There would always be something to munch on. Or, if we were lucky, a bright pink box filled with dim sum that Mom brought home on those special days when she had lunch with her sisters and their mother my grandmother at their favorite restaurant in Honolulu. I especially liked the soft steamed buns filled with sweet roast pork, any dumpling ā fried, boiled or steamed ā and custard tarts.
Featuring some of our favorite tales of searching for love in Southern California, curated from the beloved L. Affairs column. On weekends, Mom orchestrated dim sum get-togethers with the aunts, uncles, cousins and anyone else who happened to be visiting from the mainland, usually extended family from California.
After I graduated college and moved to Los Angeles to pursue a career in teaching, my pursuit of dim sum was stalled. And I was busy and broke. After getting my teaching credentials, I was hired to teach elementary school in Pasadena.
There was so much that a young, inexperienced teacher had to learn and do. I gravitated toward cheap-and-easy takeout meals and cafeteria lunches. I threw myself into my job. And I like to think I succeeded. I taught all different grades, but I specialized in the arts.
I helped my students write stories, paint and put on plays. I was often invited to their homes to share delicious meals. I was happy. I would often return to Honolulu for the summers and get my fill of dim sum from new restaurants that Mom had discovered. Affairs, the column dedicated to the ups and downs of the search for love in Southern California.
