Midtown Houston Back Then

It was an enjoyable quick read of Bryan Washington's short story titled 'Last Coffeehouse on Travis', published in The New Yorker on September 8, 2024. 

The narrator was going through a rough patch in his life. He just broke up with his boyfriend, and moved in temporarily with his Aunt's friend, a woman named Margo and her young son Walter. He lives rent-free this summer but 'works' at Margo's coffeeshop in Midtown Houston before it was all gentrified, high-rise condominiums move in, and property prices skyrocketed. 

The author showed us a bit of the queer community in Houston, and how the city was in the 1990s till it slowly gentrified in the 2000s. Many young people moved into the community and had more children, and along with a whole slew of exciting F&B development, there was a vibrant nightlife too. Likewise, the narrator was also considering whether to stay.

It was a tiny coffee shop, really. Nothing important. If you blew too hard, you could wipe it clean off the map. But it was something to the people who spent time there: a place to go. Now I know how important this is. 

Even then, in the back of my head, I knew that things couldn’t continue like this. So easily. But I still tried allowing myself to wonder if it could be possible.

The narrator was relegated to cleaning the shop and serving customers and learning who the regulars are before being allowed to finally make coffee. He wondered if he could and would stay on in this town, doing this for a long time to come. He also hooked up with someone in town for a bit to look after his ill father. 

Then we see Garette, Walter's father. Margo and Garette are on the brink of divorce, but the latter still co-owns the house, of which the narrator now stays in. Juxtapose that relationship with the burgeoning one that the narrator has with Ken, and we have a reason for everyone to stay in town after summer ends. 

I grinned mid-way through because randomly, the writer threw in the characters watching a television drama titled 'Crash Landing on You' (2019) and Hyun Bin was on a motorbike before flinging it at an oncoming truck, and an explosion ensued. And damn. I know that scene. 

This is a new-to-me author, so I went to have a read about how and why this odd scene might have popped up. As if K-drama is so popular in mid-town Houston in 2019/2020! Okaaaaay, while the author grew up in Houston, he spent a lot of time in Osaka, Japan. In an interview, the author said that he is inspired by Japanese culture and books as well. He said, 

This story is heavily indebted to Banana Yoshimoto’s “Moshi Moshi,” Nao-Cola Yamazaki’s “Dad, I Love You,” Naoko Ogigami’s film “Kamome Diner,” and also the television series “Would You Like a Cup of Coffee?”—four narratives where relatively quotidian scenarios are heightened, and given deep emotionality, by their specificity, and the structural flexibility their storytellers utilize. I’m always amazed by narratives whose primary antagonist is the passage of time—this particular story’s characters certainly have their interpersonal challenges, but finding ways to navigate them in communal spaces (homes, workplaces, third places) creates pockets to play with character progression and change that aren’t too demanding for the reader to track, while also leaving space for complexity, because the parameters presented are relatively straightforward.

A challenge I’ve faced writing narratives set in Houston is trying to acknowledge the city’s nuances (or at least the ones I’m privy to) while not giving way to stock narrative arcs. Attempting to capture even a microcosm of that on the page is challenging enough. But I’ve been more outside Texas than not over the past half decade—mostly in Tokyo, lately—so a number of things that may have struck me as routine by way of immersion—for better (the city’s diversity; its many different layers of living; how each of these layers manages to coexist with one another; the earnestness) and worse (a headache-inducing governmental infrastructure; the nightmare of living in a car-centric city, particularly if you’re unhoused or disabled or otherwise othered by the state; the nightmare of navigating American health care in Texas; the earnestness)—have been further magnified when I’m back in town. That freshness is useful, narratively, for me. 

Also, music helps. I was listening to a lot of Fishmans and Lee Kang Seung 이강승 while drafting this one, and then Rei Harakami and Clairo through edits.

Sashimi, Sushi & Sake with E!

E hopped by in town for a week, and she asked if I could join V and her for dinner. In the end, V has to head out of town and couldn't come. So E and I were wondering if we should shift the meet date or keep to it. In the end, we decided to still have dinner, and keep it easy. I'm certainly bound by a 10.30pm curfew since I have to either get home to the dog or get her home for her supper.

E was so kind to accommodate Choya at this dinner. I must point out how lovely the friends are, because in accommodating, they're signing up to be broiled in this heat and humidity. This Japanese restaurant that we decided on (that will remain unnamed) sweetly takes Choya outdoors, but it doesn't have fans. In this unstirring heat, even in the evenings, it's unbearable. I brought a neck fan for myself, and a table fan for E. That forced tiny breeze really made dinner so much more bearable.  

E didn't need any carbs, so we skipped the fried rice and udon and such. It was sashimi for her, and sushi for me. We talked and talked and decided we didn't need more food. It was good to see E, catch up about life and how her past few months have been, and what else she's going to be doing. 

I giggled a little because E was very busy talking, and I managed to scam her into finishing off most of sashimi, pork jowl and all of the Miyazaki A5 wagyu beef. Of course I didn't starve — I had the negitoro sushi I wanted, and the sushi. Heh! I might have also scammed her into finishing the second 720ml bottle of sake by herself. 

You Only Have Tofu!

It's not as if I'm so into cooking reality shows. But I watched this one episode that almost had me gagging. No wonder they call it 'Infinite Cooking Hell', otherwise known as 'Round 5, the Tofu Challenge'. The eight chefs only had tofu as the main dish and literally had to cook it till they make it — to earn a spot in the Finals, of which Napoli Matfia/ Kwon Seong-jun already had a spot.  

OMG. If I had to do that, I'd be so f^&*ing done with tofu and never want to go near it again for the next year or so. Luckily I'm just a viewer. At least I know what else I can do with tofu besides the usual ways to eat them. Honestly, I like it as 'pidan tofu' or silken tofu with century egg. LOL 

I rooted for no one, and simply checked out the show's production standards, script and creative direction and how they adapted to audience reactions, or not. I certainly don't watch enough cooking reality shows to judge its entertainment value. After watching the whole thing, I still have no opinions if this is as good as Iron Chef or Master Chef, as this is uniquely Korean. None of them hold my interest that much.

When I'm not a cook or someone who's interested in cooking as a hobby, I'm not and never will be inspired to cook or replicate any dish from even a fun cooking show. All I could think of is, who's going to do the washing up? Come on, if you have a helper washing up after you cook, that's certainly going to make the whole thing a breeze each time you experiment with dishes or do a dependable meal. 

Does this slight dread of cleaning up explain why I'm also not keen to host any sort of dinner parties at home? Even if we get takeout, I'm not really keen to host more than two pax because I'll have to stay up till 2am after guests leave at 11pm. This isn't a college dorm or a flat I'm renting that I don't care about. I'm not leaving dishes piled up in the sink or food bits on the floor for tomorrow's chores. So if I do host, it's probably like four times a year out of necessity. It's not as if it's a golden ticket to my small flat. Hahahahah. 

What I do know is, at the end of this show, it doesn't make me want to eat Korean food any more than I currently do, or try Korean-Chinese food or anything that deep fried. I'm quite certain that I have no interest in gochujang, doenjang or ganjang. In fact, I'm more keen on the pasta dishes! Oof. Say, a simple aglio e olio. 

I was pleased to see white bibimbap (baekhwaban) chosen by chef-owner of Euljiro Boseok — Chef Cho Seo Hyeong. She went to Tongyeong and was surprised to see that the southern port city doesn't use gochujang in their bibimbap. I love white bibimbap and have eaten it loads when I was in the country. Although it's hard to find it in Singapore, sometimes it's annoying to have even Koreans tell me there isn't a bibimbap that doesn't use gochujang. At least people know that there is white kimchi (baek kimchi).

Tofu Crème Brûlée, anyone?