weekly food truck rally just a scant 7 miles away from my house. And I have the temerity to call myself a foodie. Well, thanks to my girl Tiffany, I have seen the light. That is, the humming neon light that illuminates the counter of each mobile meal purveyor.

The Burnt Truck, Dos Chinos, Lime, Tapa Boy and a few other gourmet food trucks drew crowds consisting mostly of young Asians to the Boomers/bowling alley parking lot. Had I the patience to save my stomach for the event, I would have tried them all, but with a bowl of pasta and half a chocolate shake already safely put away, I had no appetite whatsoever. Only one thing could move me to reconsider my noshing embargo.

The Fresh Fries truck. I mean…how can I…sorry. Give me a second to regain my composure.

Fries. My downfall. As long as they’re on the plate, I don’t care what sandwich, burger or other entree stands opposite. In 10th grade, I gave up fries for Lent. Of course, that’s beside the point. How were the fries?

Well, I made the mistake of nostalgically ordering the “626 fries,” probably the worst thing that’s ever happened to the innocent, golden, salty sticks of goodness. The 626 fries were covered with mayonnaise, hoisin sauce, and crunchy “chow mein” noodles. What was I thinking? I don’t even like hoisin sauce. And thus, the basket was a very pungent disappointment. Not to be discouraged, I tried my friend’s sweet potato fries with curry dipping sauce, and they were perfectly lovely.

I’m not going to fault the Fresh Fries truck for the 626 fries. Let’s face it, they’ll probably cater my wedding. In fact, I know that if I ever got into heaven, this truck would take me there. Next time I’ll be sure to order with my taste buds — not the fondness for my hometown — in mind.

Maybe if you...squint a little.

What do you do when you feel like you’ve become a lightning rod for life’s first-world inconveniences (e.g. expensive car repairs, debit card fraud, and soul-crushing, insomnia-causing heartache)? Well, I don’t know how you deal, but one way I find solace is popping in the old ear buds and listening to my favorite podcasts.

Topping my list:
The Ricky Gervais Show
This American Life
RadioLab
And you guessed it:

WTF with Marc Maron.

To kick off spring break, my friend and I braved the traffic to watch a live WTF show at the cozy Steve Allen theatre awesomely located in the Center for Inquiry in Hollywood.

Because my friend isn’t struck by the same crippling timidity that I am, she kindly introduced us to the man in question, who was nervously snacking on bland popcorn and pacing the venue. Of course, afterwards, I thought of saying something cool like,”See? Asians do like listening to you!” Instead, I flashed the default smile and let out a shrill “Hi!” At least I think I did. I temporarily blacked out.

Nevertheless, the show was amazing, Marc was charmingly acerbic and neurotic, and his interactions with all the guests (Ari Shaffir, Pete Holmes, Craig Robsinson, and Eddie Pepitone) had me forget about all of life’s woes.

Although the audience was a random mix of bespectacled hipsters, buttoned-down seniors, comedy nerds, actual nerds and everything in between, I could tell by the way we slapped our knees and guffawed at Pete Holmes yelling “DADDY!” at an annoyed Mr. Maron, we were all in it together. These were my people.

Please, ignore the pasty ankle swath.

I have no qualms about cleaning out my closet. Whenever I feel particularly productive, which inexplicably, often coincides with looming paper deadlines, I hunker down and sort through the novelty T-shirts, faded jeans and items whose elastic has transformed into some kind of crackly, limp mess.

My lack of remorse has a lot to do with the fact that my mom puts these clothes out to pasture. That is, she packs them up in Balikbayan boxes and sends them to her relatives in the Philippes. From there, the fate of my veteran wardrobe lies in their hands.

There are a few things I haven’t been able to part with, though. Jeans I swear I’ll be able to fit into again, pea coats that will never go out of style, and, you guessed it, my two pairs of Doc Martens that have been in my custody since middle school.

Let’s be honest, though. I probably wore each pair a total of five times.

Why?
1. They’re sort of uncomfortable.
2. I’m a lifelong flip-flop enthusiast. My feet want to be free!
3. The only circumstances that cause me to spend more than 5 seconds putting on footwear entail ice rinks and … well, that’s it.

So what convinced me to unearth them from the closet in my parents’ house after 15 years?

A combination of cold weather, the increasing popularity of what I call Depression-era shoes (the hyper-popular but slightly more refined leather boots I see all the cool kids on campus wear), the cold and wet weather of late, and most importantly, the fact that I’m an adult.

My fast-approaching 28th birthday has convinced me that flip-flops are no longer appropriate to top off a rather fetching outfit of dark jeans, nice sweater and leather jacket. Amiright?

In closing — Doc Martens. Retro yet timeless. Gettin’ older.

Let’s do this.

My sister broke my camera (that she gave me, of course) during her three months abroad in Spain and I haven’t procured a new one since…but even those extenuating circumstances don’t excuse the ridiculously long hiatus (read: temporarily abandonment) of this blog.

Tail-between-my-legs apology over. It’s a new day, the adrenaline is pumping (which might be because of my manic Dancing with the Stars YouTube marathon that lasted long past my bed time that I’m 72% embarrassed about), and I’m ready to get this blog back on its feet.

Oh. Yeah.

If the kind of cuisine you ate determined your ethnicity, I’d have been a Chinese child. My dad loves, loves, loves Chinese food, and for this reason alone, my sisters and I learned how to use chopsticks at a very young age. (I still get a little miffed when Chinese or Korean friends of mine exclaim “You know how to use chopsticks?!?”)

(However, if that logic held true, today I’d be a walking, talking potato with a nacho-cheese smile. And ramen hair. And soft tofu thighs. So let’s just be happy that’s not the case.)

My experience cooking Chinese food outside of reheating leftovers is limited, but thanks to Judy Lew, author of Quick and Easy Dim Sum Appetizers and Light Meals (Prime Communication System, 1990), it’s not completely absent.

Take these curry buns, which I made for the first time in high school. The recipe’s fool proof (back then I though adding milk to alfredo sauce powder mix counted as cooking); my friend Vanessa refused to believe I made them myself. I was a little suspicious of the recipe’s authenticity, but according to Best Friend Andy, I’m in the clear. And he knows.

I recently made these for a co-worker’s surprise baby shower (Get it? Bun in the oven?), and all were impressed, and I basked in that impressiveness, and it was good.

One caveat: this recipe requires you to make bread, and this bread you shall make requires yeast. If you’re scared of working with yeast, well, get over it. Baking bread is one of the greatest joys life has to offer. Just ask Hugo Reyes.

Recipe for bun dough (give yourself an hour to prepare this before starting on the filling)
2 Tablespoons dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water
1/2 cup warm milk
1 Tablespoon sugar
1/4 cup melted butter
1/4 sugar
1/2 teaspoon talk
2 large eggs
3 to 3 1/2 C flour

1. In a large bowl, dissolve yeast in warm water and stir in sugar. Let stand 5 minutes.

2. Combine warm milk, melted butter, sugar, salt and eggs. Add to yeast mixture. Beat together.

3. Add 3 cups of flour and mix. [It took a bit more flour to make this a kneadable dough. --ape]

4. Turn dough onto a floured surface and knead until smooth, working in the remaining 1/2 cup flour (approximately 10 minutes).

5. Place dough in a greased bowl, cover and let rise until doubled in size.

6. After dough has doubled in size, punch down dough.

7. Knead 2 minutes and allow to rest 2 minutes before shaping into desired rolls.

Recipe for Curry Pork Buns
Filling
1 Tablespoon oil
1 cup ground pork
2 Chinese sausages, finely chopped
1/2 cup chopped onions
1 Tablespoon curry powder
2 Tablespoons soy sauce
1 Tablespoon ketchup
1 Tablespoon rice wine
1 teaspoon sugar
1 Tablespoon sesame seed oil
1 Tablespoon cornstarch dissolved in 1/4 cup water

1 quantity basic bun dough
16 2″ x 2″ squares of wax paper
2 Tablespoons butter

1. Heat wok and add oil and stir-fry pork until done, remove excess oil. Add sausage and all other ingredients, cook for 1/2 minute.

2. Add cornstarch and water mixture and bring to a full boil. Set aside to cool.

3. Divide dough into 16 equal pieces and fill each with approximately 2 Tablespoons filling Place on a piece of wax paper. [More specifically, flatten the portion of dough into a flat round, then plop a Tablespoon or more of filling and pinch the dough closed over the filling. It takes some speed and dexterity. --ape]

4. Allow to rise until doubled in size. Bake in 375 degree oven until golden brown (approx. 15 minutes).

5. Remove from oven and brush with butter to keep surface soft.

Here’s an example of a Saturday morning conversation I have at least once a month:

Me: Mom!
Mom: Babe! Where are you? Are you coming home this weekend?
Me: Yeah, I’m on the 605. Have you made breakfast yet?
Mom: Not yet. What do you want?
Me: Crunchy meats!

“Crunchy meats” is the American-offspring-who-doesn’t-speak-a-lick-of-tagalog term my sisters and I came up with for chicarron, garlic-salty fried cubes of pork.

Not to be confused with the airy bag of fried pork rinds you buy in secret and eat alone on your couch while watching infomercials for ShamWow!, my mom’s chicharron is one of the tastiest and most comforting “dishes” she makes.

Like all breakfast meats, chicharron is so bad for you, yet soooo good. It’s also very simple to make. All you need is pork for stew (a versatile meat, if you remember my adobo recipe), pepper and garlic salt.

After cutting the stew pork pieces into about 3 or 4 smaller pieces, throw them into a deep pan that has a cover. It must have a cover. A cover is very important. Cover cover cover cover cover cover cover.

Shake a generous amount of garlic salt onto the meat (about a Tablespoon’s worth for a pound of meat), and a modest amount of pepper (a half teaspoon, if that).

Cover and cook over low-medium heat. The reason you must cover is so that the heat/steam inside condenses and creates a salty bath for your meat to cook in. Instead of the garlic salt just seasoning the outside, we want it to penetrate the cubes of pork all the way to their meaty soul.

(You may be asking yourself: Does this recipe really warrant such dramatic language? YES. YES IT DOES.)

And here’s where patience comes into play — why I (used to) call my mom from the freeway. It takes about 30 minutes for the meat to cook fully and tenderize in its salty juices.

After that time has passed, uncover the pan. It’s time to fry the meat until it achieves its eponymous crunchiness.

Turn the heat up just a bit, and periodically turn pieces of meat over so each side forms a red-golden crust. That there’s the money. The salty, crunchy money.

Serve with rice. Enjoy!

Like many children of Asian persuasion, I began taking piano and organ lessons at a very young age–5 or 6 I think. And because I learned scales, beats and pedal work while I learned language, math and all other basic subjects, I absorbed music as naturally and unconsciously as I absorbed social skills and verb tenses.

I played piano and organ for eight years under the tutelage of Vilma, the crazy-haired sparkly-shoed Filipina who, to her credit, was more concerned that we swayed dramatically as we tickled the ivories, than practice perfect theory.

In those eight years, I channeled Mozart, Chopin and the Righteous Brothers (or more accurately, Alex North), and my fingers flew across octaves without a thought.

And like many children, I lost interest, hated practicing and eventually gave up on lessons. Instead of showing Chopin who’s boss, today my stiff hands awkwardly fumble through the simple notes of Coldplay songs. It makes me sad to think that this skill my body held inside for so long is gone, like sand through my fingers.

Thankfully, my fingers found a new love among measuring spoons and cups, nesting bowls, sharp knives and well-used oven mitts. It may be a bit more provincial compared to complex chords, but I’m in love nonetheless.

Like a best friend you can be completely silent with, cooking puts me at ease. My movements are fluid and my mind serene as I listen to the staccato popping of hot oil in a pan or the grainy slide of a blade across a chopping block.

Love, love, love.

And chocolate.

(That was my tie in to the super chocolate cookies below, which are really, really, really yummy, chomocolately and chewy.)

Hershey’s “Perfectly Chocolate” Chocolate Chip Cookies
from Hershey’s Classic Recipes

Ingredients
2 1/4 cups flour
1/3 cup cocoa
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup butter or margarine, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips [I chopped up two dark chocolate truffle bars from Trader Joe's. I HIGHLY recommend it; the chocolate truffle chunks melt in your mouth]
1 cup chopped nutes (optional)

1. Heat oven to 375 degrees F.

2. Stir together flour, cocoa, baking soda and salt. Beat butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar and vanilla in large bowl on medium speed of electric mixer until creamy. Add eggs; beat well. Gradually add flour mixture, beating until well blended. Stir in chocolate chips and nuts, if desired. Drop by rounded teaspoons onto ungreased cookie sheet.

3. Bake 8 to 10 minutes or until set. Cool slightly; remove from cookie sheet to wire rack.

As a friend of mine said, I thought I was immune to the New Year’s resolution epidemic, but I’m not. And because I know you’re curious, here are mine:

No. 1: Lose weight.
No. 2: Floss every day.

The former isn’t the most original, but that doesn’t mean it’s not sorely needed. (And speaking of sore, I’ve been limping for nearly a week after a Sunday hike with my mom. One more week and I’ll start referring to myself as April-modo.)

The latter has more to do with my wallet than my teeth. In a span of two months, I’ll have dropped a grand on these chicklets. That’s $1,000 that could have gone to a Wii for my parents, contacts for my bat eyes, and I don’t know, a vacation perhaps?

Stupid teeth.

Anyway.

Brownies! Glorious brownies made with teeth-rotting, pooch-expanding white flour, white sugar, fancy cocoa and mmm butter. Yeah, they’re good.

Not only are these brownies moist and super fudgy, they’re stopped with probably-not-chocolate-ganache chocolate topping. It’s sexy, complex and lovely.

So, if you’re not like me (i.e., suffering from saddlebagitis), please make these and eat the entire thing and stay away from me so I don’t kill you.

Best Brownies
From Hershey’s Classic Recipes

1/2 cup butter of margarine, melted
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 eggs
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup cocoa
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup chopped nuts (optional)

1. Heat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease 9-inch square baking pan. Stir together butter, sugar and vanilla in large bowl. Add eggs; beat well. Combine flour, cocoa, baking powder and salt; gradually add to butter mixture, beating until well blended. Stir in nuts, if desired. Spread into prepared pan.

2. Bake 20 to 25 minutes or until brownies begin to pull away from sides of pan. Cool; frost with Creamy Brownie Frosting (below).

Creamy Brownie Frosting
3 tablespoons butter or margarine, softened
3 tablespoons cocoa
1 tablespoon light corn syrup or honey
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup powdered sugar
1 to 2 tablespoons milk

1. Beat butter, cocoa, corn syrup and vanilla. Add powdered sugar and milk; beat to spreading consistency.

One might wonder: “What’s better than a Reese’s peanut butter cup?” Another might muse: “How could anyone possibly improve on a chewy peanut butter cookie?”

Lucky for them, I have the answer. Put those two together. Yes, folks, we’re talking about peanut-butter-cup-filled peanut butter cookies. Just take a few moments to revel in the homey decadence.

It’s an easy recipe and always a hit at parties and potlucks and as thrifty gifts. Although there are myriad variations, mine comes from allrecipes.com.

The trickiest part of the recipe is unwrapping 40 Reese’s mini peanut butter cups during the eight minutes it takes for the cookies to bake and them quickly pushing a peanut butter cup into the center of each fresh-from-the-oven cookie.

Something important to keep in mind: If you’re planning on transporting these treats to somewhere other than your mouth straight from the baking sheet, make then at least a day in advance. The chocolate melts when it’s nestled into the cookie and doesn’t harden for several, several hours.

Peanut Butter Cup cookies

BUCHKO, posted on Allrecipes.com

Yield: 40 cookies

Ingredients

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 cup butter, softened

1/2 cup white sugar

1/2 cup peanut butter

1/2 cup packed brown sugar

1 egg, beaten

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 tablespoons milk

40 miniature chocolate covered peanut butter cups, unwrapped

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C).

2. Sift together the flour, salt and baking soda; set aside.

3. Cream together the butter, sugar, peanut butter and brown sugar until fluffy. Beat in the egg, vanilla and milk. Add the flour mixture; mix well.

4. Shape into 40 balls and place each into an ungreased mini muffin pan. [I just use a cookie sheet. --April]

5. Bake at 375 degrees for about 8 minutes. Remove from oven and immediately press a mini peanut butter cup into each ball. Cool and carefully remove from pan.

Not that that grants me any sort of reprieve for not updating this site for nearly a month. But here I am at almost 90 percent, armed with some heavy-duty cough syrup and an inhaler.

Speaking of inhalers, there should be some kind of secret society of people with asthma or other respiratory problems that necessitate the use of inhalers. They could call themselves the Inhalies. Or the Inhalahs. Woot!

Anyway. The cold originated in the state of Washington where I spent the weekend before last with my good friends. It was cold there, and the best remedy for that was pho, a food that calls to you like a siren during chilly temperatures. It’s a wonderful, seasonally appropriate bowl of goodness that warms you from the inside.

But you know what isn’t seasonally appropriate? Potato salad. But what the heck, I was home sick from work one day, we had a big bag o’ potatoes, so I shrugged my shoulders and went for it.

This recipe for Japanese potato salad comes from one of my favorite blogs, Just Hungry.

What I love about this recipe and Japanese potato salad in general is that there’s no vinegar, and thus is sweeter and less acid than your everyday picnic potato salad. Plus, what’s more difficult than boiling potatoes, a carrot and an egg, throwing in some slivered onion and cucumber and a generous amount of mayo?

I didn’t have any sweet Japanese mayo on hand, so I threw a tablespoon or two of white sugar in there to taste. I also lacked cucumber, so…just imagine green slivers in there somewhere.

Surprise, surprise, it didn’t cure my cold, but it was darn tasty and a welcome companion for lounging around at home.