EDITOR’S NOTEBOOK: I love NY

Featured photo: Sam and I on the Brooklyn Bridge in NYC in July 2024.

I’ve always loved New York.

As an Asian kid who grew up in the South, New York City was always the beacon of possibilities. Where Greensboro lacked any Asian restaurants, much less any Japanese fare, New York had dozens, hundreds of options available at just a train ride away.

Where Greensboro lacked faces that looked like mine or language that sounded like the one that spelled my name, New York had hundreds that reflected the various ethnicities within its boundaries.

And it’s still that way.

The first time I had yakitori in the US, I’m pretty sure it was in New York. I had had it in Japan of course, but it’s hard to come by still around here unless you trek to Atlanta or DC. But in New York, there was — is — a little shotgun style restaurant with pictures of food plastered on the walls and quick talking chefs filled with the scent of grilled meat on rotating skewers. It was heaven.

I know it’s not the place for everyone. It’s loud. It’s stinky. It’s expensive and did I mention it’s gross? The smell of halal meat from the corner stall mixes with the stench of urine on almost every block. It’s not a particularly nice place, but it is one-of-a-kind.

I take pride in being born in New York City. I always make sure to tell people that I didn’t spend any significant time there — my family moved to Charleston by the time I was like 2 or 3 — but it’s still my birthplace. And with every trip back, I feel even more fondness, a sense of kinship for the city.

It’s truly the only place in the world where I think you can find any cuisine, any kind of art, any kind of music you’re looking for on one island. And how could that not be a beautiful thing?

So yeah, I don’t mind the piss and the pigeons, because to me, New York has always welcomed me with open arms. And I can’t wait to go back.