Sweet Treats

Last night, Ellie P (bride-to-be on 09/02/06) asked me if I could accompany her to "test drive" a few wedding cakes today. I know.... it's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it. Sure. Before that though, I had to earn this privilege by helping her put together a few DIY wedding invites for additional names her future M.I.L. added to the list. We exchanged updates and compared notes on the futures we face. Interestingly, we both are moving out of Chicago (she to the West Coast, I to the UK), we both quit our jobs (she from the Prosecutor's Office, I from the firm), and we're both facing a clean slate of having no friends and family in a new environment. In short, we're both busy-bodies who all too suddenly will face the possibility of (horrors!) idleness. Seeing her with her share her anxieties, I definitely could relate, and was somehow comforted that I was not being weird for having a few of my own. After all, my move was in many respects "larger" than hers. And here's the rub, she tells me, -- To take or not to take the CA Bar exams. Now that anxiety is perfectly legit -- who wants to undergo another root canal? I remind myself that I too will need to brace myself for another FOREIGN Bar exam, sooner or later and whether I like it or not. All that discussion led to the conclusion that as lawyers we did not have much of a choice. Unless we take and pass the bar exams in the jurisdiction where we live, in all likelihood we will end up as barritas, rather than barristers. And that of course, is no good.

So off we go in the afternoon to indulge our sweet tooth. First we went to Roeser's on W North Avenue (by Humboldt Park). The little shop was surprisingly packed. The lady brought out samples of their sponge, pound and chocolate cakes, and a small tray with butter cream, lemon, raspberry, whip, and guava fillings. I was pleasantly surprised with the guava which tasted as sweet as the fruit picked at its ripest on a warm, Philippine summer day. The prices were not too bad either. The chocolate however was not too good, and Ellie had "chocolate" on top of her list. Then we hied off to Dinkel's on N Lincoln. Now this place is spacious, clean, well-lit, well cooled (full blast A/C on an extremely hot summer day, wooo hooo), and had an array of sweet goodies that reminded me of the pastry shops in Beverly (England). The designs of the wedding cakes were also very nice, modern, not tacky... but of course, all that came with a price tag. Interestingly, both Roeser's and Dinkels are longtime denizens of Chicago which have become "institutions" of sorts. Each has its street honorarily named after the founders. Both bakeries were found by German immigrants, and continue to down the generations. Now that is sweet.

Photo: Arcade of windows at Frank Lloyd Wright home, Oak Park, Chicago.

I say potato, you say "poTAHto"

"Observations of an expat raised in Asia, living in America, and having an English fiance"

The English are known to be a polite lot, even under testing cirumstances. They are slow to gripe, and when they do, they catch themselves and quickly end their mutterings with "oh well, mustn't grumble". They apologize under almost ANY circumstance, whether they offend, or are offended. And it's not that they're being timid. It's more that they loathe to complain and make a scene, or call attention to themselves by getting into any form of controversy. Sometimes I can tell that this tolerance comes from a place of being "patronizing," a feeling of "noblese oblige", of having to take the role of the magnanimous, at least as far as they can. (I should know that when I see it. After all, I myself come from a race that holds the middle kingdom with the rest of the world moving along the peripheries). And it's not just a nuance of language. It's all borne out of culture. While Americans tend to express their feelings with flair and the works, the Brits are champions of understatement.

Scenario One: On a nice clear day, you walk into your favorite coffee shop. The barrista greets you "hi, how are you doing today?". You smile back and, no matter how bad things are going, say "Good, good. I'm good. And you?".
The British response to the same barrista: "Hmmm... well, not too bad. Thank you." No matter how great things are going.

Scenario Two: You have an appointment with a colleague to meet at 9:00 in the morning at the corner of Broadway and Halsted. You wait, and wait, and wait. 30 minutes later you get a call from the guy saying he will not be able to make it because he woke up with an awful headache (which you know reeks of "hangover"). How would you feel about the whole frickin' futile wait? "Royally pissed. The inconsiderate bastard!"
The British response: "I'm a little bit annoyed, really".

Scenario Three: You're standing in a looooong line waiting to get into a supposedly blockbuster movie right behind a group of extremely, annoyingly loud, attention-calling, teenagers with the kind of vocabulary that soap-and-water can't clean, shoving at each other in their idea of fun. You turn to your British partner and whisper "I am thisclose to strangling these *&^%$$#@@....". Mr. England's eyes darts toward them quickly, then shifting back to you, he says in rueful tone : "Right. Quite special, aren't they?".

p.s., The above scenarios REALLY happened, with slight variations, to protect the obvious. :)

Photo: WINDOW to the Windy City. "The Bean" (real name: "Cloud Gate" by Anish Kapoor, British sculptor) at Millennium Park, on Michigan Avenue, Chicago.

Thai Food Trip

It's unpretentious but it delivers -- Thai Pastry, on Broadway by Argyle, is one authentic Thai food gem. Today I met up with Roshen for a late lunch there to celebrate her surviving 2 days of the Illinois Bar Exams. We shared the spring rolls, quite unusual because of the egg wrapper, instead of the usual rice-paper. I totally enjoyed my Yom Woon Sen (vermicelli in a spicy vinegar sauce with ground pork, red onions, lettuce, spring onions and mushrooms), now my new favorite. The dish was light, healthy, nicely presented, and the sauce had a definite kick to it. Never mind the slightly tacky ambiance of the place, -- it's just the front to a wonderful kitchen. And, to top it all, I had THE BEST watermelon bubble tea -- and heck, I know my bubble tea.

Except for the expected anxieties of flunking and having to repeat the dreaded review process, Ro was fine. I guess being able to exhale is good. She ran some of the essay questions by me ("is it a secured transactions, a negotiable instruments, or a UCC sales question?".... uhm, that sounded to me like a Constitutional law issue there....just kidding), but in the end we decided doing a post-op was not entirely a bright idea. Nor was in going to be a calming exercise in any remote way. Change topic -- She is touring Guatemala for 2 days to brush up on her Spanish. I envy her that. I seriously need to polish my Spanish too. My speech isn't quite as in tune as my ear for it.

Photo: Window of a house near Lincoln Square, Chicago.

Pre-Big Thing Jitters

There are days when I have unexplained jitters about getting married. They occur more and more often now as the Big Day draws close, oftentimes, at levels approaching the lines of "panic". My mom has a theory about it. She thinks it stems from taking too long to make the step, from growing too comfortable with being alone. She always says that with a "tsk tsk"-ish tone, and always ending with "If only you had married (name) when you were (age)," much to my amusement. In any case, with my delay I now join the ranks of Diane Sawyer, Marcia Cross, Sandra Bullock, Sharon Stone, Christiane Amanpour ... beautiful, strong, accomplished women who tarried and dillydallied before taking the plunge. I should wear that as a badge of honor, if not as the scarlet letter to mark my delusion for including myself alongside them. But heck, until C came along, the shirts just didn't quite fit right. And while I am one who needed my space and independence, and my "reasonably" stubborn streak (a much-desired virtue among lawyers anyway), "the others" just seemed to share the same qualities in proportions that clashed with mine. My defense mechanism when I get the jitters is to remind myself of the moment when I just knew that C was "The One"-- the dawning realization my married friends promised would come when the one meant for forever shows up. I have the memory of that split second vividly in my mind. And thankfully, remembering that itty-bitty magical moment calms and reassures me. Well, at least until the next attack. (:

Photo: WINDOW on top of entrance to the Symphony Center (home to the Chicago Symphony Center), Michigan Avenue, Chicago. (c)2006

Friday, Food, and Friends

New York is one of the capitals of the world and Los Angeles is a constellation of plastic, San Francisco is a lady, Boston has become Urban Renewal, Philadelphia and Baltimore and Washington wink like dull diamonds in the smog of Eastern Megalopolis, and New Orleans is unremarkable past the French Quarter. Detroit is a one-trade town, Pittsburgh has lost its golden triangle, St. Louis has become the golden arch of the corporation, and nights in Kansas City close early. The oil depletion allowance makes Houston and Dallas naught but checkerboards for this sort of game. But Chicago is a great American City. Perhaps it is the last of the great American cities. - Norman Mailer, "Miami and the Siege of Chicago," 1968.

The week started in scorching heat (2 days of 100-degree highs), but in what seemed like a nanosecond the skies dimmed, and here come the rains again. Chicago weather is remarkably inconstant, but thank God it's Friday, and I will not have to deal with this for the next couple of days in high heels.

Tonight, I capped the work week by having dinner with Melanie at Tiffin in Devon. We had the Hydrabadi beigan bharta (eggplant curry) and the chicken tikka masala, dried. The bharta was its usual excellent, and the chicken was almost perfect. We finished everything (read: clean), and did not have to answer the attendant's "is everything ok?" pleasantry except to look down at our by then empty plates and smile back. And nothing better than to top the meal off with a nice, bittersweet cup of Masala tea -- perfect for a nippy night like this. Tiffin makes it exactly the way I like it. (Note to self : Effects of tea is driving this blog in the middle of the night!)

Good food, it is said, ends with good talk. It was great to exchange updates with Mel and to see her eyes light up at the new "how-to" chick lit of Giuliana DePandi that I pulled out for her. I could sense her eagerness to curl up tonight to read the book, which she swears she can cover in one night. We'll see. I will miss days such as these with my Chicago friends when I move.

Photo: WINDOWS at Hallway, Northwestern University School of Law, Chicago. (c)2006

New (First) Blog

"A thing long expected takes the form of the unexpected when at last it comes." - Mark Twain

"There are times when life surprises one, and anything may happen, even what one had hoped for." - Ellen Glasgow

To C, who is more than I bargained for :), and to a future that is beyond what we dream of.

Photo: Graffiti on boarded window on Adams, between Michigan Avenue and Wabash, Chicago. (c) 2006