Fluffy Sparkle - Food and Culture

It was a sultry Monday afternoon. I was cuddling on the couch to watch my favorite sitcom, “How I met your mother,” with my husband. But he suddenly stood up and walked into his bedroom. I knew what he would pop out the exact same question that he had asked me 10 minutes ago.  “Hey, why don't you dress up?” he was wearing his wedding suit and sternly asked me. Charlie, my husband, was diagnosed with brain cancer last summer. “Honey, come here and sit next to me. We will not be late.” I tried to smooth his irritated mood. “No, no, no. I clearly remember the schedule. Our guests are waiting for us at the yard.” He seemed to become grumpier. The doctor told me that he would lose his memory and have confusion with date or place.   “I think the green one is better.” Charlie said to me when I was ready to wear the red chiffon dress. Charlie bought me this green silk dress as my 30 birthday gift. “OK, the green one. Dear, why don't you have some water before

How many people are willing to jump out of their comfort zones? I don't know the answer. But I know I would not have been in Seattle if I had not stepped outside my first comfort zone twelve years ago. When I was younger, I used to go with the flow because I had been programmed by Chinese traditional culture to follow the crowds for a steady life rather than taking any risks. I thought my whole life would be like the majority of people who were tangled with the daily grind and plain life. So, I had followed the defined rules and had gotten on the mundane bus before I graduated from university. When I got my Master Degree in Law, I had reaped an opportunity to waive the National Graduate Entrance Examination (NGEE) to go to graduate school directly because I was the only one student who had consecutively achieved first-class scholarship in past four years. I had been hesitating for quite a while before I replied to the graduate school. A hint of unhappy and insecure sensati

I pick up my landline to dial my number. No answer. That is a good sign. I think I left my phone in somewhere at home. It was a messy morning. When I assume my phone is at home and ready to hang up, a man answers, “hello.” I am surprised and become suspicious. “Who are you?” I ask him cautiously. “Who are you? Why are you calling?” He asks me back. “The phone, you are using, is mine. You can find an engraved name, Olivia, is at the back of the phone. How did you get it? Where did you get it? Did you steal it when I was on the bus this morning?” I bluntly throw out all of my questions to him.  “I found this phone on the street.” He answered in a weird sound. “On the street? I don't believe you whatever you said. Give back my phone!” I start yelling at him even though I am a timid person. “I found it on the street. That is mine. I can use, or I can sell. “His odd provocative reaction pisses me off. “I know you want money by selling my phone. You are

I love tasting every newly-opened Szechuan hot pot restaurant in Seattle once I hear of it. I am obsessed with spicy food, especially hot pot. Why am I a hardcore fan of Szechuan hot pot? Because it makes me happy. I enjoy the numbing sensation. I love this intimate family-sharing style. Most importantly, it is the most creative dining for me compared to other Chinese food.  Szechuan hot pot gives me the special numbing feeling. The hot pot broth cooks with a variety of ingredients. Massive amounts of prickly ash and dried Szechuan chili pepper are the most fundamental secret weapons to provide the distinctive numbing flavor that other Chinese cuisines lack. Szechuan hot pot offers numerous food options. There are over thirty foods offered on most menus, including marinated spicy meat, freshly sliced beef or lamb, assorted seafood, mushroom, tofu, and vegetables. My favorite hot pot food is thinly sliced beef.  I pick up one translucent strip of beef, soak it into the spicy b