With the snap of the wooden chopsticks, squeeze of the sriracha bottle, and slurp of the broth, having a bowl of pho is more than just about the eating. It’s also about the fresh ingredients. The side dish of assorted veggies including bean sprouts, limes, onions, mint, and jalapeño, enhances the flavor of the broth and can be modified truly any way you want.
In typical pho house fashion, the soup speaks for itself. The restaurant, in its simplicity, puts the quality of taste in the food, making the decor and house toned down to let the foods shine as the main attraction. No decked-out tables, just the essentials — hoisin sauce, chili paste, and sriracha.
A gem within a neighborhood in South Salt Lake City, Pho Tay Ho brings Asian communities and other groups the experience of eating traditional Vietnamese soup, pho.
A bowl of beef pho and a side dish of assorted vegetables.
Pho is the ultimate comfort food. Pho Tay Ho is run by Mai Nguyen and her daughter Michelle.
The noodle house opened in 1995 after Mai came to the United States in the 1980s to seek safety during the Vietnam War. With a passion for cooking and Vietnamese food, Mai went from starting her business in an apartment, now where Penny Ann’s cafe resides, to having her own house down the street converted into a pho restaurant.
When the rent agreement was terminated for the apartment building in 2008, Mai was forced out of her business and made the future of the pho restaurant uncertain. Michelle Nguyen would describe the move as a “blessing in disguise.”
The home-turned-restaurant at 1766 Main St. was how the dynamic duo got their business back up and running. This gave the two ownership and the freedom to manage the restaurant their way.
For being in an actual house, location adds to the familiar feeling of home. Now being open for around 27 years, Pho Tay Ho is the place to get both great hospitality and any bowl of pho your heart desires.
Michelle speaks on her role in the business and the experience of growing up in a noodle house. Living in Salt Lake City her whole life, Michelle has worked alongside her mother for as long as she can remember.
Michelle Nguyen working her Saturday shift.
Growing up, Michelle’s childhood was a lot different from the other kids in town. “I didn’t have a typical schedule that most (children) did and since I was of age doing math and writing, I was being immersed into the restaurant,” Michelle said. Looking back, Michelle can confidently say that her childhood is heavily marked with memories at the noodle house that made her experience unique.
Sitting in the restaurant after school, doing homework up until she was at the University of Utah, making her own food and being so close to home, Michelle loved her childhood being centered around the restaurant.
Michelle’s passion for pho is the reason why working at Pho Tay Ho felt like the perfect fit. She said, “I got a degree in communication and worked at a station for a while, but corporate life isn’t what I wanted, so that’s why I decided to do this (work at the restaurant) full time.”
Since she was a little girl when starting to help at the restaurant, Michelle has the unique perspective of having customers that have known her since she was a kid. “We have a joke up front that says employee of the month and there is my kid picture up there…so longest streak ever on employee of the month,” Michelle said.
As for the beauty of the kind of meal pho is, Michelle describes it similar to Subway. “You can make it your own, I always get upset when people say there is a right or wrong way to eat pho because you can spice it up differently… you can change it up however you like,” Michelle said.
The inside seating and dining area at Pho Tay Ho.
It’s all about the broth for Michelle. Serving traditional Northern Vietnamese pho, Pho Tay Ho separates itself from a majority of pho places. With a lot of the influence being taken from the southern region of Vietnam, the Northern holds a lighter flavor compared to the deep richness of southern Vietnamese pho.
Being a part of the community of Salt Lake City, many in surrounding areas also love the familiarity and home feel that the noodle house has. Kathy Chau, a second-year student at the University of Utah, is a regular at Pho Tay Ho and a big fan of Mai and Michelle.
“I’ve been going there with my parents since I was really young and they had it in the apartment complex, it always felt homey and comfortable, like going to a family member’s house,” Chau said. Living in Utah her whole life, Chau loves the pho place for more than just the food, but for the service as well.
“I feel very calm in there, it’s not chaotic, very intimate, they care about the customers, very personable, not so much hustle and bustle, so that’s why I like it,” Chau said.
Being a Vietnamese American, Chau appreciates the quality of Pho Tay Ho’s cooking, along with the care they put into their service.
“Usually other pho restaurants I’ve been to are trying to push you in and out, in and out” Chau elaborates, “so I really appreciate the tastes of the broth and how long they could cook all the meats and other stuff.” Chau agrees with the reviews, Pho Tay Ho does have the best broth in town!
The noodle house has been a staple to people in the Salt Lake City community for around 27 years and is a guaranteed spot for authentic and delicious pho.
The cozy restaurant is a safe place to discover the world of pho. It stands for good family and good food, making sure that you’ll never feel homesick when eating there.
Traditional Vietnamese iced coffee with assorted vegetables.
Just a few short weeks after renewing their contract in Chinatown, South Salt Lake City, the owners of Tea’s Memory were forced to pack up and relocate their business, and fast.
A new franchise café was put in its place. Luckily, Tea’s Memory owners Yuling He and Haiming Yu were planning on expanding their business and had already looked at locations in cities like Farmington, just north of Salt Lake City. There, Tea’s Memory re-opened in June 2021 as the only boba tea shop in the city and its surrounding community.
Yuling He is making an iced citrus tea, which she said is her favorite refreshing drink.
“Utah is a state that I think has an open mind and boba is pretty new to them, but people are loving to try new things, especially in Farmington. That’s one of the things that I’m so appreciative of,” Yuling He said.
Boba, a unique textured drink, became increasingly popular in China when she was growing up, He said. She began making boba in high school and credits her business’ success to her former boss, who taught her the basics beyond typical things like inventory management, consumer relations, budgeting, and more.
“She’s kind of like my first teacher about boba. She taught me how to cook it, she taught me what is good with green tea and what is good with black tea. There is so much knowledge in this market and I learned a lot,” Yuling He said.
A few years after she began her career in the café business, He was accepted to the University of Utah, where she would begin studying accounting six months later. She said she wanted to spend the half year exploring Utah and getting to know the area before moving on to college.
It wasn’t easy to part ways from her friends and family, He said, but a certain animated video about new beginnings brought her high hopes for moving to Salt Lake City and comforted her with the endless possibilities to come.
One of the first occurrences in the United States came as a shock. He said her partner, Haiming Yu, was selected to launch a boba tea shop in Chinatown. The rent was reasonable, He said, and the location was ideal, and so came Tea’s Memory — named after the video that comforted her when moving across the globe.
“I see it kind of like my child because, me and Haiming, at the moment we decided to do it, it became a thing that we really value,” He said. “At the very beginning I didn’t want to do it actually. I’m a student, I want to focus on my study.”
In order to focus in school, she became the brains behind the café’s operation by investing and providing ideas and knowledge to Haiming Yu and their employees, He said. She appreciates the staff as they execute her ideas and run the café day-to-day to make it all possible.
The new store, located at 210 W. Promontory in Farmington, has continued with great success, manager Caralee Donaldson said. Like He, Donaldson said she had no previous interest in working in food service. But, she was inspired by watching content creators on YouTube, like Mike Chen, who create vlogs as they travel the world trying different foods including boba.
Donaldson said she is lucky to have her Filipino mother, who regularly made a dessert from the Philippines called halo halo, meaning “mix mix,” throughout her childhood. She describes the sweet treat as an iced drink with mixed flavoring ingredients comparable to boba and milk tea. Boba is nostalgic to Donaldson, she said, as it reminds her of her grandparents in Arizona.
“It’s always kind of sad because you never know when you’re going to see them again, you know, so we always make a boba shop stop afterwards to cheer ourselves up,” she said.
This sentimentality toward boba brought her to managing the café, where she makes new memories every day. Donaldson said she enjoys the diverse groups of people who come in and stay a while, charmed by the shop’s welcoming environment. She said she predicts that the K-Pop music played in the café will encourage unique crowds to return regularly.
Yuling He said she carefully crafted this cordial environment to stay more involved with her consumer community while she focuses on school. Upon entering the café, there is a vibrant wall of Post-it notes with messages from customers. Some notes feature drawings, from detailed sketches to stick figures. Other notes contain inspirational messages and quotes.
“It’s kind of hard to balance at the beginning because I’m international. I do have some limitations with working. The only thing I could do is give ideas,” He said. “Some people come in and they will read, and they will get inspired.”
Caralee Donaldson is making a drink behind the counter where customers view the menu and place orders.
The menu displays a variety of fruity flavors, floral flavors, milk alternatives, sweeteners, and add-ins like jellies and boba pearls. Customers can watch every step while the barista makes their drink. The barista pulls a cup from a tall stack, each one featuring a sticker with colorful Asian artwork made by Yuling He’s cousin. When the customer receives the visually pleasing drink, they can write a review on a Post-it note on another section of the message wall. Customers look to the colorful stickies to read other people’s experience, which can help them decide what to order.
Donaldson said reading the reviews is uplifting for her as a barista and manager, but “the most fulfilling part about it is I don’t even have to be making eye contact with the person. I can hear someone [say] ‘this is so good like I’m coming back’ and that makes me feel so good about myself.”
The drink is still very new to the United States, He said, and thus many customers don’t understand what makes the drink to be considered “tea.”
Brad Heller, owner and president of the Tea Grotto in Salt Lake City, is a tea expert who enjoys sharing his knowledge with his customers and curious tea consumers. He explains that milk tea usually has powdered Camellia Sinensis plant leaves in its mixture, making it a tea.
“I like to think of Milk Tea with boba as a Taiwan milkshake. It is sweet, creamy, caffeinated, and for most, fun to chew on,” Heller said in an email interview. “I welcome boba’s role in exposing more people to the nearly infinitely complex world of tea.”
The versatility of boba milk teas is convenient to customers who wish to adjust the nutritional values or flavors of the drink, Yuling He said. She hopes people see boba’s future, and encourages customers to customize their drinks to their satisfaction and not limit themselves to a menu.
“You can make it healthy, and I want to expand the boba market, especially in the United States,” He said. “There’s still tons of people that don’t know about boba and I want to be a person who introduces it to them.”
Customer reviews recommend a honeydew coconut smoothie, cloud foam rose tea, Hong Kong coffee milk, caramel oolong, lychee lemon bark tea, taro smoothie, matcha latte, and brown sugar boba.Post-its with phrases and a simple drawing of a frog. Pictured is a brown sugar boba milk tea. All drinks are served in a plastic cup with an artsy sticker.Post-its on the wall are brightly colored, each with a unique drawing or phrase from anonymous café visitors.
It’s no secret that people often skip past video game credits. But for Karan Ganesh, within those names lie important reminders about representation in the world of game development.
“If you see some Indian name out there, I’m like, ‘Yeah, wow, that’s so cool that that person got to work on that, I wish I got to be there,” Ganesh said in a Zoom interview. “Just seeing a name on the credit is something really huge.”
And in an industry where nearly half of surveyed Asian-American gamers feel as if characters aren’t equally represented when it comes to race, those reminders can be critical — especially for Asians breaking into American gaming.
“There were not many people who I could look up to and say, ‘Hey, I would like to become like this person someday,’” Ganesh said. “There was no person from my background I’d say who I could relate to.”
Despite the global market of video games, there’s little discussion of Asian representation, and even less research to be found on Asian and Asian American game developers. In India, Ganesh wasn’t aware of the people and processes that went into creating video games. But he did know he enjoyed playing them.
At UC Davis, Ganesh continued to explore the game development world. When he finally reached the University of Utah’s Entertainment Arts and Engineering (EAE) program, everything “took off.”
“The people [in Salt Lake City] were so great,” Ganesh said. “I got to learn a lot from there.”
Before earning a master’s degree at the U, Ganesh focused mainly on the building aspects of game development, such as computer science. He was encouraged during the EAE program to step into a management role as a producer — a role he hadn’t known existed, but one Ganesh says he’s glad he found.
Game producers are tasked with overseeing various development teams, making sure that deadlines are met and roadblocks are thwarted.
“I behave as a glue to the team,” Ganesh said. “As a person who really likes to talk and engage a lot with other people in communication, I find this to be a great role.”
Ganesh credits his diverse education — which includes studying in Chennai, India; England; California and Utah — with his success in production.
“It was one that helped me communicate better with diverse people and also understand the different cultural backgrounds,” he said.
The pandemic put those communication skills to the test during Ganesh’s final year within the EAE program. His cohort had to create a game without meeting in person.
“It was a really difficult time,” Ganesh said. “The first time we actually got to meet everybody was after we published and launched the game, during our celebration party.”
In the photo at left, Karan Ganesh (holding the trophy) stands with part of his team after winning the Utah Game Developer Choice Award for Artistic Achievement in December 2021. The game, Abyss of Neptune, was the students’ thesis project. In the photo at right, Karan Ganesh (sitting behind the cake) poses with the Abyss of Neptune team at the game’s launch celebration. The game crossed over 20,000 activations in less than two weeks when it launched in May 2021. Photos courtesy of Karan Ganesh.
Ganesh worked as the producer for Abyss of Neptune, the team’s first-person underwater survival horror game. The hard work didn’t go unrewarded, though, as the project won the Utah Game Developer Choice Award for Artistic Achievement.
“Today I can finally say, ‘Worked on an award winning title,’” Ganesh said in a tweet.
Now, as an associate producer for 2K Games and a former member of Big Fish Games, Ganesh can also finally say it’s his name serving as a reminder to other Asians looking to join the industry.
“That is where I feel that representation really matters,” he said. “It’s a great thing that they feel they can pursue as well. But also it’s an encouragement for you to make sure that you can help them and support them in any way possible.”
In the case of 2K Games, employee resource groups were created to uphold the company’s “come as you are” values regarding diversity. According to Benji Han, director of global marketing strategy for NBA 2K, the Asian American group was born out of the rise of anti-Asian sentiment. Now, the group has transformed into what Han describes as a celebratory and empowering community.
“We wanted to also elevate the conversation about unconscious biases that Asian Americans face in the workforce that lead directly and indirectly to glass ceilings — ‘bamboo ceilings,’ in the case of Asian Americans,” Han said in a statement published on 2K’s website.
Alongside Akshay Bharadhwaj, Karan Ganesh hosts the Humans of gamedev podcast. The podcast was created in January 2022 and is still in production, with no episodes released yet. Photo from @humansofgamedev on Twitter.
Personally, Ganesh’s support of aspiring developers takes the form of the Humans of gamedev podcast, which he co-hosts and creates content for on LinkedIn. While still in production, the podcast and LinkedIn posts spread the origin stories of game developers to encourage others to explore.
“People say it’s a closely knit industry, but if you’re able to connect with the right people, you could really get an opportunity that knocks the door for you,” Ganesh said.
Ganesh advises aspiring developers not to be afraid to experiment and reach out to professionals, but make sure they understand the commitment video games require.
“I think the first and foremost thing is having the mindset that you really want to build something,” he said. “It’s something that people find cool, but once you get into it, it’s a lot harder than people expect it to be.”
And for some in India, entering the vast world of video game development is even harder.
“There are still some traditional families who see it as not a career that you can pursue, and so I want to be able to break that barrier for them,” he said.
Ganesh says he was lucky to have his parent’s support when exploring game development, but his work isn’t done.
“If you’re passionate about something, you should really be able to pursue it,” he said. “That’s something that I really want to try and help people out with.”
A love for video games has grown beyond what he expected. Ganesh’s name now has the chance to inspire others.
Karan Ganesh worked both as a producer and PR and community manager for Abyss of Neptune, a free, first-person underwater horror survival game.
Jenneth Doria has never forgotten the gifts that her father brought home when she was a girl living in Tondo, an impoverished coastal district in Manila, Philippines.
They weren’t candies or toys or fancy appliances. They couldn’t be quickly devoured, broken from play or rendered useless by rust. They were encyclopedias — heavy, leather-bound volumes that as a set encompassed everything there was to know about the world. They were knowledge itself.
“Ever since we were young,” Doria said in a Zoom interview, “we were ingrained with the power of education.”
Education was what allowed Doria to leave the Phillippines after college for a career as a Registered Nurse in the United States. She was speaking from LAX, on her way back to the Philippines with IHHELPP, an organization she founded to build disaster-resilient infrastructure in her native country. She said her heart has always been in giving back to the people there.
Doria (left) and colleagues outside of Dueg Resettlement Elementary School. The organization built a disaster-resilient classroom for students.
At the age of 53, after raising seven children, she returned to school at the University of Utah to earn her master’s degree in nursing education. She then earned her DNP to share her knowledge with the next generation. And since 2015, she has been a professor in the College of Nursing.
Filipinos have long been a major nursing workforce in the United States. Doria, who initially wanted to study business, was encouraged to pursue nursing by her mother, who knew it meant an opportunity to escape from poverty. The career has allowed her to follow her passion — helping others.
“Culturally, it aligns with our values,” she said. “We take care of our elderly, we take care of our family, it’s kind of ingrained with us. So it comes naturally for a Filipino to become a nurse.”
And despite an unprecedented strain on nurses and a rise in anti-Asian attacks, Doria is hopeful about the future of nursing in this country. She’s not alone: starting in 2020 the College of Nursing has ramped up its efforts to strive for equity among students and faculty alike.
Nurses have been in the spotlight since the coronavirus pandemic began, showcasing the extreme sacrifices they were making on the frontlines. Troubling statistics emerged about Filipino nurses: recent reports found that Filipino Americans represent just 4% of American nurses but accounted for 25% of nurse deaths attributed to COVID-19.
Jenneth Doria hands out hygiene and school supplies on a trip to the Philippines with IHHELP.
Although there’s no way to be certain of the cause, the disproportionate rate of COVID-19 deaths among Filipino healthcare workers has been attributed to several different factors. TIME reported that foreign-educated nurses are frequently sent to hospitals that have trouble retaining American-born nurses. These are places that are understaffed, underfunded and have limited access to personal protective equipment.
Filipino nurses often work in bedside and critical care units. Dedicated to providing the best possible care for their patients, they’re likely to work long hours and go above and beyond, increasing their risk of exposure to illness.
The pandemic has also led to a dramatic increase in anti-Asian hate crimes nationwide. A 2022 report found that mental health concerns among Asian American frontline workers during the pandemic “were compounded by concurrent anti-Asian racism and violence.”
But despite burnout, a continued rise in anti-Asian hate and a nationwide nursing shortage, Doria is, overwhelmingly, optimistic about the next generation.
“This is what I tell my students,” she said. “There’s been so much burnout now. Because we’ve been really severely impacted by this pandemic. But I tell them, you’ve gotta look beyond the hospital walls. Even if it’s not nursing per se, reach out to other things so that you’re really addressing your well-being. What makes you happy? What gives you joy?”
Doria’s optimism mirrors the outlook of the College of Nursing, which is taking action to address these issues both in the classroom and the workplace. The college is exploring big questions with complex answers. How can it attract more diverse groups of people to nursing? And how can it retain the students and faculty that it already has?
“It feels to me like a constant search,” said Valerie Flattes in a Zoom interview. She was named the associate dean for equity, diversity and inclusion when the position was created in July 2021.
Flattes is in charge of implementing action strategies to recruit and retain a more diverse faculty and student body. She emphasized that many of the issues are systemic and come down to undoing years of bias in the healthcare system. But she, too, is hopeful about the college’s efforts.
“I always approach it from the positive,” Flattes said. “We’re trying to change what we teach our students, how we interact with our students.”
The college is undergoing a full curriculum review to remove bias and discrimination in all forms from its course materials. It now intends to include anti-racist content in every course, with anti-racism training provided for students and faculty alike.
Flattes has been a faculty member since 2001. And although change has been slow, she has seen a profound difference since she started teaching.
“At one point there was me, and there was another Black faculty, and another Asian faculty,” she said. But the numbers keep growing. There are now Asian faculty in every department and the college plans to hire more.
Despite the efforts of the U and other institutions, faculty from minority groups with advanced nursing degrees account for just 16% of full-time appointments. With minority groups making up around a third of Americans, the disparity is clear.
The state’s overwhelming whiteness deters some professorial candidates from coming to Utah, Flattes said. But she’s noticed that many people realize it’s not as bad as they expected.
Doria said she loves working at the University of Utah.
“I invested in a college of nursing because I truly feel that I am valued,” she said. “I am so grateful to work with talented, competent and wonderful colleagues.”
Essential in the mission to recruit more diverse faculty is the need to remove the barriers discouraging diverse students from attending nursing school. A 2007 paper listed some of these: cost, admission criteria heavily hinged on GPA and standardized test scores, internalized bias and lack of representation on admissions committees.
There is a cyclical nature to this quest. Higher enrollment of diverse students in nursing and higher education programs results in increased diversity among nursing faculty. And the more diverse faculty present, the more attractive a college will be for students of color. The American Association of Colleges of Nursing stated that a lack of nursing educators from minority groups could warn potential students of barriers to advancement into faculty positions. A more diverse faculty could have the opposite effect, one of encouragement.
“I appreciate our mission to support a diverse student population,” Doria said. Alongside Flattes, she is a member of the Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Outreach committee acting to identify and address racial bias in the college’s curriculum, recruitment and hiring processes. For Doria, this pursuit will further the ultimate goal of the profession — helping others.
A nursing workforce that is not only more diverse but also more educated about healthcare’s persistent inequities will provide all patients with a higher standard of care. Even if they don’t pursue formal educator roles, nurses can still teach and inspire the people around them.
“Our students interact with people in the community, and they can be the best ambassadors for us in encouraging people to apply to nursing,” Flattes said. She recalled doing exactly that when she worked as a nurse and met patients who wished that they’d gone into the field.
Although progress feels slow-moving, Flattes, Doria and their colleagues are hard at work. Anti-racist curriculum, bias training, recruitment strategizing and research are all on the agenda. Flattes believes that the most important thing she can do is keep talking to people and educating them on the importance of these issues.
“There is a long way to go,” she said. “But we’re getting closer every day.”
Sometimes you don’t need to be a superhero to do great things. Often, it is enough to simply give love and complete your work with dedication, commitment, and passion. As Floyd Mori did and does, showing uncommon courage.
Shiro Floyd Mori is a farm boy.
He is the seventh of eight children, who was raised in Utah by principled parents and long-suffering siblings.
Floyd Mori, in the front row, with his older brothers Nobuo, Tom, and Shig in about 1944. All photos courtesy of Floyd Mori.
“I benefited greatly from my older siblings’ example and reputation they had of being stellar students,” he said in an email interview.
Mori’s father emigrated from Japan in 1906 at age 16. Originally a worker at the railroad in Utah and then a farmer, his goal was to give and help the family have a better situation.
His father returned to Japan to find a wife when he was 30. He did and brought her to the U.S., where they settled in Cache Valley in northern Utah in 1921.
Because of language barriers, Mori’s parents were occasionally speaking English and conducted a social life more at home and at the farm. Mori and his younger brother helped till they left for college.
“Yes, my parents had their struggle with prejudice, but my father was very honorable and soon gained respect from neighbors all of whom were white,” he wrote in the email.
Japanese Americans and other Asians in the U.S. had suffered from racial prejudice and fear for decades. Discriminatory laws that prevented Asian Americans from owning lands, voting, testifying against whites in court and other racial discriminatory laws existed before World War II.
But that brought even more pain to the Mori family. Two of his older brothers got drafted into the U.S. Army and served during World War II. But one of them died while serving.
“It was a major loss to a Japanese family,” Mori said. “My mother suffered greatly and was depressed for years after his death. She regained much self-regard when she and my father joined the LDS (Mormon) Church in their later years.”
As if that wasn’t enough, in 1942, President Roosevelt authorized the secretary of war to prescribe certain areas as military zones, paving the way for the incarceration of Asian Americans in U.S. detention camps. The overwhelming majority of the inmates were Japanese Americans.
“So, during WWII much of the pride turned into shame because of the way they were treated. WWII was depressing for Japanese-born as well as U.S.-born Japanese. Besides being denied citizenship they were sent to desolate concentration camps just because of who they were,” Mori said.
Mori confirmed that the “generation of Asians that experienced a catastrophe in their lives are bound to become depressed with the results. WWII did that to me as I was a child when war was in progress and saw the negative caricatures and ugly depiction of the enemy at that time.”
Allyson Drayton, who is a National Certified Counselor, has written about racial trauma. Mental, physical and emotional health problems associated with racial trauma really build up over time.
Mori added that he was ashamed of his identity, of who he was, and he avoided all that was Japanese in his youth, such as Japanese food. He was beaten up by older boys when he was a kid. During his teenage years, girls’ mothers would not allow them to date him.
Mori wrote that racial trauma is in violence, hate and taunting: that became part of their lives.
Violence has always been there but more recently recognized by society at large.
“My father-in-law lost a thriving business, his home, his dignity when he was forced from Los Angeles during WWII,” he said. “There was never a recovery from this trauma.”
Floyd Mori with the then Vice President Joe Biden in Washington, D.C.
Mori added, “There is shame, embarrassment, and humiliation because of these violent treatments Asians receive.”
But from all this suffering, he made his way to redemption. Floyd Mori acted: a powerful weapon against pain.
He is a former CEO at Asian Pacific American Institute for Congressional Studies (APAICS) and a former executive director of the Japanese American Citizens League (JACL).
To become who he is now, and to make it where he is now, besides a turbulent path, Mori became also a political activist and a civil rights advocate for minorities, impacting a lot of people’s lives.
Mori was a city council member, a mayor of Pleasanton, California, and an assemblyman.
“I knew he would be a great asset to the city of Pleasanton because of his values, knowledge and fairness. He was elected to the city council and then went on to be Mayor of Pleasanton,” Mori’s former student, Steve Ferguson, said in an email.
Floyd Mori with JACL fellows at an immigration march in Washington, D.C., 2010, while he was the national executive director/CEO of the Japanese American Citizens League.
“I met Floyd Mori in 1966 when I first attended Chabot College in Hayward, CA. He was my Economics Professor. He had always impressed me as a bright, caring, and dedicated man,” Ferguson said.
Sherrie Hayashi, Mori’s co-worker, said in an email, “Floyd is one of my favorite people. His dedication and commitment to advocating for Asian American communities and issues is aspirational. Floyd always has new ideas. He creates opportunities for young leaders and actively mentors and encourages people to collaborate and be engaged in community work.” They worked together on several projects, including the National JACL Convention in Salt Lake City in 2019.
“Floyd has had a significant impact in Asian American communities, especially the Japanese American community. He has been a leader at the local, state, and national level, serving in leadership capacities in the nation’s oldest and largest Asian American civil rights organization in the United States (JACL) having been established in 1929,” Hayashi added.
His works, his devotion, his love for his people, along with Asian American advocacy and organizations, are making the difference.
“The new generations of Asian Americans that have seen the results of bigotry in this country are not going to let this continue,” Mori said.
Floyd Mori, left, with Jake Fitisemanu at the Organization of Chinese Americans awards dinner in Salt Lake City, 2019.
Jake Fitisemanu, current West Valley City councilman, recollected good memories of Mori.
“We first met in May 2015 when I was appointed by President Barack Obama to serve on the presidential advisory committee. Floyd has been an amazingly supportive and insightful mentor who encouraged me to run for local office when I concluded my service in the White House,” Fitisemanu said in an email interview.
“One thing that stands out to me is that despite his demanding schedule and external commitments to family, church, business, etc. he is frequently seen at community events, demonstrating his devotion to community through his presence, his physical, tangible support,” Fitisemanu wrote.
Floyd Mori is like a hero without a cloak. He is that type of person who has been able to face the difficulties of life with his head held high and who looks to the present and the future with a strong and enthusiastic spirit.
“He provides strategic guidance and overarching direction but allows staff and volunteers the freedom and power to operationalize and implement using their own creativity and expertise,” Fitisemanu said.
Mori is an example to follow, as he is giving voice to and helping Asian American communities by showing courage in daily life, overcoming the obstacles society, the system, and the government throw their way, besides the improvements made for these minorities in the past years.
“Floyd has also actively supported Pacific Islander communities and initiatives, with sensitivity and respect toward the controversial notion that combining Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders into a single demographic category is not mutually beneficial, and actually disadvantages Pacific Islanders,” Fitisemanu said.
Without forgetting the past, Mori envisions a better future. “My optimism is in the fact that more Asians are engaging in the political process as voters and as vote-getters running for office.”
On the south side of Salt Lake City, the mountains are accompanied by a grander view. The crimson paifang arch structure marks the entrance to the Chinatown Supermarket.
The Paifang, a traditional Chinese arch, is the first structure seen before getting into the Chinatown Shopping Center.
The aroma of traditional Vietnamese beef pho fills the air before even getting to the shops. Sweet sounds of sizzling fresh meats on the grill and the pure enjoyment of cooking your own hot pot meal.
Chinatown is home to all these sensations.
In the 5.7-acre shopping community, the largest cultural Asian shopping center in Utah takes on an even bigger role within the daily lives of Asian American communities in and around the Salt Lake area — a safe haven.
On 3370 State St., the marketplace and surrounding businesses made their debut opening on July 30, 2014. Before that, Salt Lake City wasn’t known for Asian markets or substantial in size for that matter.
The development of the shopping center went through many phases and with the initial proposal for Chinatown starting in 2005. Lots of trial and error occurred, but with the importance of the project and having a hub for Asian people in Salt Lake City, a $15-million investment was headed by Hong Kong developers Yue So and Wai Chan, according to Voices of Utah.
The population of different Asian American communities residing in Utah, and Salt Lake City in particular, is increasing. According to the Census Bureau, the population was 5.4% in April 2020.
Salt Lake City’s Asian American population is among the faster-growing populations of diverse groups. Having a larger population of Asian Americans, especially those that continue to grow, signifies the need for the Chinatown Center. With South Salt Lake being one of the most Asian populated areas in the county, the location of the marketplace is pivotal to communities nearby.
The outside of the Chinatown Shopping Center with access to the market and other shops inside.
Amongst the karaoke bar, boba shops, and hot soup restaurants, the marketplace and its products are the main attraction. Aisles of all kinds of authentic cuisine, from Chinese to Korean, Thai, and Vietnamese, to Indian, Filipino, and Japanese, the supermarket accommodates the Asian American residents of Salt Lake City.
Justine Nguyen, a University of Utah student and a Chinese-Vietnamese American, came to Utah for school from the East Coast, hoping to find a place that could provide a multicultural food experience. Then she found Chinatown.
She likes to order a Bánh mì sandwich at the supermarket, a French baguette filled with pickled carrots and radish, meat, or tofu, along with other fresh veggies and jalapeños. With just the perfect balance of spicy and sweet, she thought no other sandwich could compete with those she previously tried in Utah.
“I love the feeling of familiarity, the people, the ambient lighting, the chaos of the market, it creates a sense of home for me that I’m missing here in Utah,” said Nguyen over direct messaging.
Nguyen, from Maryland, said there are more Asian markets there. The state also has a higher Asian American population of 6.7%, according to the Census Bureau.
The inside entryway, guarded by a panda bear statue, leads into Chinatown Supermarket.
This wasn’t too much of a cultural shock for Nguyen but with the overall lack of diversity in Utah, the 19-year-old college student wanted a place to call home. “The Chinatown Market is a place where I can go to get a sense of home and feel safe,” Nguyen said. “With recent events (Covid-19 and the growth of Asian hate), it’s scary going around Utah myself. I don’t have to worry about that here (Chinatown) and I can fully embrace my culture.”
Having previously worked at the Tiger Sugar Boba Shop in Chinatown, Nguyen emphasizes the way the experience allowed her to “immerse herself in the Asian culture of Utah.”
The cultures that are highlighted are available to those from different groups as well, giving people from different nationalities and backgrounds the same opportunity to discover all that Chinatown has to offer. Part of Nguyen’s experience includes helping people from other cultures on their food journeys.
Born and raised in Salt Lake City, Cynthia Wang, a Chinese-Vietnamese American, gives insight into the tie to her identity that the shops and restaurants have.
“It feels like home. It smells like the spices and flavors my parents used in their cooking. I see people who look like me,” Wang said over direct messaging.
The third-year student describes what it was like living in Utah growing up, and how markets that were around before the Chinatown market had some traditional Asian products, but in smaller selections and markets. “It makes me feel seen,” Wang said. “Growing up here, there were very few restaurants that served food from my culture, but most of them catered to white consumers.”
The South Salt Lake Chinatown allows the majority of residents in Utah to gain a new perspective through the cultural diversity the market has to offer in customer and employee interaction. Engaging with people from all walks of life is a valuable experience, especially when minority populations continue to rise.
The majority of Utah’s population is white, the Chinatown is a community for the underrepresented. For those who haven’t had a place to belong or relate to. A community to be able to “blend in” as Wang describes it.
With the occasional homesickness, Aurora Xu, 36, a Chinese immigrant, had a relatively easy time adapting to Salt Lake City and its culture.
Asian snacks and drinks are two types of purchases Xu said make her visits to the Chinatown Market. Whether the snacks are shrimp chips, choco-pies, or mochi, Xu enjoys the foods that feel more familiar.
About the living adjustments and the transition of living in Utah, Xu said the Chinatown has foods from her hometown, making connecting to tradition “easy for shopping and with the Supermarket having a lot of restaurants.”
Even though her journey to finding her community wasn’t as difficult as others moving from out of state, Chinatown is a meeting ground for social interaction and for cultivating more relationships. Restaurants around the market like Hero Hotpot are hot spots for Xu and her friends to get together.
The impact that Chinatown has on different Asian American communities in Salt Lake City has brought various groups together in celebration of Asian cultures.
A marketplace, one unlike the American grocery store chains, is more than just the produce and products that reside there. It’s a home, a safe haven, a market for all Asian Americans.
The Wat Dhammagunaram Layton temple. Photo by Kristine Weller.
The aromas of homemade Thai food wafted through the hall. A box of sesame balls, a tin pan of pad thai, a plate of fried vegetables, and lots of hot white rice were placed by the entrance to the temple.
More dishes were added as people arrived. Beef jerky, spicy papaya salad, fish and doughnuts.
Members conversed with each other in Thai while arranging the food neatly on a counter. Some grabbed water bottles or poured freshly brewed tea into paper cups.
Every Sunday at 10:30 a.m., Buddhists begin gathering at the Wat Dhammagunaram Layton temple. There they have created a place for community, peace, and Theravada Buddhism.
Most Sundays a woman called Poonie is in attendance. Poonie, 93, is the oldest Buddhist at the temple. She helped set up the first Wat Dhammagunaram temple and has been supporting it ever since.
Poonie is from Thailand and came to Utah because her husband worked at Hill Air Force Base (HAFB). In fact, according to a welcome pamphlet the temple provides, most of the founders of the Wat Dhammagunaram temple are wives of American airmen from HAFB.
The pamphlet explains that these Thai immigrants wanted a place for traditional religious services. So, they founded the Wat Dhammagunaram temple in 1975, but it didn’t look like it does today.
It began in a small residential home in Ogden and was then later moved to a second house in Layton. Finally, the temple found its current location at 644 E. 1000 North in Layton and was consecrated in 1995.
The Wat Dhammagunaram sign identifying the temple. The committee members for the temple wish to add a fence here too so that the temple is more recognizable. Photo by Kristine Weller.
Many immigrants who go to this temple are Thai, although there have been members from Laos and Cambodia as well. Thailand, Laos and Cambodia are all predominantly Theravada Buddhist countries, which is why the Wat Dhammagunaram temple practices Theravada Buddhism.
Phitthayaphon, one of the monks at this temple, said the basics of Theravada Buddhism follow five precepts: refrain from killing, refrain from stealing, refrain from sexual misconduct, refrain from telling lies and refrain from intoxication.
A booklet Phitthayaphon provided, “The Main Ideas of Theravada Buddhism” by Du Wayne Engelhart, explains two important things related to the five precepts.
The first is they are not rules, they are guides.
Engelhart writes, “We should want to follow the precepts, not because we fear being punished by God if we do not but because we understand that good effects will come from observing them.”
Second, the precepts also have a positive meaning.
Engelhart explains that instead of just refraining from each item in the five precepts, aim to spread kindness to all living things, be honest in your words and actions and respect the rights of others, show moderation in sexual activities, be sincere in speech, and keep a clear state of mind.
Another big part of Theravada Buddhism is the four noble truths.
The book describes each of these truths. First is the noble truth of suffering (dukkha). According to Engelhart, this means “suffering in many forms occurs in human life because of the unsatisfactory and changing character of existence.”
Second is the noble truth of the origin (samudaya) of suffering. Engelhart explains this means craving is the origin of suffering.
Third is the noble truth of the end (nirodha, extinction) of suffering. Engelhart writes “getting rid of craving is getting rid of suffering.”
Fourth is the noble truth of the way (magga), which leads to the end of suffering. Engelhart explains that “the Noble Eightfold Path is the Middle Way that leads to the end of suffering.”
Buddhism also emphasizes being welcoming to everyone.
Arunne Chwab, a committee member at the temple, said everyone is invited to come to the temple. In fact, all the members are very friendly to newcomers and make sure to include them in the service.
“Even if you not believe in our religion, you can come,” Chwab said.
Five Red Apples
After members and newcomers take their seats, the monks begin melodic chanting.
Each has a microphone, as does one other member who leads chants the attendees repeat back. Two large speakers project the monks’ rhythmic voices.
These are the five bowls that are offered during the service. Food and larger items are placed inside the bowls and money is placed in the trays. One bowl is offered to the Buddha and two bowls are offered to each monk. Photo by Kristine Weller.
During the service, members walk to five bowls lined up next to the counter with food. It is my first time at the temple, so I stay seated, unsure what I should do.
One congregant then urges me to go with her. She has a whole bag full of offerings to put inside the bowls and wants to include me.
We walk over to the bowls and she picks up a zip-close bag of fresh rice, raises it to her forehead, and places it into the first bowl. She then hands me a small red apple to offer. The last thing for the first offering is a dollar bill, which she raises to her forehead, and places on a tray in front of the bowl. She hands me a dollar bill as well, and I do the same.
We repeat the same offering for each of the five bowls — five bags of rice, five small red apples, five dollars each.
Bright Orange Robes
Today, only two monks look after the temple and conduct Sunday services, Phitthayaphon and Prapatphan.
The two monks who take care of the Wat Dhammagunaram temple: Prapatphan, left, and Phitthayaphon. Photo by Kristine Weller.
Phitthayaphon was born in Chiang Mai, Thailand, and started his monk training after primary school. He was 12 years old. He originally started his training because he wished to follow one of his friends.
However, after going to the temple, studying the Buddha’s teachings, and practicing meditation, he said he felt peaceful and happy. That’s why he continued his training and is still a monk today.
“This is my own decision,” Phitthayaphon said. “In Buddhism, we don’t force people to be ordained as a monk.”
He also said if he wanted to disrobe and not be a monk anymore, he would be free to do so.
Phitthayaphon came to this temple after another monk he knew here invited him. He said the process to come to America is quite lengthy, which is partly why there are only two monks at the temple. He first got a tourist visa and after a few months, he applied for a religious visa.
This is now Phitthayaphon’s fifth year at the temple.
The other monk, Prapatphan, has only been at this temple for about nine months. He can’t speak English, but that doesn’t matter much.
Monks have a fairly structured day, and a lot of the time they are around Thai-speaking people.
Phitthayaphon said he rises at 6 a.m. every day but Sunday and chants until 7:30 a.m. Breakfast is at 8 a.m. and once he has eaten he cleans.
Three buildings are connected to the temple grounds. The temple where services are held, a smaller building to the northeast side of the temple where food is sometimes offered, and a house behind the temple where the monks live. Phitthayaphon cleans and helps take care of all of these buildings.
After cleaning, Phitthayaphon said the monks will usually study until 11 a.m. Then they must eat lunch because monks cannot eat after noon. They can still have drinks, though. Phitthayaphon said his favorite drink is tea, especially Thai orange tea and green tea.
During the week, Phitthayaphon said they will typically cook food for themselves, sometimes with ingredients the Buddhists have offered. He said his favorite is northern Thai dishes because they remind him of home.
Buddhists will also offer lunch to the monks, so they do not have to cook, but that is usually on Friday or Saturday.
When Buddhists do offer lunch, the monks are occasionally taken to restaurants. Phitthayaphon said he and the other monk once drove three hours to bless a new restaurant and have food offered to them.
This is actually unusual for monks, Phitthayaphon said, because in Thailand monks don’t drive.
This is one of a few differences between Buddhism in Thailand compared to Buddhism in the U.S. Another is when the holy day is celebrated.
Buddhism follows the lunar calendar, so its holy days will fall on different days of the week. However, because the U.S. is dominated by Christianity and the workweek is structured accordingly, Buddhists must practice on Sundays instead.
This doesn’t seem to bother the members of the Wat Dhammagunaram temple. Chwab, the committee member, says she goes to the temple because she finds peace and can meditate there. The focus is less on the mechanics of what is traditionally done and more about finding peace and honoring the teachings of the Buddha.
“We come together because we love this peace and happiness,” Chwab said.
Buddhist holidays also correspond to the lunar calendar. The two biggest holidays in Thai Buddhism are the Thai New Year and the Kathina (robe) Ceremony.
Monks attending the Thai New Year festival at the Wat Dhammagunaram. Phitthayaphon said monks from other Theravada Buddhist temples are invited to visit during festivals. Monks from temples in Sandy and West Valley City, Utah, and Las Vegas have visited. Photo courtesy of Phitthayaphon.This is a money tree where people can donate. Warunee said they display it during most celebrations. Photo by Kristine Weller.
Although the new year is celebrated in Thailand on April 13, 14 and 15, it is not always possible to celebrate on those days in Utah. The celebration must be on the weekend since people need to work, so this year the temple held the Thai New Year festival on April 16 and 17.
This is Chwab’s favorite Buddhist holiday. During the new year, people ask for apologies from monks and elders, but there is also a big celebration.
The Wat Dhammagunaram temple, she said, has a food fair every Thai New Year. A small stage outside on the temple grounds hosts traditional Vietnamese, Laos and Thai performances as well.
Chwab said there will also be kickboxing and a Miss New Year contest.
The winner of the Miss New Year contest from the 2019 festival. Photo courtesy of Phitthayaphon.Women in the Miss New Year contest from a previous festival. They are standing on the stage outside the temple, where other performances are also held during the Thai New Year. Photo courtesy of Phitthayaphon.
The other big holiday is the Kathina (robe) ceremony, which is essentially a ceremonial presentation of new robes to the monks.
Phitthayaphon, the younger monk at the temple, said monks typically stay in one place for three months and it is no different for the monks at this temple.
According to the BBC, the historical reason for this is that during the Vassa, or monsoon, period, monks were journeying together, intending to spend Vassa with the Lord Buddha. However, Vassa began before they reached the Lord Buddha, and they could no longer continue their journey.
The Buddha then awarded cloth and told the monks to sew a robe and give it to another because “there was nothing as uplifting as generosity and sharing.”
The BBC also explained that a Kathina is the frame used to make the robes.
So, after the rainy season, monks are offered new robes. They are a striking orange and Phitthayaphon said the robes have three pieces.
According to “The Buddha’s Robe” by Barbara O’Brien, the main piece is a large rectangle, about 6-by-9-feet. It is usually wrapped to cover the left shoulder and leave the right shoulder and arm exposed.
The second piece is worn under the first. O’Brien explains it is wrapped around the waist, covering the body from the knees to the waist.
The third piece, O’Brien writes, is an extra robe. It can be “wrapped around the upper body for warmth” or is “sometimes folded and draped over a shoulder.”
Phitthayaphon occasionally wears an orange sweater under his robes, but this is only because it is cold in Utah. In Thailand, he said he would not wear a shirt underneath.
Phitthayaphon in the main temple area. He wears a sweater under his robe because it is cold in Utah, but in Thailand he would leave the right shoulder and arm bare. Photo by Kristine Weller.
He also said monks used to take robes from dead bodies. According to O’Brien, this is because the Buddha taught monks to get their robes from pure cloth, meaning cloth no one wants.
O’Brien describes a cloth no one wants as the shroud the dead were wrapped in and soiled cloth.
Today, monks no longer get their robes this way. Phitthayaphon said his now comes from a factory. However, the robes have always been the same bright orange.
Wednesday Night Buddha
After making offerings to the first five bowls, I walk with the woman over to a table with eight more. These bowls each have a statue above it with the Buddha in different positions. Each corresponds to a day of the week, with two for Wednesday.
She said Wednesday night is her favorite bowl to make an offering to. The Wednesday night statue is the Buddha standing with an elephant and monkey at its feet.
Below the bowl is a short explanation of the Wednesday Night Buddha.
It says: “Buddha spent the rain retreat on his own in the Palilayaka (palelai) forest because he was tired of the monks of Kosambi who had split into two groups and were not in harmony. While in the forest, the elephant Palilayaka attended to him, and monkey offered him a beehive.”
I place a dollar she hands me in a different vessel and we stand in contemplative silence for a moment.
We take our seats again as the previous five bowls are presented before the monks. Two bowls for each monk and one for the Buddha.
The monks then begin their lyrical chant once more.
Some members will make another offering to one of these bowls, which correspond to the days of the week. Starting with the Sunday bowl from left are “Seven Days Looking,” “Pacifying the Relatives,” “Realizing Nirvana,” “Pang Umbat or Holding Alms Bowl,” “Retreat in the Forest,” “The Meditating Buddha,” “Contemplating Buddha” and “Protected by the Naga King.” Photo by Kristine Weller. This is the statue of the Wednesday Night Buddha. Photo by Kristine Weller.Monks Prapatphan (left) and Phitthayaphon conduct a Sunday service using microphones to project their voices. The four bowls laid out before them are offerings from the congregants. Photo by Kristine Weller.Pictured toward the bottom are a tray and a bowl filled with offerings from members attending the Sunday service. There is also a donation box to the right which was locked for two years because the key was lost. Once the box was finally opened, Warunee, the treasurer, collected over $2,000 from it. Photo by Kristine Weller.
A Changing Landscape
The Wat Dhammagunaram temple has been at its current location since 1995. Although it has stood stable and strong in the ensuing years, the surrounding environment has been changing drastically since its consecration.
An open field once surrounded the temple. However, residential buildings have sprung up in the last few decades.
Previously a noticeable landmark, the temple is now easy to miss.
The committee for the temple, made up of volunteers like Poonie and Chwab, is concerned about this. Warunee, another member, said the group wants to build a fence in front of the temple.
“We want to make something in front to show people this is a Buddhist temple,” Warunee said.
The committee meets monthly to discuss temple activities and finances. Warunee is the treasurer, so she keeps track of money and bills. Every two weeks she counts the money that has been donated to the temple.
At the end of the service I attended, she counted $968.
Warunee counts the money collected from the service. Photo by Kristine Weller.
All the members cheered when Warunee announced this number; they are happy to support their temple.
Warunee said the donations are divided into three parts. One part goes to the temple, which pays for utilities or gas. The other two parts are for the monks. She said they work for free, and they need some income for themselves as well.
You Like Spicy?
A woman rings a gong.
The chanting has stopped, and the gong reverberates into silence.
Now, about 30 minutes before noon, it is time for the monks to have their last meal of the day.
The monks sit at a table toward the back of the temple. Steam drifts from the homemade Thai food that has already been set out before them.
As they eat, the rest of the members converse enthusiastically.
At noon the monks are finished eating, and the service comes to an end. The congregants then gather to have their fill.
The same woman I made offerings with urges me to get food, as does Warunee, the treasurer. They point out different foods displayed.
A box of sesame balls, a tin pan of pad thai, a plate of fried vegetables, and hot white rice.
We begin to fill our plates. Beef jerky, spicy papaya salad, fish and doughnuts.
Poonie, the 93-year-old member, points out the spicy papaya salad on my plate.
“You like spicy?” she asks. I say I do, and she nods and smiles in approval.
Asian American chef Naomi Larsen opens up about her custard business in Salt Lake City. In step with the times, she brought a popular Japanese dessert here, to the place she fits in and calls it home.
A long way has already been done, but a long way still needs to be done. Women in business have often had to struggle to reach important positions.
Today, many companies can boast gender diversity within them, but the pink power is still not enough, especially within minorities. This is a demonstration of how much the business world has to work to achieve true equality.
There is still a lot to do to enhance females in business even if in the past years it has grown, from 77,800 in 2015 to 80,092 in 2019, according to The Salt Lake Tribune article published in 2021.
And what about double-minority? Female and Asian Americans, for example.
Asian American female chef, Naomi Larsen, tells her story and her business.
She was born and raised in Japan and came to the U.S. when she was only 21 to study. Her dream was to go back and open an import retro business. “I love American retro style, especially the 1950s and 1960s,” she said, and laughing she added, “but this dream disappeared.”
With time, perspectives changed, and Larsen is happy to call Salt Lake City and Utah her home. She identifies herself as an American since she got her citizenship about 25 years ago, and an immigrant.
The transition wasn’t too bad for her. “There were some minor cultural shocks, but I am fitting here much better than in Japan,” she said in a Zoom interview. “I never felt Japan was my home. Is it terrible to say? I never fit in that country,” she added in an email.
Larsen said she suffered the fact that Japanese people say one thing and you have to know nine other meanings for that thing, and she couldn’t do that. It’s easier for her here, even if at the beginning her biggest struggle in the U.S. was the language.
“I remember one time, after three months I was in the U.S., I had a breakdown and just cried. I was at a friend’s house and I just locked myself in the bathroom and started crying for hours because I didn’t understand what they were saying,” she said.
Besides the new language, different culture, and different food, Larsen made her way and her impact in Salt Lake City.
About eight years ago, Larsen and her Japanese friend, Ai Levy, started a Bento business.
“Both of us had been working in the restaurant industry for a long time but that was the first time we started our own,” she said in the interview over Zoom. And she added, “We were getting sick of working for others.”
But when her friend moved out of state, she couldn’t keep Bento by herself. So, she thought, “What is the one thing I can keep doing by myself?” The answer is the Japanese-style custard and her business, Prin-Ya Custard.
Vegan Custard, Mango Vegan Custard, Cocoa Vegan Custard, Matcha Vegan Custard at Jade’s market. Larsen’s products are very appreciated by customers, who can’t believe they are vegan.
But what is the Japanese custard? Do you know about it?
Japanese custard is an intriguing dessert, simple to prepare but really effective. It is characterized by the classic flavor of the combination of simple ingredients such as eggs, milk, sugar. Ideal for an original snack or as an elegant end to a meal, Larsen’s Japanese-style custard offers a dense and creamy consistency that is truly irresistible.
“I decided to offer the Japanese-style custard because we have flan here and it is different. I couldn’t find the same thing here, so I thought I would make it and introduce it here to Salt Lake City,” she said.
It is one of the most popular desserts in Japan and, there, they could combine it in fancy ways too.
Larsen remembered the custard as a treat to herself when she was young. “In Japan, when I was going to cafés or restaurants, I was just getting the custard arranged in a fancy glass or with fruits.”
As simple as it might seem, the traditional baked custard has a silky soft texture. That caramelized sugar at the bottom is a must, but in a lot of places they don’t have that, Larsen said. It has a mild sweetness and her favorite flavor is cappuccino because she loves coffee. “My husband eats it almost every day,” she said.
The difference between the Japanese custard and the one she makes here is the texture, but ingredients are really just milk and eggs and they are not really “Japanese ingredients,” she said.
She selects local eggs and fruits from the market and other vendors and she tries to use as many local ingredients as she can.
Cocoa Vegan Custard at Jade’s market. Customers are never tired of this flavor.
“It all started with one traditional custard and vegan version because the veganism was growing fast here and with that, it became easier to have different flavors, so I kept making them,” she said.
She also said she packages the dessert in jar containers, so the customer can flip it and put it on a plate and garnish it as they please. “Customers get surprised when they tried the vegan one, because of the creaminess. They can’t believe it’s vegan.”
Larsen humbly doesn’t recognize herself as a real chef, but as a person who was confident enough to make this dessert and decided to just do it.
She is a hope for a lot of Asian Americans and females who want to live in the US or open their own business, or startup company.
“I never thought it was difficult to start a business, as a minority. Although I never applied for any real jobs, I learned that there are many business loans, grants, and aids available for minority people who want to start a business. I am especially grateful for Spice Kitchen and IRC (International Rescue Committee) for providing us the help we need,” Larsen said.
Spice Kitchen Incubator, a project of the IRC that provides help, guidance and support for those who want to start a business in Utah, talks about Prin-Ya Custard: “She strives toward less waste and an ecologically friendly business model. Custards come in a reusable glass jar that can be returned for credit at Hello Bulk Market.”
The onset of the pandemic surely affected her business negatively. Before the pandemic, she had seven retail stores and restaurants carrying her products, but after that, most of them had to shut down their business.
In 2020, food sampling was prohibited in farmers markets where she had a booth. “Due to the pandemic, it was difficult to sell products without having customers to taste them,” she said.
The pandemic also caused a lot of problems regarding major supply chains. All small businesses suffered. “Even now it’s still hard to find certain ingredients and containers,” she said.
On an ordinary day, without us expecting it, life has changed. The simplest habits, like having a coffee with your friend, going out with your partner, hugging someone you love, have become forbidden. And so, we found ourselves living in the present and in a bubble, uncertain about the future but sure of only one thing: moving forward.
And chef Naomi Larsen, even if she doesn’t refer to herself in that way, kept going.
One way of doing that was taking advantage of technology to connect with customers and spread the love for her custard.
“I learned several tricks to post as effectively, like what time to post, what hashtags to use, which photos, etc., but being an older generation, it takes a lot of effort for me,” she said.
Simple to say, difficult to do. It is difficult to create yourself as a female Asian American entrepreneur, especially during the pandemic. If it is true that change is the only certainty in life, it is just as hard to get used to it.
Rethinking in a new perspective, however, is the only possible way. At least now, at least until this war against coronavirus is won. And this is what Naomi Larsen did with her custard business, Prin-Ya.
Poetry is a language that speaks to all different kinds of souls, connecting those who are in tune with the rhythm. A space to express this creative outlet can expand one’s own view to the variety of cultures that surround them in a community.
Caribbean Nightingale is one such place. This Provo-based poetry café and boutique creates a space for artistic diversity in Utah. Michaëlle Martial, a Haitian-born poet and the creative force behind Caribbean Nightingale, is breaking barriers by spotlighting the mixture of talent that Utah has to offer.
“Nightingale is a bird I always liked to read about as a teen, you know, from poetry,” Martial said during a Zoom interview. “Then I found out several years ago that the Nightingale was the only bird that sang both day and night.”
The nightingale’s significance resonates deeply with Martial, both as a working mother and as a survivor of trauma and domestic violence. She decided to name her new business Caribbean Nightingale, the same moniker Martial uses for performing. “When it was time to register the business, I just thought it was a great idea to keep my stage name as the name of the business just because it has a lot of meaning,” Martial said.
Michaëlle Marital performing her poetry as Caribbean Nightingale during a Relaxation Through Verse event. Courtesy of the Caribbean Nightingale website. Photographed by Tania Luiza Linson.
The business of Caribbean Nightingale began in 2018 with Relaxation Through Verse. This is the poetry salon’s main event that is held in various locations around Utah offering a safe space for multicultural artists to express themselves freely. “The poetry salon is there to uplift the community as a whole but also to help promote local and emerging artists,” Martial said. “We wanted to have an uplifting experience between the community and the artists.”
These intimate events have been stationed in art galleries to coffee shops and attract developing artists from all kinds of backgrounds. Gianfranco Fernandez-Ruiz, a Dominican Republic-born artist, is one of many to connect with Martial at one of the Relaxation Through Verse poetry readings.
Gianfranco Fernandez-Ruiz performing his boom bap-inspired poetry at a Relaxation Through Verse event. Courtesy of the Caribbean Nightingale website. Photographed by Nicole Tyana Photography.
“Ever since, we’ve been homies,” Fernandez-Ruiz said in a Zoom interview. “I’m just on the other side of that island, she’s from Haiti and I’m from the Dominican Republic. So that Caribbean business, it goes a long way.”
Fernandez-Ruiz is both a poet and a multi-disciplined creative. “I mean, I graduated in English,” he said. “So, I’m all things in the arts, I do nonfiction, I do fiction. I’m a filmmaker. I’m a screenwriter, director, and I do poetry.” With the help of an ongoing Kickstarter, he is currently in the process of creating a tongue-and-cheek horror comedy movie called, “Saborrrr!”
Another performer at the Relaxation Through Verse is local musician Mel Soul. Soul attended one of Caribbean Nightingale’s events and was so touched by Martial’s poetry that she felt inspired to share her own writing and music.
“Michaëlle has kindly had myself and my drummer band mate Everett Spencer connect through her business as one of her featured musician artists for her live stream events,” Soul said in an email interview.
“Caribbean Nightingale offers poets, artists and businesswomen a safe haven for anyone (especially any person of color) to feel safe and connected through the expression of art in all forms,” Soul said.
Mel Soul (left) and Everett Spencer performing as Mel Soul & The Messenger at a Relaxation Through Verse event. Courtesy of the Caribbean Nightingale website. Photographed by Tania Luiza Linson.
Another addition to Caribbean Nightingale’s poetry salon is the TiGla Boutique, a shop and alternative outlet of highlighting the diverse talents that reside in Utah. It’s also a way to honor Martial’s mother, who was a fashion designer and seamstress. “That’s my way of amplifying Black voices, as I was trying to create some sort of legacy for my mother’s memory who passed less than a year and a half ago,” Martial said.
TiGla Boutique retails merchandise from the artists who perform at Relaxation Through Verse along with Martial’s own poetry books and other authors of African descent. Whether it be fashion, music or literature, TiGla Boutique markets the products created by these local artists, a concept Martial absorbed from her mother who was always trying to help women in her own community.
“I thought I would do something similar to help me not only feel closer to her, but to also help other artists in my community and in the Black community, specifically,” Martial said.
The most recent addition to Caribbean Nightingale’s business is the blog titled, “Black Joy Is…” This blog enlightens readers on Martial’s individual perceptions throughout her life. “It’s my personal insight as a woman, a Black woman, immigrant woman, and a poet,” Martial said. “And how travel and healing are intersected when it comes to self-care and self-love.”
While Caribbean Nightingale is connecting Utah’s diversity through art, being a one-of-a-kind business in this state still has its challenges. “Well, it’s been a journey,” Martial said, chuckling.
“There are a lot of obstacles that Black artists get into, you know, that is preventing them from succeeding within a business such as Caribbean Nightingale,” Martial said. “And sometimes Black artists don’t know that there’s so many opportunities available.”
But Caribbean Nightingale’s recent spark of exposure came in 2020 when Martial, along with five other Black-owned businesses in Utah, were selected to receive the Comcast RISE Prize. Caribbean Nightingale is the first of its kind to receive this award from Comcast, which generally supplies a business with the materials and technology it needs in order to succeed.
Since Caribbean Nightingale is a business operated from home and restructured to hosting events virtually due to COVID-19 restrictions, Comcast needed to think outside of the box for how this award would be beneficial. The prize ultimately paid for a professionally produced commercial that will air from March to June on various Utah networks and be available on the Caribbean Nightingale website.
Martial is currently in the process of releasing a downloadable poetry album as well as organizing Relaxation Through Verse events through spring and summer 2021, both virtual and in person. Martial said donations collected at these events will be distributed among the performers and be given to local shelters for individuals experiencing homelessness.
Martial’s dream of Caribbean Nightingale is almost 10 years in the making and has cracked open the artistic diversity that bubbles under Utah’s surface. Her advice to any aspirating entrepreneur who is wanting to invest in their passion is to always be mindful of the process. Or in Martial’s words, “You know, life is short, like our slogan with the coffee station, diverse life is short. Take it one sip, one rhyme and one note at a time.”
Klub Deen in west Salt Lake City’s Poplar Grove neighborhood has been closed since early April when the coronavirus began shutting down the nation’s economy.
Business owners everywhere are getting hit hard by the financial impacts of COVID-19 as hundreds if not thousands are being forced to temporarily suspend physical operations.
One such owner is Newton Gborway, the owner of Klub Deen, a nightclub with a focus on African culture, music, and dance in Salt Lake City’s west-side Poplar Grove neighborhood.
“Music and dancing are a huge part of life in Africa,” Gborway said in a phone interview. “It brings people together and it’s a great way for everyone to have fun, especially refugees who may be struggling after they move here.”
Gborway is from the West African nation of Liberia. Like most other Americans, he was taken by surprise when everything started shutting down because of social-distancing mandates. His business — which operates on the coming together of large groups of people — was hit especially hard.
“Every day that we’ve been closed we’ve been losing money,” Gborway said. “We had to shut down in the beginning of April because of what the public health order said, and now they’ve just pushed it back until the end of the month. We want to set a good example by following these health orders and doing what the government is telling everybody.”
As Utah’s stay-home directive gets extended until May 1, Gborway can only patiently wait to get the green light to re-open business doors. He hopes that the spread of COVID-19 is reduced and public health orders allow for some normalcy to return. Otherwise, his night club business will continue to suffer financially every day it remains closed.
A COVID-19 health notice posted on the outside of Klub Deen.
Some other west-side business owners are more fortunate than others. Those who own or operate what Utah decides are “essential businesses” are still able to keep their workplaces open for now. Christine Mason — the owner of Rise by Good Day, a Polish grocery located in the same Poplar Grove neighborhood as Gborway’s club — is still running her store at this time. However, she has had to make drastic changes to the way she does business and she, too, has suffered near-catastrophic financial loss.
“When the shutdown started, I had to close down my catering business,” Mason said. “I lost 98% of my revenue stream with that alone.”
Mason said in a phone interview that times have been tough for the Polish grocery store. As the coronavirus put its grip on the economy nationwide and Utah Gov. Gary Herbert urged his state’s citizens to “stay home, stay safe,” Mason had to make modifications to her shop.
“We’re hanging in there. We’ve had to adapt since this has happened, and a lot less people have been walking into the store,” Mason said. “But we’ve just ordered sneeze guards and a new hand sanitizer station and we’re going to continue to stay open as long as we can. We’re just going to have to take this one day at a time.”
But it’s not all doom and gloom for Mason. She’s optimistic about the future. She just hired a new chef and plans to stay open as long as possible. “People still need food,” Mason said, and with that in mind she’s confident she can get through this crisis.
For business owners like Gborway and Mason, there’s not much else they can do besides wait and remain positive and adapt their businesses where they can. They do not know what the future will bring.
In the meantime, Salt Lake City’s nightclubs will stay closed hoping they can reopen soon, and food stores deemed “essential” will continue to strive to give their customers what they need. As Christine Mason put it, you can only take things now one day at a time. And as time goes by, sanguine west-side business owners along with an anxious nation are all doing just that.
A pre-pandemic photograph of Rise By Good Day in west Salt Lake City’s Poplar Grove neighborhood.
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