The China Diaries (2009)

Sixth grade was hitting a lull with President’s Day weekend around the corner. I was in our library room helping my mom move some boxes, the perfect time to corner me into a conversation and drop an unexpected question. “What do you think about going to China for a summer camp in July?”

“No, period, and another period just to be sure,” was my reply, but four months later, I found myself packing a month’s worth of clothes, snacks, a cat’s cradle string, and a deck of cards.

Ten years ago today, my parents, brother, and I met up with my aunt, uncle, and cousins, Camillia and Julian (whom we affectionately call Cam/Cami/Camie and Jules) at Newark Liberty International Airport. The swine flu epidemic had reached peak publicity and bloody riots in Urumqi were erupting, but the camp directors (Pang Lao Shi, Tian Lao Shi, Ge Lao Shi, and Lai Lao Shi – whom I nicknamed “Mr. Lies-a-lot”) assured our parents that we’d be taken care of, regardless of the itinerary changes. We, on the other hand, had little to care about – with twelve hours of movies, games, and no parent supervision to look forward to, nothing could stir up anxiousness. Oh, did I mention we all got individual cartons of Häagen Dazs on the plane? Best flight I’d taken at eleven years old.

Golden Hour at Meteora

Right before parking at the outlook point, Kostas gently but firmly warned us to be careful on the ice. As he was saying this, he caught my eye in the rear view mirror and his eyes gave a knowing smile. I nodded sheepishly. Mom and Dad, neither of whom noticed the exchange, simultaneously asked, one in Cantonese and the other in English, “Did you hear that, Hannah?” 

College Time Capsule

4 years, living in 3 states, attending 2 schools for 1 degree (featuring 0 all-nighters and countless tear-soaked calls to my mom!). What a ride it's been.

The Oracle at Delphi

As I was preparing to leave Ithaca and thinking fondly of everything I love about it, the more I realized there were little bits of "Greek influences" throughout the city (aside from the name itself). 

161 Things I'll Miss About Cornell

1. All that's pretty and pink. (Note to self: visit during the last 2 weeks of April if you want to relive this wonderland)

Sunday Dialogues: Turtle Shell

Is it something that makes me, me, or is it a result of growing up in the same house for 13+ years? I don't know when it all started; I just know it felt a lot worse when I left Emory.

If you tap on my shell, you'll quickly realize, as it cracks and disintegrates before your eyes, just how much of a facade, a cold front, a defense mechanism, it all is. Really and truly, I'm fragile as heck.

Shayla in Spring

It’s mighty fine being a dietetic student. Most of your closest DPD buds are transfers, definitely share your love for science, will spend 9+ hours preparing to feed 811 people with you, and are drop dead GORGEOUS. Lucky lucky me. 

Travel Guide to Santorini

Santorini - it's white, it's blue.

Chances are, you've seen photos of the sun setting over a cave house-studded caldera. And if you have, there's an even greater chance that Santorini is on your list of places to visit one day. That was true for me and my family. Despite wanting to plan a more restful vacation, we couldn't not squeeze in a stop at Santorini. In other words, I was going to see that sunset.

Here are my recommendations if you're planning a trip to Santorini:

Duke Farms

Journey to Fira, Santorini

The journey to caldera began on a frigid January evening in New Jersey. Twenty hours later, we stumbled along the hilly streets at midnight, en route to the only (and soon-to-be-favorite) gyro shop open. 

Curried Lentil Soup with Garlic-Butter Naan

My friend Gabby sent me a few photos of the spring that's blossoming on Emory's campus in Atlanta. I'm still stuck in soup weather, so here's yet another vegetarian-friendly, lentil soup recipe that'll hopefully make you feel all warm & fuzzy inside - even on a busy weeknight! 

Minimalist Baker's Lentil Fesenjān (Pomegranate Walnut Stew)

One of my Spanish professors this semester is visiting from Argentina, where they're currently experiencing summer, and I gotta give her kudos for braving Cornell's winter. She arrived a week before our -20*F days! When the sun's rays finally peaked out and kissed our window, she jumped up to celebrate. Profesora comes in everyday with a weather report (in Celsius, of course), and I always leave her class with a cheshire cat grin plastered on my face. She's incredibly accomplished, so sitting next to her in our small class of 6 students keeps me in awe. No matter how regular our conversations before class are, I marvel at how personable she is - she, too, loves walks in nature, and you bet your bottom dollar I gave her a list of "bucketlist" places to visit during her semester here. 

The recipe I'm sharing in this blogpost is adapted from Minimalist Baker's Vegan Lentil Fesenjān. Dana, the mastermind behind Minimalist Baker, couldn't have titled her blog more appropriately. Minimalist Baker's brand is marked by its simple, fuss-free and feel-good recipes. I, on the other hand, tend to further minimize recipes out of laziness or frugality, so here's my take on Dana's Fesenjān. I've also rearranged some cooking steps to help maximize this stew's depth of flavor.

This flavorful-while-simple recipe makes me think of my wonderful professor - someone who's renowned in her field, well-rounded (I've never taken a physics class and here I am, recalling thermodynamics and "entropy" from previous P-Chem units, in a contemporary Spanish literature and art class), and pure genius, but at the very core, is wonderfully human and down to earth. Esta receta es para ti, Profesora! 

NowForager's Spiced Pumpkin Muffins

Sweet treats and good friends, they're all you need!

Back in December and January, my two friends, Sophie and Nikki, were initiated into the world of baking homemade muffin through this spiced pumpkin muffin recipe. I don't kid when I say that they were natural pros; all I did was talk as they measured and mixed. These muffins were so good that Sophie's boss, a chef on West Campus loved them! 

Food Photography: Recipes Worth Making from Scratch

An Evening at Cargot Brasserie

Food unites nutrition, agriculture, and the culinary arts, three of the things in life that make me tick. 

Two years ago, I sat in my communication professor's office telling him about my lofty dreams to combine photography, writing, and food into a project that's bigger than my blog. But what's the name of this job that I can work towards? Who's looking for someone to do this? 

Turkey-Shrimp Wonton Soup with Kabocha Squash

9-11 Memorial Museum and The Frick Collection

11 am or so: The skies were clear blue, cloudless and bright. My doll jostled inside my oversized Tweety bird backpack with each bouncing step my 3-year-old feet took. Preschool ended early and abruptly. Our teachers shuffled quickly to steer us to the entrance of P.S. 128. I was the last to be picked up; it must have taken some time for the school to contact Mom who then had to call Grandpa at home. My tiny fist in his leathered hand, we rounded past our favorite corner pizzeria. Tugging on 爷爷's sleeves, I pointed to a thick, charcoal puff condensing above the distant skyline. "What is that?" Oh, it's probably a small fire somewhere. Don't worry, he patted my hand. I didn't.

Slow Cooker Green Chicken Chili

A warm chili for your upcoming Superbowl party or any night in with a good book. Throw all of the ingredients into one pot and you're set - cooking can't get any easier. 

Sunday Dialogues: Rollercoasters

Freshman year of high school, I developed an inexplicable desire in trying out for the basketball team... Without ever playing basketball (or any team sport for that matter). Sure, I could shoot free-throws, but could I handle the fast-paced aggression of a game? Would I voluntarily take a charge from someone twice my size? My piano teacher, fretting over the fingers she was priming for competitions and exams, had some choice words for my new interest. Regardless, I pioneered ahead and mysteriously found myself playing as a shooting guard/small forward.

Our head coach, B, was a loud, intimidating force. He would later become my AP Calculus teacher (and I the token victim of his teasing as involuntary teacher's pet), but I didn't have to wait until senior year to learn math from him. B taught me a lot, but I apply one lesson most often, perhaps because I've had to scramble between classes within 15 minutes: the quickest, most direct way to get somewhere is a straight line.

The Places I've Called Home

I've been a gypsy for most of my life, flitting from one community to another.