Hot Date in Hanoi

Tom and I did something tonight we haven't done once since we've been on this trip.

We went out on a date. It was so wonderful to connect with my husband, who has been my constant companion and teammate since we started this trip. But I didn't realize until we were having dinner this evening, that it's the first ALONE time we've had in weeks.

We've found a wonderful babysitter at the hotel. Miss Vanh. Rather stern, speaks understandable English which is different than speaking English. Insists that Max says "please," loves Molly and also takes Max of the Melia around the hotel to secret places that most guests don't even know exist, let alone see.

This afternoon, while I was feeding Molly (who, by the way, is now sucking down 4 to 5 ounces of formula like there's no tomorrow! - big shift from the 2 ounce "sips" she was taking last week), Max and Miss Vanh went on an adventure. They returned with a huge bouquet of Gerber daisies in a rainbow sherbert assortment of colors. When I asked where he got them, Max replied "from the flower room." There are always fresh arrangements around the hotel (something I take notice of daily and photograph occasionally) and darn if Max didn't get into what would perhaps be my favorite room in the building.

After Max presented the flowers to me, he did his amusing Max "thing" by jumping up and down with excitement as he showed me the different colors of the flowers. Words could not come out of his mouth fast enough.

Anyway, back to our hot date. We went to the new trendy restaurant in town called Verticale. It's a restored 3-storey merchant house that has a spice shop on the first floor (selling cinnamon bark the size of logs we would put in our fireplaces, I kid you not!!), a restaurant on the 2nd floor and a bar on the third.

Navigating the menu was close to trying to figure out what to eat at the Inn at Easton - but even gamier and muskier if that's possible. Verticale is the brainchild of French Master Chef Didier Corlue, who was the chef at the Sofitel Metropole's "Spices" restaurant for many years before branching out on his own. So here we are at this trendy new restaurant, and the menu was almost scary. It seemed everything had squid, sea urchin, sweetbreads, duck, foie gras or other hard core funkiness in it. Hence, the fusion between French and Vietnamese cooking. Nothing was simple. Like, my Mom wouldn't be able to find anything on the menu to eat.

Mind you, just before ordering - as in committing to an actual order - and after already indulging in the little "amuse" that they gave us (mango slivers to be dipped in chili powder infused salt AND chopped up bits of scallop in a dried banana slice to be dipped in the ubiquitous fish sauce, we nearly bolted. We thought of 3 or 4 other restaurants that were known entities nearby and almost gave up the game. We could just settle up, pay for our Pellegrino and beat a hasty, albeit somewhat embarrassing, retreat. But we didn't. Even though there were more hovering waitstaff than customers, we stayed and are glad in hindsight for the culinary adventure.

After four or five attempts at trying to figure out what I could possibly eat that's low fat (talk about major Lost in Translation moments!), I ordered Red Tuna which was more like tuna on a stick. A beautiful and perfumed stick, but still a stick. The juicy chunk of grilled tuna had been pierced with a long stalk of lemongrass and served on a bed of some unidentifiable but tasty Vietnamese greens. I was also served rice, that was scented with bits of star anise, in a small clay pot that reminded me of the little dishes my sister Suzy likes to serve.

Tom ordered Beef Yin Yang. Sounds rather inocuous. Presentation was fabulous but judging by the amount of food left on his plate, it wasn't a smashing success. On a white rectangular shaped plate, there was an Australian beef tenderloin, leeks and some other kind of mystery meat. Next to that was a black plate the same size and shape which had beef satays in a little clay pot, huge flakes of dried beef and then one beef springroll on top of a shot glass of sauce to accompany it. I nearly ordered this dish and am so glad I didn't. I thought it would just be a simple steak - not an array of artsy beef interpretations. The tenderloin was a huge disappointment. Really gamey and musky funky. Like, I'm not sure it was Australian beef at all. More like water buffalo from the nearby rice paddies. And the dried beef was nothing like our Beef Jerkey in the states. These dried shreds were infused with ginger and chili powder. Sort of like eating a piece of Big Red gum - that first bite where there's a flavor infusion but the flavor here only gets stronger. It was a brave effort on Tom's part.

Dessert was really what was amazing though. Mine was probably the best dessert I've ever had, anywhere. On a plain white plate, there was a tower of perfectly ripened mango rounds layered with perfectly plump raspberries and a mint, cilantro and passion fruit sauce. To die for. That in an of itself. Then, on the other side of the plate was a scoop of citronella sorbet decorated with a huge abstract design of spun sugar. Only Vietnamese influences would come up with such a delicate and fragrant combination.

Tom had some kind of fried banana pastry - sort of like a French mille feuilles but Asian - along with a martini glass full of cubed lemon cake soaked in passion fruit sauce. Very inventive and very bold. My apologies for the long meal description but it was just so unusual that if I don't record it, I will forget about it. Hence, the daily blog.

Aside from the culinary aspects of our date, it was just really nice to connect with my husband. No kids interrupting, no phone calls, no TV, no distractions. Of course, we spent most of the time talking about the kids (as in plural which is still an awkward thing for me to say), our trip, how this adoption is so different than Max's, and how we are looking forward to heading home. It's been a long, hot slog of hotel living. My son hasn't played on green grass (or any other color for that matter) in about three weeks. I enjoy visiting cities but long term city living just isn't for this girl.

It was nice to be adults. Samantha and Tom. Enjoying a meal without passing a baby back and forth or wooing Max to eat while we're at a meal (not the endless snacking he is accustommed to at home). Adult conversation. No interruptions. It was a glorious treat and something we need to remind ourselves to do more often.

I was trying to describe to Tom why this adoption feels so different to me than our first one. There are probably a host of reasons why, obvious and not so obvious, but what strikes me the most I suppose is an analogy to buying chicken. Bear with me a moment, dear reader, as I think you will be able to relate. Adopting Max was like going to the Acme and buying boneless, skinless chicken breasts. It's easy, clean, healthy, sanitary and predictable. You don't have to touch the skin or bones. No blood. No funky cuts or weird tendons. And covered in plastic. Nice and neat. Just like greeting him for the first time at the Dulles Airport after he was escorted overseas at the tender age of four months. He was a wonderful, tidy little package.

But with Molly, it's like going to the butcher where he prepares, de-feathers and skins the chicken right in front of you. Not hidden behind walls of a grocery store. But right there - visible for the whole world to see. In a way, it's very Asian - very Third World. It's also tremendously Vietnamese in which things are very out in the open for all to see. With Molly, we really got an opportunity to see where she came from and have watched her grow like wildfire in 10 days. We're more in tune with her situation as a needy wee one - so raw without family, friends or even a foster mother. She didn't get the best medical care, love or stimulation that all children deserve. There was no plastic wrapping. No neat package all wrapped up on a shelf. Rather, this is closer to the truth, more raw and more heart tugging.

For years people would say how great Tom and I are for adopting Max. Giving him opportunities to grow and thrive that he wouldn't have had had he stayed in Korea. He didn't have a family and needed one. People make it sound so altruistic and unselfish on our parts but the truth of the matter is, it was entirely selfish. Tom and I wouldn't have had a family without Max. We wouldn't be parents. We're different pieces of a puzzle that come together to make a whole picture. One wouldn't be whole without the other.

So I've always sort of shunned those comments and confessed that we wanted children. We wanted to be parents. We're not trying to save the world or aim for zero population. I mean it's great that it's helping on a global scale but that is not the driving force behind adopting for us. For some, it is and I bow to them. And I'm glad that our actions have a positive effect and benefit others. That's great. But the driving force was we wanted to be parents.

With Molly, though, it's been different. While initially this was all about having the baby girl of my dreams (the one whom I've been shopping for for 10 years now), what I'm getting in touch with here in Vietnam is that we're also offering this kid an amazing shot at life. I'm more aware of that this round than the first time. We saw what the other alternatives are for her if she didn't get adopted and it's not pretty. Don't get me wrong, the underlying force here is again to be parents but I'm more aware of also doing something good for humanity in this adoption that I didn't feel with Max. Just different. No right or wrong way. Just a different way. Both beautiful children who we love and who loves us. Families come together in so many different ways and this is just the story of how our little family came together.

Molly has thrived since we've had her. I can't believe how much she has grown into herself in the past 10 days. Every day that passes she gets stronger, shows more muscle control, eats more, laughs more and feels more relaxed with us. I think she knows that we are hers and she is ours now. She looks to us for comfort and for getting her needs met. Except she doesn't like taking Amoxicillin which she promptly spits out. (This morning was her medical at the SOS clinic and it turns out she has an ear infection in addition to a nasty case of heat rash on her face.)

Oh dear. It's almost 11:30 p.m. and we've got an early morning tomorrow. We're making the 3 hour drive to Halong Bay where we will step aboard the Emeraude, a 1920 replica of a French paddlewheel boat, for a decadent overnight and cruise. Then back to Hanoi on Sunday. We're going with our new friends who also adopted a baby girl with our group. We've gotten very friendly with them and it's been so nice to have each other as support and touchpoints. No word yet from the embassy. We're hoping for good news on Monday. If we don't get it, we'll have to change our plane ticket return, among other things.

Here are just a few random observations I wanted to make before signing off:

Funniest thing I saw today: the toilet man. Whizzing down the grand leafy boulevard next to my taxi was a man on a motorbike carrying not one, but FIVE brand new toilets. He had four balanced behind him in a tower on the seat and then another one between his legs and the handlebar.

Most curious thing I've observed recently: It's taken several taxi rides to finally figure out why people are driving around with pineapples in their car. Instead of having a cup of coffee or similar beverage in the cup holder between seats, the Vietnamese put small, unbelievably fragrant pineapples. Air freshener, I finally realized. Forget the scented pine cardboard thingies that dangle from American rearview mirrors.

Most amusing menu misspelling today: Instead of lemon meringue pie, the downstairs restaurant was serving Lemon Merring Pie. Better than porched eggs and torst.

We are becoming itchy to leave this polluted city. While it is a colonial French gem with fabulous lakes, great restaurants, a vibrant art scene, good shopping and grand boulevards, the pollution on the streets is becoming a big issue. It's like Bangkok in the 80s and 90s. There are way more motorbikes than cars and all are fueled with a very low grade of fuel. So while petrol might be affordable for the average Vietnamese, the emissions are quickly making Hanio the most polluted city in Asia.

There's a very distinct possibility that we may be able to leave early next week. All we wait for now is approval from the embassy and a visa for Molly. We're getting there, slowly but surely. Our ticket has us set to depart on Tues. night at midnight but I have a feeling we're going to have to change it to a later date. We will be so glad to get home and look forward to the cool waters and cooler temperatures of Fishers Island in August. When we do leave though, we leave with regret for not having seen more of this wonderful country. Sapa, Hue, HCMC, and the Mekong delta are just some of the places we'd like to visit on our next trip here. That and then a dash over the border to Laos to go to Luang Prabang. And maybe, just maybe, back to Cambodia which still tugs at our heart strings.

More later. Next stop: Halong Bay