A typical summer is a time of busyness in play, spending most days in fresh air and sunshine, adventuring and traveling and feeling hot from so much movement and energy. Though it's technically not summer yet (only a couple days left) the warm weather that others have been taking advantage of to break in their summer plans has passed with little acknowledgement from us as we have spent our days (going on two weeks) nursing our health indoors. We could easily be bitter about the beautiful weather that we have not fully experienced, but surprisingly we have enjoyed our days. Bringing a bit of life inside, an embodiment of sunshine in our single windowed apartment helps, as well as big imaginations. We have been pirates, following treasure maps and fighting dragons (who knew pirates were so versatile?) We've watched ballets, and performed our own. We've created art, taken naps, picked out summer books, planned summer birthdays, and enjoyed passing moments with peaceful quiet.

"After all, I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.” [.]

“I am never alone wherever I am. The air itself supplies me with a century of love. When I breathe in, I am breathing in the laughter, tears, victories, passions, thoughts, memories, existence, joys, moments, and the hues of the sunlight on many tones of skin; I am breathing in the same air that was exhaled by many before me. The air that bore them life. And so how can I ever say that I am alone?” C. JoyBell C.

Spring is a rejuvenating breath after a long winter, one that fills and enlivens. Spring never fails to leave before I am ready, but not without first preparing us for the work and play that summer brings, planting literal and intangible seeds. I always want it to last, I know I am not the only one, and though the blossoms are soon blown away as sunny days dominate the moody grey ones, what endures are memories of every spring before with all their anticipation and high hopes. Summer is practically here, and I am so excited for all we have planned, but I always miss spring.

in Hong Kong.

The wet market was a favorite place to visit in Hong Kong. It's the outdoor market where vendors sell and locals buy fresh fruits, vegetables, flowers, meats, and seafood. It is all fresh. You will find quite a bit of the seafood still swimming in shallow water, wriggling around. One fish flopped onto the street in front of us as we walked past, and when we alerted the vendor, she assured us that he (the fish) was just playing around and to leave it, he would find his way back eventually. We also watched a man struggle to get a crab into a box to be sent home with a hungry customer, as if the poor thing knew its fate.

The market is within walking distance, a few blocks away, from where my grandparents live in Causeway Bay. Past Times Square, through the dry market where they sold dehydrated goods such as mushrooms, herbs, even swallows nests (we spent little time there), and under a concrete overpass where artisans, bums, and voodoo women congregated waiting for customers willing to pay for revenge on someone who had done them wrong.

The market is contained within a couple streets, including a number of indoor stalls toward the back where they sell less popular items like frogs, eel, chickens, and lizards, all alive. They had flowers, fresh vegetables, fresh lychee, dragons eyes (longan), dragon fruit, fish of every color, freshly butchered meat (that I couldn't help wondering how fresh it really was), seafood I didn't recognize, fresh and dried noodles, chicken and duck eggs, and a surprising amount of produce from South America. Nearby were bakeries, soy milk cafés, and shops with roasted fowl in the window. The street is covered in water, an ode to its name, and the sounds of vendors and customers bartering and exchanging give the mechanical sounds of the city living energy.

In March I traveled to Hong Kong with my youngest and my father. It was a trip taken to connect generations, a trip I have looked forward to my entire life. It was fascinating to find that this place, so strikingly different than the homeland I have lived in, could feel so familiar. It may have been from the years I have dreamed of visiting the city where my father grew up, or the countless videos, photographs and memories I have seen and heard of over the years. But I like to think that it's because this city is in my blood. It was like coming home, learning a bit of who I am.

Amid the chaos of this city filled with thousands of buildings, so many many taxis, and millions of people who seem to be in constant motion, I loved finding moments of calm, simplicity, and a touch of nature. 

all photos taken with my iPhone 4s.

One of my favorite things about living in the same town as my parents is that my father invites us over for dinner. A lot. His first love is my mother, but a close second is food. Telephone calls always begin with, "What have you eaten?" Gifts are nearly always food related. When he travels, sightseeing is based on where and what he wants to eat. He loves to discuss recipes he is testing and perfecting, and he will often tell me the compliments he receives from others while simultaneously confessing he's not as good as they think (even thought he is every bit as talented as they say).  His only vice is that he is not a salad lover. The vegetables he does eat are often boiled to death or fried, and a salad is almost always an afterthought, graciously included for company. This salad is a love child of my father's tastes, and his need for fresh food.

Udon Noodle Salad
serves 4

8 ounces dry udon noodles
Greens; swiss chard, spinach, baby kale, mesclun, etc
cilantro, stems discarded
1/2 red cabbage, the center cut out and thinly sliced
4-8 ounces tempeh, broken into bite size pieces
peanut sauce (recipe below)

Bring a pan of water to boil. Add dry noodles, stirring around and cooking until al dente. Remove and run under cool water. Remove excess water and place in a large bowl. Add a few spoonfuls of peanut sauce to the noodles, mixing around to coat.

Combine the greens, cilantro leaves, sliced cabbage, and tempeh into the noodles. Mix to coat, then plate and serve with a garnish of cilantro and a slice of lime.

Peanut Sauce
1/4 cup peanut butter
2 Tablespoons honey or agave
2 Tablespoons nama shoyu or dark soy sauce
2 teaspoons sweet chili sauce
1/4 - 1/2 teaspoon japanese sesame oil
juice of half a lime
2 - 4 Tablespoons almond milk or water
handful of cilantro

Combine all ingredients into a blender or food processor. Process until well mixed and cilantro is chopped fine.