Issue 10: Tapas

Our cooking class on Thursday took place at a partner’s house in the hills of Redwood City. And they’re not kidding when they call them hills. My ride was a little aggressive on the turns, and I was white-knuckled in the back seat. The organizers, a catering company that specializes in team-building, decided we would have a tapas party. (Cue the laughter about what that sounds like.) We all grabbed a glass of wine and then divided into groups. I was on the angel-food and strawberry brochettes (drizzled with chocolate ganache and served with crème fraiche.) Other groups made clams with pancetta, lamb samosas, coconut-crusted scallops, bruschetta, and spicy cumin dip. Very, very yummy. I miss cooking and entertaining. Yet another casualty of law school. I have a growing list of things I enjoy that I’m hoping to get back into once I have more time (ha ha.)

My family has friends out here from my dad’s days at Stanford. I went to Uncle Merritt and Auntie Anka’s house for a barbecue. (Note: not my actual aunt and uncle – ‘Indian’ aunt and uncle, meaning not related to me – but must use the title as a form of respect. I’ve been calling them that my whole life. Uncle Merritt’s nephew was there, and he, of course, didn’t use the title.) It’s interesting to talk with people who have a totally different perspective on your parents. My dad’s grad school friends make fun of his world view – it makes me feel a little better, i.e. that I’m not the only person who thinks he is crazy. I even feel like I’m getting to the point where I can find him amusing.

Uncle Merritt’s kids, Ricky and Johnny, are identical twins. I spent the evening chanting "Ricky – Red" in my head to keep them straight. (Ricky was wearing a red shirt.) Uncle David and Uncle Michael came – also identical twins. "Ricky – Red, David- Yellow." I started cracking up when I remembered that Uncle Merritt is a twin as well – his twin sister lives in Springfield, VA. So, one barbecue, 2.5 sets of twins.

The way I view old friends is largely shaped by an old photograph of my parents at their friends’, the Akiyamas’, wedding. We’re still friends with the family – I know their kids Tosh and Mas (in fact, they ended up coming to my high school.) I found that photograph while I was in high school, and I thought it was just amazing. It’s why I make such an effort to go to friends’ weddings, no matter how far. I want their kids to know me. It’s the same thing I always say – something about the friends you made at a certain critical period makes them the ones you follow through life.

My time in California is winding down, only two more weeks to go. On the one hand, I’m definitely looking forward to coming home, sleeping in my own bed, seeing my friends, and my precious Gia. To a lesser extent, I’m also excited about starting my last year of law school. I deal with the ends of things so badly… doesn’t matter how long I see it coming, doesn’t matter how excited I might be about what’s coming up. I had a similar kind of sulking fit (as many of you know) before coming out here. I’ve had mini-sulks already this summer - when a few summer associates dropped off because they were splitting their summer.