Before yesterday I couldn’t remember the last time we—vague, I know—had spent time together outside of my apartment. Hanoi’s winter was particularly a brutal one, leaving us cold, tired, and lazy to travel across town for a nice meal.

I knew I’d be leaving Hanoi soon, though—I’m writing this from Can Tho—and mustered up the energy to drive to Hoan Kiem for what was our last meal together before the upcoming week. I really couldn’t have picked a better spot. I’ve been dining at Angelina for several years now; its atmosphere is unbeatable and its food, while at times hit or miss in taste, is always meticulously prepared and presented. The staff is also top notch.

It’s likely we’ll continue to spend most of our time this month and next at my home or doing things not at all close to the city center, so it’s moments like the following for which I feel so fortunate. Food and people make a beautiful pair.

Spotted at Dan’s Cafe (91 Linh Lang), which is fortuitously a 5-minute walk from my doorstep. I didn’t buy them, but the vast amount and variance of Skittles at the shop was photo-worthy alone. The price tag on these beauties is currently 28,000 VND ($1.34 USD) per package.

When I was younger my father used to make a meal that he called hash—ground beef, pinto beans, chopped onions, corn, and spices. It was always homemade and always incredibly delicious. I’ve been missing the past lately and wanted to grab a bit of it back tonight by making a quick, lazy, and half-as-delicious version of my dad’s hash.

I’m still trying to find my sea legs when it comes to cooking in Hanoi because so many of the ingredients that I would normally have access to in the United States aren’t available here. Either way, I don’t think I’ll ever be as good a cook as my dad was.

Most of what I plated tonight came from cans. Hopefully by this time next year I’ll never need canned anything and will learn to make my meals from scratch. Until then I’ll do my best with what I have and enjoy the good memories from spending part of my childhood with pops.

I think these are yellow chrysanthemums; at least that’s what one of the flower sellers at my local market told me this morning. I am dreadfully ignorant when it comes to flowers but I figure I should start making my home feel warm and happy. That said, who puts flowers—poorly arranged, at that—next to a microwave? This guy.

With International Women’s Day just around the corner, it was my goal this Valentine’s Day to avoid flowers altogether. Those will come soon enough.

I instead opted for one dozen cupcakes from Westlake Cupcake, a small Hanoi outfit run by two fellow expats since mid-point last year. My first experience with Anna and Mia’s cupcakes was good. This year’s experience with them was beyond incredible.

It’s times like these when my self-imposed exile from the land of chocolates and sweets makes me shed a tear. I ended up sharing a few small bites of the cupcakes with my Valentine—who was overjoyed beyond measure—and sending her home with the rest to share with family and friends.

In my estimation today was, all in all, perfect. I gave cupcakes and received a hand-drawn card with an empty photo frame that will soon be filled with a lovely photo. Simple, but meaningful. That’s always been what makes me happy.