October 5th, 2011 by Dawn Becker

It’s not easy to know all the protocols of other cultures and even if you do sometimes you just forget to follow them. I’ve made a few memorable flubs in past years. I remember one night baking several Quiche Lorraine tarts for the school day care only to discover that they were never served. Apparently, ham is a banned substance as some kids aren’t allowed to have pork for religious reasons. Of course once they said this I got it, but I definitely wasn’t thinking this when I was pouring cheesy ham quiche fillings into tiny tart tins well into the wee hours. I was just thinking finished!! The caregivers took them home so some tummies did luck out. I feel bad for those pork-less kids. But I did learn a valuable lesson and that is don’t bother making treats for school in this environment of pork-offended, nut-less, gluten-free, lactose-intolerant diets.

Vegetarians and I don’t really mix either but I will tolerate their idiosyncrasies as long as they don’t mind me gnawing on some ribs or sucking the marrow out of a bone. And ever since the quiche debacle, I’ve been pretty good with kiddie birthday parties, remembering to order cheese pizzas for the veg heads. (Most little kids don’t like green stuff on their pizza so cheese is really the only way to go. They can go home and have a balanced meal later.)

I think my most embarrassing faux pas was at Julian’s Grade 6 graduation last year. We still talk about it and I cringe whenever anyone brings it up. I figure exposure therapy will help me get over this so I’m sharing it here. It was an emotional ceremony for me. Julian had won an award for outstanding academic achievement and I was more than the proud mom. I also knew that these would be the last days he would get to hang out with this wonderful group of friends, as he was the only one accepted to his new school.

After the final performance, a choir recital of “To Sir With Love” suggested by another student’s dad, Mohammed, affectionately called “Mo” by the kids in the school, I turned to him and gave him a hug. Arms clenched by his side and back stiffening, I only realized then that I was hugging a devout Muslim. Eek! I released my embrace as gracefully and quickly as I could and Mo, ever the gentleman, laughed it off however ill at ease. His lovely wife donning the traditional head scarf/veil, darted her eyes at me askance. Imagine me shrinking. I wished I could have then.

Sadly this will be what I think of most when recalling that beautiful graduation ceremony and I will surely be the butt of “remember when” jokes for years to come with my boys. I’ll be signing up for cultural sensitivity lessons any day now.

June 9th, 2011 by Dawn Becker

I have to apologize to my wonderful and loyal readers for being remiss in posting in May. And June is now flying by fast. My work as a conference planner has kept me ridiculously busy these past weeks and I have to reveal that I took a much necessary and rejuvenating trip to Cuba last month.

If anyone has heard anything disparaging about Cuba, where I went was not a foodie destination, and was never meant to be one. Thus not much reporting there. It was completely about renewal and I had the luxury of spending a week with a colleague who has now become a very good friend.

After that, a trip to Ottawa at the end of May revealed another new friendship that will surely prove to be a lifelong one, at least if I have anything to do with it. I will admit a tearful goodbye at the train station made for a very European-summer-vacation departure. All the tears on my part if I am to be true. Don’t you ever wish you could combine your travel friends with your day-to-day friends in one lovely group and keep them all close. But then I suppose that changes the parameters of travel friendship.

I suppose what I’m saying is that time has passed in good measure. However the sad the cost of this time away, making these amazing personal connections, is that I haven’t been able to share my latest food and culture explorations. Trust that those have never stopped and I have missed sharing. I plan to compensate with a good series of follow up posts… after the PROFIT 200 CEO Summit next week.

I have many interesting places in Toronto to write about including a review of Khao San Road at 326 Adelaide Street West and the Ontario Spring Water Sake Company in the Distillery. So stay tuned because BananaViews will keep you entertained (with my personal antics) and informed (based on my personal opinions… as it always has been). Much love and “soon come” – the latter being a Jamaican term I picked up during a conference I worked at in Ocho Rios, which essentially means “wait patiently and don’t fret because all will be well dear one and no amount of jumping up and down is going to change that you are waiting for 20 boxes that cleared customs last week so stop asking me”.

April 12th, 2011 by Dawn Becker

I recently read an article by Jan Wong in the April 2011 issue of Toronto Life magazine, entitled "Not Asian enough: Jan Wong on the phenomenon of ‘Tiger Mom’ parenting”. While I usually don’t agree with Jan Wong’s often contentious opinions in her articles, I did find this month’s column intriguing.

Some of my Canadian friends don’t understand how cultural duality plays into my Chinese-Canadian life. Most of the time it seemingly doesn’t. While I agree that as a Canadian-born Chinese I have all the benefits of every other Canadian born in this country, visibly I could still be identified as Asian, and therefore have experienced my share of discrimination (in my youth) and objectification (when I was a budding adult). Admittedly, growing up in the 80s, in the quiet suburban town we know as Pickering, in an elementary school with only five other Asian kids, one of whom was my sister, things were very different from today.

Culturally speaking there are definitely distinctions. For example, at the end of my Mandarin class – yes I am finally taking Mandarin lessons to add to my food/shopping Cantonese, proving that it’s never too late to learn a new language – my teacher sent me away shouting "Work hard!", while I simultaneously shouted back at her “Don’t work too hard.” We both had a laugh as we realized this was a perfect example of Western versus Eastern work philosophies.

When I find myself in an all-Chinese scenario, say a family reunion or wedding, there’s always the comment that “it’s such a shame that I don’t read or write Chinese”. It’s true. I do have language envy. My cousin, Casey, was brought up in a family where Cantonese was spoken daily, where the culture was instilled unconsciously, in an environment where you were proud to be Chinese. So I struggle to find myself not being Chinese enough and being Chinese in a Western society. I was delighted to read Jane Leung’s article Tired of not being ‘Chinese enough’ where she shares similar opinions to my own. And better yet, she refers to herself as being a banana too where some of my critics raised an eyebrow as to whether that was derogatory or not. I commented about that in my first post.

Today, I couldn’t be prouder to be both Chinese and Canadian. And when the opportunity presents itself, I dive right into learning what I can about other cultures attempting to see what their lives look like through their unique cultural lens.

June 26th, 2010 by Dawn Becker

The “economic downturn” became tangible to me last year when half of my regular clients were unable to pull together the funding and sponsorship dollars to host some of their regular annual events. I went into rethink mode about the event management company that I had been running for more than a decade, BPL Events, and I made the decision to stay true to the work I enjoy so much.

A year later, things have turned around completely. The networking and business development time I invested in the quieter part of last year has resulted in a bursting schedule of events that’s leading into 2012. And I couldn’t be happier with all of the new and returning opportunities.

During the midst of the decline last year, I decided to start BananaViews as an outlet for my secondary passions – all things food and how cultural upbringing impacts our sensibilities and behaviours.

With the idea to eventually draw more readers to my personal blog and to learn more about how larger blogging sites work, I also decided to write restaurant reviews for blogTO. It was a great learning experience and I have to say that I found Tim Shore, founder of blogTO, to be a patient, friendly guide. And it was an interesting experience to observe the miscellaneous comments from readers many of which were random, vehement, or completely off topic. This was a good opportunity to learn about making your opinions public and committing them to words and having to distance yourself afterwards, or not.

Despite these positive experiences, with the emergence of so many new and exciting event contracts, conferences and fundraisers, that I needed to put my full attention to I had to make a decision about writing reviews for blogTO – there are only so many hours in a day. I couldn’t grapple with the idea of doing a mediocre job and the pressure to keep up with a weekly review was simply stressing me out. This had nothing to do with Tim’s expectations as I found him to be understanding. Running a business myself, feeling like you’re letting someone else down really sucks. The end result, I had to drop blogTO.

After advising Tim, I was more than pleased when he invited me to come back to write for him again once my schedule settles itself out. I am thinking about it. So it’s so long but not goodbye blogTO. Here is my last blogTO review (for now) on Pearl Harbourfront. Thanks again to blogTO and Tim Shore for making me feel so welcome to the team.

May 30th, 2010 by Dawn Becker

Living in Toronto for the last 25 years I’ve never made the Snowbird’s trip down to Florida. Florida is a popular haven for Canadians, especially those in Toronto who suffer from the harsh winter months and depressing lack of vitamin D, needing to regenerate and rejuvenate. But I’m allergic (not literally) to bland, generic food, buffets of any sort, watered down drinks and large flying insects like Palmetto bugs. I had much reason not to be interested in Florida.

Florida happens to be the home state of my friend and colleague, Daniel Chimento. He was born and raised in Orlando, the home of the mouse, that being Mickey and Disney World. My version of how Daniel got me to book is shortened as this:

Daniel: “We should go to Florida together. It would be fun.”

Me: Sipping on my third glass of straight Grey Goose on the rocks. “Sure.”

Daniel, a few minutes later: “Can I have your credit card?”

Me: “Sure. Can I have another drink?”

Daniel: “Sure.”

Next day, I check my email and see BMO has sent me a message saying that I’ve activated my online security code. I called them rather indignant and insisted that I did not do any such thing. “Perhaps, ma’am you booked a trip on-line?”. Hmm?

And that’s how I ended up here in Florida, and in Orlando of all places. To me, as an entrepreneur, vacations are like having children. There’s never a good time so you just have to do it. Everyone deserves to recharge their batteries. Unfortunately for me, Daniel (pictured below) booked us two weeks out from my next event, the PROFIT 100 CEO Summit, so this has become a working vacation. Fine. With wifi access in most places plus my trusty BlackBerry, I’m all set to stay connected on the beach. My main concerns right now are whether I’ll get too much sand in my netbook and will my cabana boy remember to refill my margarita glass?

There is an upside to visiting a place where your friend knows the local scene and still has friends and family there. You get to meet a lot of people, like my new friend Ronald pictured below! Plus you can stay with family gratis, saving valuable hotel dollars.

After three ridiculous days working from morning till midnight prior to leaving, making sure that I’ve got all of my clients covered, Daniel and I get a ride to the airport from our friend, Jay Deakin. Jay (pictured below) is one of the most down to earth, relaxed, easy going, gracious and charming Brits you’ll ever meet… except when he’s driving and then he turns into a rage-infused homicidal manic. When he’s pumping gas, he’s annoyed. When he’s changing lanes, he’s annoyed. When he’s passing cars, he’s annoyed. When he’s tailgating, he’s annoyed. I’m sure you get the picture. And by no means does this mean that I am not grateful for the ride. But I am even happier that Jay lives another day to drive again.

We arrive in Orlando an hour late, tired, and slightly tipsy from Bloody Caesers, knowing that we won’t be putting our lips to Clamato juice as easily in the U.S. Clamato is the main ingredient in a Caesar, a Canadian anomaly, versus the popular Bloody Mary’s that you’ll find throughout the States. Their loss.End up eating at some chain place, the Ale House, by the airport. First mistake? Ordering oysters. When asked what kind of oysters they have, the server says, “Raw or steamed”. I meant what variety, what kind of oysters are they? “No variety just raw or steamed.” I ate one and immediately felt queasy. I have a delicate stomach. Delicate when it comes to crap. We had $3.50 pints that tasted like watered down pee. Snow crab legs, clam chowder, and prime rib down the hatch. Our total bill $50 plus tip.

Later, on our journey to Jen’s house, Daniel’s unrelated sister of sorts, which will be the first stop for accommodations he’s set up, I have to ask Daniel to pull over. I have the pleasure of advising you that I left my mark or rather the oyster’s mark on a side road in Florida.

Oh, but the revelry doesn’t stop there. We finally arrive at Jen’s house a little after 1AM. After greetings, Steve, her husband shows us the guest room. Daniel showers. I lie down and start coughing. I instantly know where this is going. Those cute little dogs and that cat hiding under the chair are getting to me. I haven’t been around animals in ages, unless you count Daniel, but I’m not allergic to him. I start to wheeze and tell Daniel I’m going to sleep in the car. Orlando is humid my friends. And it’s humid in the car, normally my respite when the indoors, like mouldy cottages, get bad. I’m short enough to find comfort sleeping in the front seat but not today. I am wheezing like a banshee and I text message Daniel that we have to go to emerg. He just took a sleeping pill but we take the risk and drive 15 minutes down to the Saint Cloud hospital.

Did you know there is no medical coverage in the US? And thinking that I’m healthy and we’ll be staying with family doing nothing riskier than beach hopping I decline the $40 medical coverage. One asthma treatment and $220 later – I consider that a small price to pay to breathe – and a prescription for a week’s worth of prednisone, a heavy duty steroid that allows me to not die the rest of this week, I walk out of the ER around 6AM. We can’t go back to the cat house. Which the nurse advised me means a brothel or house of sin in Florida. But I’m not allergic to whores either so that would actually have been better for me.

And worse, Daniel, the fab event planner that he is, has our schedule jam packed including getting free passes to Disney World the next day to hang out with his mom, Wanda and twin brother, David. We need to be at Wanda’s house by 8:45AM to meet the free pass guy. And if you’ve ever been to Disney World, you’ll realize that an all park pass for four can run you about $800. There was no missing this meeting.

Exhausted, we decide to go to Daniel’s mom’s. She has two dogs too and it’s 6AM. Too early to wake her. So we park in the driveway to sleep for an hour. Apparently during that time Daniel’s mom, Wanda, woke up to walk the dogs, saw the car, poked a flashlight in and I’m only guessing here but I think she would probably have said WTF? Anyways, that was more or less Day One. Well the first 9 hours anyways. Stay tuned for more highlights from Florida.

April 19th, 2010 by Dawn Becker

Creating a new heading under Bits And Bites, this post consists of a short summary of things I’ve been doing, perusing and pondering.

Blogging About Food In Toronto

I recently started doing some restaurant reviews for blogTO — three to date on Chick-N-Joy, Linda by Salad King and just this week, Family Dumpling House. Writing for someone else is not as easy as writing for yourself. I’ve learned quite a few things already from the blogTO editor and also from the readers’ remarks, both positive and negative. It’s an opportunity to learn more about what flies and what doesn’t and I’m open to seeing how this turns out.

A few hiccups along the way have already occurred with things happening out of my control, say a by-line on an announcement that I didn’t write, and one unhappy restaurant owner, which for the most part is par for the course. And if I am willing to critique a restaurant I must in turn be willing to expose myself to the swath of comments and criticisms about what I say. I believe that a thicker skin will be needed with everyone being free and entitled to make a remark or better yet, a compliment. That is part of putting yourself out there publicly. Not everyone has to like my work… but of course, it would be nice.

In the end, I hope writing for blogTO will have the added benefit of exposing BananaViews to more readers. As much fun as it is having the opportunity to express myself here, it’s even better knowing that you’re out there. And thanks for that.

Jealous of Judith Jones

I just read The Tenth Muse by Judith Jones and I’ve been thinking about what a great life she’s had working with some of the most critically-acclaimed chefs and cookbook writers around, most famously Julia Child, Marcella Hazan, Marion Cunningham and Lidia Bastianich to name a few. It’s written so sincerely and she tells about her encounters managing each of these “greats” so graciously. Each page flows and you can easily devour this book in an instant.

Even better, she also devotes the last quarter of her book to recipes including a section called Cooking For One which looks like a prelude to her recent book The Pleasures Of Cooking For One. I am looking forward to reading The Pleasures Of Cooking For One but have delayed it out of sentimental reasons. The idea of one day cooking for one compared to my busy household now sort of breaks my heart. Yet surely the intention of her book is to contrast just that and is exactly the reason why I should read it.

Martin Turns Thirty

My friends throw fabulous parties and Saturday we celebrated Martin’s 30th birthday party which included a mash of Martin’s social circles. Martin (pictured left) decided to have a private party at PM Gallery owned by Powell MacDougall and the wife of our friend, Geoffrey who helped to host the night with Powell catering in the kitchen.

Powell’s cooking is a side benefit if you’re lucky enough to host a reception in her gallery, surrounded by interesting (and very buyable) art. Martin loves his wine and knows quite a thing or two about it and in combination with Powell’s treats this was a tasty night. He served us a refreshing bubbly, Codorniu Pinot Noir Rose Brut Cava, which was bright and light on the palate with nice berry notes. He also served a smash hit rioja that I can’t remember the name of, likely due to having too many of them. Must ask Martin to send me the wine list.

Rowena and Marcus brought Baby Lennon so we could meet him in person. I posted about the big Philippine-style baby shower a while back and here he is.Overall, a fantastic night of frivolity. So as a reminder of the revelry, here are some shots of the party. Note that I didn’t bring my DSLR which would have produced crisper photos but that’s how things go when you’re decked out in heels with a small purse. Happy Birthday Martin!

April 7th, 2010 by Dawn Becker

I’m not a huge proponent of the Dr. Phil show but it happens to be timely as one of the things I’ve been thinking about lately: Fat vs. Thin. The episode is called “The Ultimate FAT Debate”. Those of you who really know me understand that I have been living with the FAT debate for pretty much all of my life. My family is predominantly thin, at least on my mother’s side. And though I’m over blaming her, my mother still has trouble not reminding me of my fabulously flabby self. If you have a look at my current driver’s licence, which I will show you in a fit of drunken bravado, you can see that in the past year or two I was not at my healthiest, slimmest, sexiest, fantastic self. I personally believe that my body is meant to be a little more “meaty” than my sister(s)* because I would say that I have a more athletic build, matched by my verve for team sports, than either of them. Bigger bones right?

Now if you see me, you would wonder how FAT is fat? Truthfully I carry a few extra pounds but I am not obese and really, I no longer see myself as being fat. Actually I’m just old (LOL) and those few pounds have actually shed lately due to some good decisions that involved letting go of 175 lbs of extra dead weight (an incompatible boyfriend that I didn’t realize I was actually miserable with, and with that day to day feeling of not being happy, well you know, it gets fixed and filled in different ways and mine was to eat at all hours of the night and drink excessive amounts of high calorie wine).

And now, well I’m not exactly model skinny but I no longer live with a fat mentality. Discovering I had a years long consistent tummy problem (acid reflux) which meant that I had to reduce the amount of food intake at any sitting, leaving me with as many sittings as I wanted, resulted in a great deal of relief. So I eat as many times as I want but I’m a little more aware of the portion size. Buffet is not my way but tapas over many hours works well for me. A little wisdom I learned that has resulted in a slightly thinner me.

However, I am still about the same physical weight. Yes, I will tell you. 128 lbs more or less depending on the time of the month. It’s not excessive but the weight now sits differently on my body and I’m glad that I’m aware of all of it.

What really shocked me the other day was at the check out at Price Chopper. I was in line behind a lovely woman who helped me with my over-abundance of groceries. I often think, WOW! I’m carrying my weight in food every time I do grocery shopping, and that’s a lot, since I love to cook and want fresh daily.

I found myself looking at this lovely woman’s groceries in the check out lane and I found myself thinking the world is a little unfair. She was obese. Not a few pounds extra but the kind of person that had to shimmy to get through the check out lane. I reflected on my own grocery choices and compared mine to hers and realized that her choices were much healthier than mine. She had a loaf of whole grain bread, a tub of low fat plain yogurt, a variety of fresh vegetables, cans of light flaked tuna, sardines (very calcium rich), and as a splurge one lonely box of Kraft Dinner spirals. Compare that to my check out items which included a pound of peameal, a package of beautifully fatty pancetta, a giant block of old cheddar, four bone-in pork chops (yes, it was a pork day), full fat fruit-on-the-bottom yogurt and some deli meat. Sure I had more fresh veg than she did and I am buying for a family of three but I think you can understand that I was slightly embarrassed by my food choices as she helped me to load up my groceries from my overwhelming arm-load.

It left me wondering how a simple choice of smaller portion sizes has made a relatively quick effect on my body, leaving me feeling and looking lighter (though the pounds are the same). And I wonder how many cans of tuna and low fat yogurt my lovely friend will have to bear through in order to achieve the same. I want to say be happy and do what you want, but a part of being happy is also feeling good about yourself. So instead of thinking how sad it is not to be able to eat everything you want, I am thinking how great it is that she is eating consciously and it reminds me to stay on course. Eat consciously, love your life, be healthy and live long in joy.

*My younger sister, Joy, passed away a few years ago from a mental illness called Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). The drugs involved in sustaining and helping her to maintain a sense of normalcy in our society created a swing of weight issues from anorexia to her unusual heftiness before she died. It was a strange side effect of the medication that caused a great deal of weight gain to my normally svelte little sis, who was highly affected by her visible and conscious self, which became the saddest part of observing her situation. Imagine how plagued you would feel if the good-for-you medications made you gain an unnerving 20 or 30 lbs, when dealing with so many other daily mental health issues? Would you stay on your meds if that was the result? When your issues were a majority about self-esteem and fitting in and feeling good? Was it a lost cause? Not for Joy. She handled it as best she could and at the end there were outside sources that got the better of her. We love you Joy with every breath and bite we take.

January 16th, 2010 by Dawn Becker

I regularly use the Maple Leaf Taxi company. When I call them, they keep track of my address so I don’t have to tell them where to come get me. They’re almost always waiting for me when I get to the lobby. And the eclectic group of drivers that I’ve met so far are friendly and polite.  

I have an ongoing relationship now with a cab driver named Gary. Actually he has a relationship with me. Whenever he sees me he continues where he left off in his last conversation, or should I say tirade, about his divorce, his ex-wife and his custody battle for his kids. It’s like a Pakistani soap opera. And I swear he doesn’t realize it’s been three days since I saw him last. He just keeps going ahead with his story without missing a beat. In fact, the last time he started into it through his window, before I even got in the car.

Gary is hilarious. He talks with his hands like a classic movie mobster, which can be a bit unnerving since he’s driving the cab. He also likes to look at me when he’s deep into a rant, which again is a bit unnerving since I’m in the back seat… and he’s driving the cab. I’m not really worried though. Gary’s a pro.

Gary speaks in a rapid-fire style with a sharp staccato rhythm reminiscent of an East Asian auctioneer, if you can imagine that. He is very animated and deeply passionate about the subject of his ex-wife. The last time I called Maple Leaf Taxi I was on my way to Guu to meet Richard. Guu is so popular right now that a line-up is guaranteed so I wanted to go early to get in the queue. And wouldn’t you know it, the driver I get is Gary, so I know I’m in for the ride of a lifetime. It’s a good start to the night.

He says “Dawn, oh I have honey troubles”. And because I’m consumed by food thoughts these days I think that we’re going to be talking about something new, something food, and my ears perk up. “Oh, not honey food, honey babe problems,” Gary says. His situation actually sounds tragic, almost complete denial of access to his two children, a court system that’s slow to take action, and an ex-wife who’s embittered. Gary has a new wife in Pakistan… and two other children, she claims. Gary tells me only one is his. I can’t help but laugh out loud.

The saga continues. I look forward to my next encounter with Gary. I just hope he survives his ex-wife.

January 7th, 2010 by Dawn Becker

“Surname?” said the ominous clerk’s voice on the phone.

“Wong” I said.

“Mother’s maiden name?” said the voice.

“Wong” I said.

“No your mother’s last name before she got married” said the voice.

“Wong” I said.

And that would be the beginning of frustration on both our parts. The clerk’s impatience growing while I defended my intellect. Yes, my mother and father both have the same last name. They are both Wongs but they are not related. We are not hillbillies.

In Chinese, the characters that represent the surname Wong have two different looks and different definitions entirely.

The character above represents the Wong on my father’s side. It means “king”.

 This Wong is from my mother’s side and means “yellow”. In Chinese custom, yellow is a very positive colour representing gold and the sun and was often favoured by royalty. We are, afterall, all yellow fellows.

I’m sure you will believe me when I tell you that I hated my full name growing up: Dawn Wong. Relentless jokes about being the legendary Spanish lover, Don Juan, or dan huang which means egg yolk in Chinese. Or my favourite childhood jingle:

“Dawn, Dawn, leprechaun. Went to school with nothing on.”

Children are cruel.

So even after my divorce I kept my married name. People graciously gave me excuses like how nice it was for me to keep my married name so my boys would have comfort in having the same last name as mine. Who were they kidding? I kept my married name for completely selfish reasons. It has a better ring to it.