Remote Year Month 12: Mexico the Climate Crisis to the Corona Crisis

I learned in Mexico that wisdom from the ancient times to now is needed to deal with the climate crisis and the challenges to our civilization of the time. Access to clean water, preparing for extreme weather, the survival of old ways of life, and how they can apply to us have become more crucial. Rooting out corruption and greed are the keys to the path forward. Wish it was this simple.

Out of all the places I went on Remote Year, the La Condesa Colonia definitely did not look like we were in a developing country. Parts of it and surrounding environs could be mistaken for leafy American suburbs, except for the orange jugs of whatever that are ubiquitously lugged around and the need to carefully source every beverage. It was the only place where we were advised to start taking probiotics and warned about how sick we could get. The attitude in Southeast Asia toward “surprise cleanses” seemed blase in comparison. When I got to Mexico, I watched the recommended BBC Doc “World’s Busiest Cities,” with a huge focus on the struggle for clean water in Mexico City, by far the largest city in North America and second largest in the Western Hemisphere. From dying ways of traditional life to corruption in poor neighborhoods to massive infrastructures to account for climate change, it was something that felt inescapable in Mexico City even in one of the most trendy and posh districts. 

When I landed in NYC, I couldn’t help but be so astonished by the drinkable tap from the sink, but we have our problems and responsibilities. We have some much knowledge from past and present to shape the future. 

Mexico City was also my last month on Remote Year, and the most close to home literally and also to the soul since I’m from SoCal. The rest are bits and bobs I wrote and reflected on before re-entering to a world where such mobility was about to dramatically come to a sudden halt. 

8/16/19 The Second to Last Week

The thing that is strangest now to digest is what moments felt the most vivid versus those that have dulled through time. How much life that got packed in a privileged year versus real life. Realizing some of what makes travel special is actually its scarcity. 

It feels ungrateful to say that sometimes this life has felt a little less special at moments because it is all the time and that one of the biggest things I learned this year was the need for rest and how to rest, and the need for some constants for health and self-care and how valuable those are, and how lucky I am to have those moments to recharge for the sheer insane energy an undertaking like this took.

Not sure how I will really feel back in a routine and the grind in NYC, I miss the things that used to grate at me, like the repetitiveness of life I think I’m more ready for. My mind and my body are catching up to my age and a more settled life phase that I’m happy to lead because I did the things I wanted to do when a lot of people will just give up on their hopes in dreams in their late twenties. I moved to NYC for a rising six figure salary and traveled the world for a year. How many people want to do that and could do it, but actually would? Me that’s who.

When I reflect back this week a lot of my thoughts circle around how connected and common the world is, how optimism and negative outlooks vary so much globally, and the strangeness of bonding and becoming friends with people I wouldn’t expect in a strange singular life snapshot. 

Ultimately, I think I’ll measure this year more by the year that comes after and how much friendships and mindshifts actually stick. 

The one thing I do walk away from is how much opportunity there is in the world and each moment in life, which is ironically difficult in the opportunity and distraction rich and scarcity mentality-rife that is New York corporate life. How lucky we are to live in a city with everything and opportunity, but people are so unhappy. I hope I don’t fall back into the mindset more than anything and embrace what comes next. Stop being afraid, and live with the consequences after all, after this, you can do it. 

8/19/19 Confidence, the Growth Zone, and Gratitude

Scratching that Itch

When I left NY I wasn’t ready for the endless routine of life without accomplishing what I wanted to do: live aboard, adventure. I just wasn’t ready to settle and felt like the window to do so was closing. I wasn’t particularly happy with my career, but made leaps and bounds in development in my time abroad.

It’s funny now near the end, I want routine now. I think I’m happy to start settling in and meet someone to settle down. My wanderlust for something like this has been fulfilled. I can still imagine moving to another country for a bit or for long-term job travel, but I’m ready to be closer to my family, lean into my friendships for the long-term, find my career goals and life’s journey for the long haul. 

I was pretty indifferent about the concept of the growth zone, which was a mantra. I even make jokes about, “What am I supposed to grow this year?” I just wanted to travel and see the world, and that seemed like enough work.

But here I am, with a growth zone tattoo on my ankle along with a lot of the group I traveled with. 

I’m eternally grateful for the ability and health to take this journey. It’s not easy. Honestly, I feel really broken down. I’m so glad I did this. I’m so lucky to have had the privilege of a job and living in probably is one of the best times to be alive. 

Processing Leaving 

How do you even begin to process traveling for an entire year and living out of a suitcase? What prompts any sane person to go and then follow through to travel with a group of strangers, packing around month to parts unknown?

Leaving for an adventure was hard. Coming back is hard, will be hard. A year is short, but some years are more significant than others. I know it looks great in pictures, but I don’t know how to describe the moments I had where I wondered what insane people do this. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop being able to stop talking about and thinking about Remote Year, to the point it will annoy anyone who wasn’t on it, but you can’t do something like this for so long and so hard without it profoundly affecting you. I’ve learned a lot, and it’s part of my story I want to tell and will be writing about in the months to come and sharing the journey more intimately than the out-of-context random photo dumbs and Insta-stories.

At the Airport

I’m at the Mexico City airport wiping away tears but also excited for what comes next in life. I can think of two themes I can share about the year that I want to share in this moment and remember it first before the madness of finding a new place to live, going back to work, and building a life again at home swallows me for the next month. 

  1.  緣分 In Chinese and Vietnamese culture, we have this idea of Yuan Fen. It’s one of those words that cannot truly be translated, but it refers to the serendipity of human relationships and who you are ‘meant to’ meet. I don’t necessarily believe in some cosmic force binding the universe together, but I believe that 緣分 is a precious quality and has too much inherent synchroneity to leave to chance. I felt a lot of loneliness and a lot of human connection this year. I traveled with effectively a group of white people all year, and no other Asian Americans quite like me. Even though my experience was different in a lot of ways, I also believe difference and acknowledging can make connection stronger and more honest. I’m surprised at how close and attached I got to the people I traveled with and how much more connected I feel to a larger world. From the tip of Canada to the Strait of Magellan, Las Americas are a mix of cultures shaped by a beautiful mix of people and tragedy of conquest and exploitation that we’re only beginning to unpack. In Asia, I’m surprised at how Asian I still am, not just by blood, but by thought and culture and how my life, future, soul will always live on both sides of the Pacific. And Europe, guarding the riches and sins of the old world, it felt like watching a case study in for trying to forge new integrated identity and reality in a world where old powers, antiquity, and homogeneity are fading. 

This year was full of 緣, and prompted by it.

2. Growth Zone. This is the tattoo with the dot representing self, and a larger circle representing the growth zone – a Remote Year staple term. I really rejected the growth zone for a lot of the starting months because I just wanted to enjoy myself and the fact that life is insanely overstimulating you, not just seeing new things, but the fact you always have to be alert and even buying groceries or going to a pharmacies is so hard and different every month. This was our group tattoo for the month, and while I now share this with a dozen or so people the meaning is different for each of us. 

For me and growth zone, and especially seeing all great work The Cosmos is going and what we’ve talking about and will be something to keep in mind the months moving forward is moving from a survival and scarcity mentality to an abundance mentality. The skills you use to survive, especially as the children of immigrants and refugees, can’t be what helps you thrive. I’ll see this reminder now every morning when I’m putting on my shoes, and think about all the amazing experiences I have and the people I shared it with who I grew to love.

My lesson from RY was going from survivorship to the possibilities of a global world, of seeing how much is there. I’m glad I got this lesson, because now reflecting back on this, it would be tested in a way I never imagined.

Remote Year Month Eight: Discovering the Modern Transnational Asia + Living Out My Fantasy Expat Life

I remember on a call in Japan, I said I’d started to lose touch with reality. The brutal time difference got to me. It would be 11pm when New York got up at 9am. I didn’t get enough sunlight. I dove further into madness, going on a whirlwind tour of Seoul, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Singapore during my official month in Kuala Lumpur. It’d been months since I’d been in the US and in an office. Spending time that month in Hong Kong, Taiwan, Korea, and to a place as multicultural, modern, yet feeling ancient and traditional was a homecoming for a lost daughter of the diaspora, and peek at what being a modern Asian will be in the decades ahead. People with a mastery of the past, present, and future. For me, it’s new ways to look at what is being transnationally Asian, versus the superficiality and respectability politics of being solely Asian American.

It took me a long time to piece together what I learned from that month, and this was the draft that didn’t have a narrative. This was the most difficult post to edit compared the previous months and in Latin America.

I think what I learned is what an idealized life could be for me, and my potential place in a modern Asia. I think we’re at such a moment of the power shift to the East, perhaps I picked the wrong side of the Ocean to make my bet on, but I had that month in Malaysia to live out a fantasy expat life in a nice apartment with a view of the Petronas Towers. 

One of my biggest observations of Asia versus ten years ago when I’d spent extended time is rediscovery of culture and pride. It’s not just about replicating the West anymore, and the COVID crisis probably is destroying any last vestiges of inferiority/superiority complexes that were so prominent in my youth

The rise of a Modern Asia is no longer just about economy, but culture and rise of civil society. This has been the story anchored by China’s rise as a superpower, but the modernization of Asia is a far richer story. It sounds self-orientalizing to say it and really something an Asian American might say, but I say this as someone fluent in an Asian language and able to speak several dialects. I have to say, I reveled in how deeply I could move in KL whereas it was much more difficult for the traveling companions. KL wasn’t like Vietnam, Japan, or Thailand in its welcoming of tourists. There’s no timidity when everyone speaks English. But I could easily become more of an insider depending which Chinese dialect I decided to speak, even though it’s obvious I’m not Malaysian. The Malaysian Chinese welcomed me especially regardless. 

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KL showed me that multiculturalism, preserving identity, and evolving it are possible, a model for modern Asians in adapting our heritage. From the hipster renditions of Kopitiams to the art, I admire the Malaysian Chinese and the beauty of a multilingual multicultural society for carving out spaces that integrate the traditional and modern without contradiction. 

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On a side note, I think Andrew Yang is so out-of-touch for his respectability politics. I think as a diaspora people, we’ll always be looked at with suspicion on both sides of the Pacific and we have to tread carefully, but in whatever hands you’re dealt with in life, you can play them a good way or a bad way. Losing your heritage and connecting Asian to be as American as possible to gain the approval of a dying empire is not a winning strategy and dooming yourself to a life full of microaggressions in corporate America, or worse, COVID hate in Trump’s America

In my mind, even as a single 35 year female New Yorker, I still have some vestiges of the ideals of Republican China, a place between ideology and dreams, and restoring the light. The month in KL is where I felt like I got to live an ideal life in a borrowed cultural sphere, it was great to be a guest in KL. As nice it was to be asked if I was a returning Malayisan, it was nice to in a place so multicultural where I could speak the brambling mixes of Mandarin/Cantonese/Hokkein without the anxieties I’d feel in China/Taiwan/Hong Kong in the contentious times we live in now. It felt like a great place to be an Asian outsider, a wannabe expat for a month. I joked to my friends on RY if I didn’t have a good job to go back to in NY, I’d have just stayed. 

There’s no neat bow to end this month, just ramblings and learning about what it is to be modern Asian. The question I ask myself is what is my generation’s place and contribution?

Also, given this is a food blog, let me tell you, the food is incredible. I enjoyed the food in KL the most:

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The Meat Cafeteria: A Modern Version of the Meat Sweats in Prague at Kantyna

I ate so much my first meal here it made me sick. Then I went back twice for more. One of my few repeats during my month in Prague.

An acquaintance recommended Kantyna in Prague simply as a “meat cafeteria.” Kantya feels like an upscale art deco NYC deli. I guess it is a mother source via feedback loop of history since Central European Jewish immigrants brought the roots of that from this region of Europe.

The beef carpaccio, beef tartar, and cuts of brisket are standouts here. Pair wisely with potato pancakes and rotating sides.

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I have to say, I feel a theme here of somewhat fetishizing the old cafeteria style dining and making it upscale, and I’m here for it. Even though I’m someone who typically loathes the notion that your food is suddenly better by “elevating it.” To me, it’s just modernizing a dining experience with nice flatware and decor, making something traditional super well that suits modern diners of every stripe, and cooking food faithful to the past and tradition. It’s really hard to do, and Kantya excels. Eat the meat.

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Kantya is part of Ambiente restaurant group behind other great dining destinations I enjoyed such as Lokal, Eska, and Cafe Savoy that all highly recommend.

  • Website
  • Politických vězňů 1511/5, 110 00 Nové Město, Czechia
  • ~$10-$25 USD depending on gluttony level 

Shoutout to Two Little Red Hens in Upper East Side/Yorkville

Two Little Red Hens is still my all-time favorite NYC bakery for what I consider quintessentially NY treats: Cheesecake, Carrot Cake (ok not really NY but it’s the standout here), Coffee Cake, Brooklyn Blackout, Black and White Cookie but in fluffy moiste cake form.

What’s especially excellent are their mini-cupcakes in every flavor if you’re not committed to a big cake. I heard they recently got a shoutout on some “best of” list so they were extra crowded when I visited last. Totally worth it though and glad I got to share this place with my mom when she was visiting and kind of an nice welcome back to NYC treat for me.

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They’re also on this lovely stretch of what was once “Little Germany” in this stretch of Yorkville.

More details on Two Little Red Hens in my ViewingNYC Post:


Every few weeks or for a special event, I’ll take a trip to Yorkville to get some noms at Two Little Red Hens, a charming bakery on 86th and 2nd. For a place that has over 1,700 Yelp reviews, it doesn’t seem to have the name recognition it deserves compared to the Magnolia bakeries of the world. I’ll take Two Little Red Hens over the ‘famous’ bakeries any day.

First off, the winning item for me is Two Little Red Hens’ Carrot Cake. Moist, flavorful, and honest-tasting with each ingredient standing out– it’s the only way I can describe it. Even the frosting has a subtle tart flavor rather than the usual overwhelming sweet overload. Their cheesecake and chocolate cakes are also standouts.

Two Little Red Hens’ amazing cakes also come in cupcake form. Get the Brooklyn Blackout, Red Velvet, Chocolate, and Carrot Cake to get a comprehensive sampling, which conveniently comes in large or mini-size variants. I confess… I normally don’t really like cupcakes and never fully understood the craze, but I’ll lovingly carry a box of the ones from here back with me on the air-conditioned bus so the frosting doesn’t get ruined.

The scones, banana bread, and the pecan coffee cake are my personal favorites to take on the road, which sometimes get overlooked in favor of everything else here.

What I love about the food at Two Little Red Hens is that each flavor remains distinctive and complex rather than just a homogenizing sugary taste, as you often find in other local bakeries.

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Remote Year Month 1: Split, Croatia (and Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina) Top Food Experiences

Soparnik

Detailed in my Top 7 Croatia Experiences. If you have a chance to try this fresh, or at all, don’t miss out. As far as I know, the family that made it from scratch for us sells it at the Split Greenmarket.

Michelin Star restaurant in Split that doesn’t disappoint. Recommended by a local for high quality traditional food that doesn’t break the budget. She mentioned they could charge more but don’t because they want people to have a great konoba experience. Make a reservation as it’s a bouncer-like.

Mostar: Tima Irma and Cafe Alma

Not Split, but a not-too-long bus ride across the border gets you to Mostar, which is very worth going to.

National Restaurant Tima Irma 

Worth the line and the gruff service. Insanely good prices for quality and quantity of food in a great atmosphere. Still one of my top Remote Year Food Experiences writing about it so much later. Get the Mijesano meso or mixed meat, which includes a generous serving of cevapi.

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Cafe Alma

Go for the Bosnian coffee, similar to Turkish coffee, but not, and served with Turkish delight. The locals will explain to you or watch vid in link. One of few if not only still coffee roaster in town, with one that “survived the war” as the family brags.

Luka Gelato 

Delicious gelato. Also a bit off the madness of the main squares of the old town and peaceful to sit near the fountain. Lots of unique flavors, not your average basic ass hipster gelato place.

Green Market 

Amazing farmer’s market with insanely good quality produce. Honest vendors and great prices considering how touristy the rest of the area is.

Dvor

Really beautiful, I mean, beautiful restaurant set outside an elegant old home and next to the beach. Think fifth date. Kind of a hilarious Remote Year memory for me as I went to dinner here for the first time with someone who would become one of my best friends on Remote Year, but kind of an awkward place for a first meeting. As with most restaurants like this, and especially in South Europe, it’s Slow dining with the capital S, but you come here if that’s what you’re looking for. We weren’t expecting it and went off a recommendation, but lovely.

Fisherman’s Pension

Rustic seafood island hopping. If you’re visiting and able to book a private tour to visit the islands, I’d request going to this place. A part of my Top 7 Croatia Experiences.

Uje Oil Bar

Worth a stop in the shop for an olive oil tasting and a meal at the delicious restaurant. I recommend their products to buy home for gifts, really good quality. Olive oil is what you’d expect sitting on the Mediterranean.

Bokeria

This restaurant is definitely kind of fancy tourist hipster, but is delicious and the restaurant group is committed to more sustainable tourism and being a good force in the community. Extensive Croatian wine list.

Find the location to all these restaurants and my other favorite spots this month on this map.

 

Remote Year Month One: All the Feelings about Croatia, and Bosnia. Where I was at and what what I learned. 

Where I Was At 

Every month on Remote Year, I wrote a bit about my mood and what I learned from each place each month. I got more disciplined about this over time, even taking a spreadsheet grid of each place I went to and what I liked. I’ll start posting that in the months to come. But it’s been more than a little over a year since I left and almost two months into my return, so I should start.

I have to say, a lot of my learnings are not necessarily the most happy, especially in the beginning, but I hope reflective and needed to decompress from a year as unbelievable I’ve had. I’ll start on some of the fun stuff soon. 

To start, I had a dark predilection for visiting and learning about unhappy places and sectarian conflict. I can easily draw a straight line back to my own family’s history. You project your own history on the history of others in the tragic tapestry of the human experience a way to sort out one’s inheritance. It’s a particular Asian American refugee neurosis for those of us in the tribe and other with similar experiences, but difficult for outsiders to comprehend that constant state of mind. Given world events the past few years the awareness I’d soon no longer be considered young, I was in a kind of mood. 

I wasn’t ready for a routine and not ready to settle down. At this point, I’d also gone through years of feeling figuring out my identity, that didn’t fit in anywhere and deprogramming myself from intergenerational trauma. Unfortunately through that progress I had evolved into the sort Asian female yuppy monster – you’ve seen them on the streets of NY, SF and LA, a bunch of recovering ABGs never too far from a needless act of aggression. 

My co-workers affectionately told me “you broke out of a middle class prison” by job hacking to work remotely for a year. I digress to say we’re better off than most New Yorkers, so it’s some real first world urban elite complaints. Still I wasn’t feeling it, so with the encouragement of a dear friend and mentor who did RY I put laptop on my backpack and got on a plane to Croatia, which had to be the most fitting places for both literally plunging into beautiful ocean and into dark history. 

All the Feelings About Croatia and Bosnia

In between daily gorgeous swims in the Adriatic outside of our beachy hipster workspace, exploring the islands, seeing insane natural beauty, running through roman ruins, and still working my full time job, I steeped myself in really terrible news articles and reels about Srebenica and the Bosnian wars for probably more time than was healthy and read Girl at War  and The Tiger’s Wife. I remember also reading S in college and remembered what Dr. Quinn, shout to one of the best professors I’ve had, taught us about the unfortunate nature of how history repeats itself despite knowing it and the shock to Europeans of it happening again in living memory at their shores in the Balkans. 

This behavior was probably not something someone should do on a couch with a view of the sea or anywhere for their psychological and emotional health. This month I had in Croatia and the next two were weird places for dark historical tourism juxtaposed to a kind of magical European vacation and drunken party Eurotrip alongside serious work hours and pressure on top of the madness of the first two months. Your sense of time and experience becomes warped and compressed in this way on Remote Year along with a sense of displacement. A friend told me about a French word dépaysement that describes it well I think.

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I felt this acutely traveling into Bosnia. It was really the first time I contemplated and saw blue hair blonde eyed White people in such a destitute ruins and recovering from such a recent and tragic history. 

In Croatia, it felt like the past wasn’t far behind, but the scars of war are visibly gone in most places a tourist would go. In Bosnia, bullet holes and no go zones with land mines are part of the tourism. It’s one of the early experiences that sticks with me. When I think about my time there, I think about one of the best meals I had all year and the beautiful landscape while sinking into a disturbingly recent shocking moment of humanity’s depravity. 

Dark tourism aside, I loved hanging out with a few college students telling me how their family saved the coffee roaster they got from Italy during the war and about Bosnian coffee. They asked me questions about what I was doing there and expressed how they wanted to join the EU and be like another EU member state, be able to travel and get jobs in places like Germany. Definitely a favorite moment of the trip, even if bittersweet. Really want better for them.

What I Learned

The enormity of how little I knew about this part of the world sank in, and I consider myself pretty cultured and well-traveled. Everything from the beauty, how charming the people were in a particularly slavic way, and histories I need to learn more about. 

So my lesson for the first month was fitting for the start: how little I actually knew and still don’t know. This would prove to be hypnotic contrast when I got to Asia, so in hindsight I felt grateful for the humility. I really leaned into that vibe as we traveled to Prague.

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First Transition Day aka traveling hoard of digital douchebags.

The Best Foie Gras Experience at Au Pied de Cochon

This is a Love Letter: disclaimer a place I haven’t visited in awhile (possibly months or a year) but still exists in a place I love dearly but no longer live full-time at the moment – check latest reviews on other sites accordingly as some items might be out of date.

I had one of the best dining experiences traveling alone at Au Pied de Cochon in Montreal in the super cool Plateau Mont Royal neighborhood. It’s not a fancy pants white table cloth place, feels more like an upscale bistro/French brassiere that is unpretentious yet refined. Definitely fine dining although hipster beards and tattoos would not be out-of-place here.

I didn’t get a chance to try the famed foie gras poutine since I dined alone, but I definitely will if I have the opportunity to return to Montreal. Instead I had apps of a fresh baguette with butter, definitely above average. I do think it’s the sign of a good restaurant when items that are sometimes throwaway are given a lot of care.

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Then I felt adventurous and had the foie gras nigiri. I had something similar awhile back at A Plus Sushi in Taipei. Not the most pretty, but holy crap, it tasted amazing and genuinely like nothing I had ever before. Fusion food tends to be crap, but this combo of big ole hunks of high quality foie gras, good nigiri rice, topped with the slightest bit of soy sauce made this trip worth it alone.

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Of course, I had have what Anthony Bourdain had, the Canard en Conserve or Duck in a Can – literally a pound of duck and foie gras cooked in a can with vegetables and thyme so all the fatty juices melange. I rarely can’t finish a dish, but the richness and how tasty it was almost nasty. I kept trying to shovel more bites of the fatty duck, foie gras, and lard-glazed veggies but couldn’t especially after the plate of nigiri and bread. I ended up taking half it back with me. I joke around about eating heart attacks in a can, but very little hyperbole here. Perhaps kind of an abomination to French Canadian chefs, but it was bomb the next day reheated with sriracha sauce.

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Eating at Au Pied de Cochon and Jean Talon Market were definitely the highlights of my trip to Montreal. For solo travelers, it’s a fantastic place to dine alone with a long bar in front of friendly chatty kitchen staff. I was far from the only one enjoying a foie gras feast on a solo trip.

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Ironically, I’m writing this love letter I mentioned I had been there to an older Canadian couple on the same bus I was traveling on from Croatia to Bosnia, who I thought were surely French tourists at first but then turned out to be awesome friendly Canadians whom I talked food and politics all day after we bonded after I mentioned I had been there. Nothing brings together people like food.

  • Website
  • 536 Duluth Est, Montreal, QC, H2L 1A9
  • $30+ Canadian Dollars or so for entrees and $12 for apps 

Shoutout to the Fried Chicken at the Commodore

Crossposted from ViewingNYC

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Had to borrow a pic from Yelp since I probably didn’t take a pic latest visit bc I had chicken all over my hands.

I recently ate at the Commodore again, which is known for their fried chicken, which is the best I’ve ever had. And I have eaten a lot of fried chicken. More than people should. They recently re-did their interior a bit that amps up kind of a 70s cruise line feel featuring fruity throughback drinks like pina coladas. Honestly, this place really doesn’t seem like it’d have good food, but it’s so awesome. This time I had the fried fish and grits, which makes me think twice next time about whether I should order the fried chicken or that, but I’ll probably be a glutton and get both.

First, the fried chicken at The Commodore is the best I’ve had in NYC. I keep coming back here and swear I’ll order another main dish, but I just can’t. The order comes with four generous pieces of fried chicken goodness and three mini-biscuits. It also comes with a helping of vinegar-based hot sauces that taste homemade, which complements rather than smothers the taste of the very crispy chicken. The chicken skin somehow has this twice-fried quality and volume that I can’t quite explain, yet devour against my better judgment knowing about the adverse health effects. An extra piece of crispy peppery chicken skin literally hangs off each piece like a bonus addition to the perfectly tender meat. The biscuits also come with a honey butter that tastes like it was made from scratch. Perfect.

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Faz Bakery in Danville for Persian Cookies

Necessary shoutout to Faz Bakery in Danville, CA for their Persian style cookies, so good with rich flavors of saffron. A friend and I just happened on this place after leaving a baby shower in a city neither of us leave near or really go to, thankfully Faz Bakery and Coffee Bar are an awesome Bay Area chain!

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The Shirini Diamond, Shirini Saffron Rose, and Shirini Chickpea. Get them all.

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