Life's Dirty 30 & Kung Pao Chicken Wontons with Sweet Chili Dipping Sauce

Do you make New Year's resolutions? You know, 'I'll work out at least 5 days a week,' 'I'll read more smart-people books,' 'I'll fly to the moon,' 'I'll stop partying like it's 1999.' Yeah, when I do that there's always a tiny voice in my head snickering, telling me, "Yeah, fat chance, sucker!"

Last year was different, though. There was all this hoopla about the world ending in 2012, so I figured that before I went up in flames, I'd make a couple of frivolous promises to myself. I mean, they do say you should live every day like it's your last, right? And since the Mayans were kind enough to do the math and precisely pinpoint when the clocks would stop ticking, I decided to keep it simple; I just wanted to have an awesome time before the apocalypse ate me alive.

Did it work out?

Absolutely!

This year, there were three big three's. I marked three decades of dawdling on this planet, my husband and I celebrated three years of marriage with the birth of our baby boy, and after three years of joblessness, I caved into the unconventional culinary career I've been contemplating since college. So yes, it's been a big, beautious year.

More than anything though, I've learned some life-altering lessons along the way. My words of wisdom might not be wow-worthy, mostly because they're obsessive observations, but reflection relaxes me, especially at end of the year. Of course, it would be kind of depressing if I only found one fun fact for every year of my existence, but I purposely kept this list current. It's not fair to curse you with my countless hours of contemplation. 

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Santa's Little Helper: Muneeze Khalid & Her Gorgeous Gingerbread Cupcakes

God, I love Christmas. The carols, the chaos, and my personal favorite, the crazy consumerism. Come on, isn't that what it's all about? The presents? And the bigger, the better, right? These days though, I'm more of a "good things come in small packages" kind of girl. 

Probably because I stopped growing at age 10.

I'm small enough to fit into a suitcase. If that sounds like a stretch, I'd like to inform you that I have tried and tested my theory. Yes, I literally curled up into my 'case and had my college roomie zip me in. Yeah, that was fun for about five seconds. Then the claustrophobia kicked in.

All in all though, being tiny can be pretty terrific. So much so, that I seek out other small people, selecting them to be a part of my secret society, simply on the basis of size. What can I say? I'm fiercely loyal to other little people. 

This year, in the spirit of good will, sharing and of course, my psychological issues with baking, I've teamed up with a petite patisserie whose stunning, gravity-defying confections leave me speechless. And you know it's a feat to shut me up.

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The Wicked Witches of Winter Weddings & Wasabi Cream Fish Cakes

A couple of years ago, attending the one millionth wedding of the season, a fuming and frustrated friend most eloquently described December in Lahore: mating season. That's right. The young and available coming out and strutting their stuff. Come on, we've all been through it. The primping, the preening and the peacocking. Who hasn't fluttered those feathers, right? And seriously, who can deny donning designer duds, downing decadent dinners and dancing till dawn, right? Right?

I fell for my other half at a winter wedding. Go figure.

Now of course, thanks to the infuriating idiots of the Punjab government, the first order of frugality is fewer festivities. That's right, in Lahore you can be fined for having fun after 10 p.m. But the real death of decadence is limiting dinners to one dish. Happy hedonism has been hijacked by the hairless, holier-than-thou hooligans!

Personally, I dread December.

I also dread November, because that's when the onslaught of invitations ensues.

You guys already know that I have a habit of hiding out, but I swear to you, sometimes partying seriously feels as painful as slowly being poisoned.  I'm awful at small talk. I'm not socially savvy enough to dance and look cool at the same time. And I can't carry a big designer bag because frankly, I look like a hobbit wearing body armor.

But nothing, and I mean nothing, about this season gives me the willies worse than the Wicked Witches of Winter Weddings.

The predator that hunts in packs, stalking its prey in the night, stealthily springing in for the kill...with vicious gossip.

Her best friends forever? Bleach, Botox and b****ing.

You know who I'm talking about, right?

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Talking Over Tea & Scones

Women talk. Go ahead, deny it, but you and I both know it's the terrible truth. This week my sister is in town and what's about to go down is not done justice by simply referring to it as "talking." We will be performing a highly cultured ritual where the females of the tribe will convene for endless chai and chatter.

When I speak, it's almost like I'm hard of hearing. I laugh even louder, but that's because I have a theory about laughter; like a sneeze, it must be loud to be truly satisfying.

Also, I talk a lot. I'm not sure if that's because I come from a family of women who love to yap or if I married into a family of one? Maybe it's because I went to college at the birthplace of the Free Speech Movement?

Really, the reasons don't matter because it boils down to something pretty simple; verbal out-pour just makes me feel a little bit lighter.

When M comes home, all the ladies in my clan instantly develop MMS (Manic Motor-Mouth Syndrome). Three generations of women sit down, lingering over bottomless cups of tea, chatting about everything from men, make-up and motherhood to saucy scandals, sob stories and psychotic staff members.

To the untrained ears of an innocent bystander, our volume and pitch can be deafening.

So how can these sessions still be so soothing? For one, I don't know of a safer setting in which to laugh, cry and generally unload. But what I love most about our heart-to-hearts is this: zero censorship, no holds barred.

Sometimes I'm purposely obnoxious. Believe me, it's totally worth it. Watching my grandmother squirm and pretend to be a prude, secretly trying to hide her amusement behind a look of damning disapproval, is absolutely priceless. It doesn't even take much. Just something casual like, "Hey Nano, wanna go have a smoke?" I don't even smoke...anymore, but you get the picture.

Here's the thing though, I'm horrible at taking advice. I'm even worse with criticism, but in my defense I have the tendency to be so harshly self-critical that sometimes my self-esteem threatens to go on strike. So when these mile-a-minute marathons start to become liberally peppered with some really *ahem* creative solutions to all my fantastical little problems, I reflexively turn into a stubborn mule, refusing to listen.

This week though, in an extremely rare occurrence, I'm willingly going to solicit someone else's opinion. Namely, you.

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Hunger & Haw Hai's KARACHI VS. LAHORE TOP 10 Contest

Ah, Karachi! The city be the sea. The land of crabs, chili chips and chaat. And good ol' Lahore. The walled wonder. A city of tikkas, tawas and tandoors. There's a fierce rivalry between two of Pakistan's most cosmopolitan cities and they just can't agree to disagree! From super-sophisticated social scenes and designer divas to spectacular scenery and of course, fabulous food, Lahore and Karachi relentlessly vie to be crowned king.

Based on your votes, Hunger & Haw will crown one city the Food Culture Capital of Pakistan 2012. Your comments decide the top 10 dishes that best define your city. I'm looking for the Top 10 Can't-Be-Missed food experiences in Karachi and Lahore. Nominate a signature dish and if you make it on to the list, you could win a Rs.5000 cash prize**!

Collect the Food Culture Crown or a Rs.5000 Cash Prize!

TO WIN THE CROWN: 

Log on to Hunger & Haw Hai's facebook page, vote for your city and make sure to share the link with your friends. The city with the most votes will be crowned the Food culture Capital of Pakistan. Don't forget to represent and rock the vote!

TO WIN THE CASH:
Nominate a signature dish for your city by commenting on any of the Karachi vs. Lahore Top 10 contest pictures. Hunger & Haw Hai wants to know which dish you think deserves the top spot. Speak up, speak out and you could win a Rs. 5000 cash prize!

TO VOTE, CLICK HERE . TO COMMENT, CLICK HERE. SHARE IT WITH YOUR BUDDIES AND SUPPORT YOUR CITY NOW!

CONTEST DETAILS:

1.** YOUR CITY CAN EITHER WIN THE CROWN OR THE CASH. CASH PRIZE WINNER WILL BE SELECTED IN A RANDOM DRAW. CASH PRIZE ONLY APPLICABLE TO PARTICIPANTS OF THE RUNNER-UP CITY WHO’S SIGNATURE DISH NOMINATION IS INCLUDED IN THE TOP 10 LIST.

2. THE CROWN WILL BE AWARDED SOLELY BASED UPON THE NUMBER OF VOTES A CITY RECEIVES. SHARE THIS LINK WITH YOUR FRIENDS, ROUND UP YOUR CITY'S TROOPS AND TAKE THE CROWN. 

3. THERE IS NO LIMIT ON THE NUMBER OF TIMES A PARTICIPANT MAY COMMENT. THE MORE YOU COMMENT, THE BETTER YOUR CHANCE OF WINNING A CASH PRIZE!

4. BE POLITE. I MEAN IT. 

5. CONTEST CLOSES DECEMBER 17, 2012 AT 12:00 AM.

Love in the Time of Tomato Soup & Grilled Cheese Sandwiches Part 2

If you haven't already, read Love in the Time of Tomato Soup & Grilled Cheese Sandwiches Part 1!

Daydreaming delights my soul.

There she stood, eyes only half open, her hand outstretched. I limply deposited one earring into her open palm.

"Where's the other one?" she mumbled. I had never been more tempted to blatantly lie. I wanted to say something casual like, "Oh man, I left it in my purse," or "I only wore one tonight. It's the latest fashion." But I know my mother. In her eyes, the only sin graver than irresponsibility is insulting her intelligence. 

And in a moment of fear and weakness, I blurted everything out. She listened, stone-faced. God, I dread that look. I just call it The Look. It's her version of a comic-book villain's super-power. One stare and you crumple to the floor in agony.

When I was done, I prepared myself for the verbal assault that was about to ensue in approximately t-5 seconds. Instead, she just turned around and disappeared into her dressing room. 

Was I off the hook? Was I actually being shown mercy? I dawdled in my delusions. 

Before I knew it, she was back and she had something in her hand.

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Love in the Time of Tomato Soup & Grilled Cheese Sandwiches Part 1

In Rome, studying the menu. 

"There's a reason we refer to "leaps of faith" - because the decision to consent to any notion of divinity is a mighty jump from the rational over to the unknowable, and I don't care how diligently scholars of every religion will try to sit you down with their stacks of books and prove to you through scripture that their faith is indeed rational; it isn't. If faith were rational, it wouldn't be - by definition - faith. Faith is belief in what you cannot see or prove or touch. Faith is walking face-first and full-speed into the dark." 

- Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabet Gilbert

My husband is traveling this week and I miss him like a fat kid misses cake. What can I say, I'm a stage-5 clinger. 

When I travel, I always pack a book, even if I don't end up reading much of it. I purposely pick a travel-tome mindless enough to skip entire chapters and still not lose the plot. I find it's fantastically useful for looking obviously antisocial on a flight. 

As utterly unsophisticated as I am, a lot of my friends are literature-snobs. For them, fiction is frivolous and I'm pretty sure they have some secret code that mandates they only read stuff published in an era before electricity, or set in an age of corsets and cravats, or written in cipher-like English.

My requisites for selecting a read? Peer pressure. Most recently, I got suckered into the Fifty Shades trap. So really, I'm a literary mongrel. For cool points, I occasionally pretend to have read and understood the profundity of books I've never even heard of, but the truth is, best-sellers are my best friends.

One girl's trash is another girl's treasure.

One of my all time favorites? Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love. Here's the gist: sad, emotionally-damaged thirty-something travels the world trying to "find herself," and love. Sounds cheesy,right? Well, before you jump to any conclusions, I'm going to ask you to take a tiny leap of faith. 

Do you have faith? Do you believe in miracles? Me? Absolutely! I'm not sure it's possible to answer yes to only one of those questions. And trust me, after what I'm about to tell you, by the end of this little chit-chat,  I'll have made a believer out of you too.

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