When you cross your eyes as a child, your mother would warn you that they will stay like that. I think that's what happened to tiger moms, too. They kept thier eyes critical for too long, and now they're permanently stuck on scrutinize.
When dwelling in the den, be prepared for unrealistic expectations. Expecting a six year-old to do long division was almost as "reasonable" as California's former ban on foie gras. After two years in a Golden State of deprivation, I was craving foie gras almost as much as six year-old me craved a playdate where I didn't have to do math. Each piece of Foie Gras is perfectly seared and bursts in the mouth, spreading a savor that smothers the tastebuds even more than helicopter parents. When contrasted with a Sauternes that tastes as sweet as five fleeting minutes in front of the TV, the combination is unstoppable.
The den of the tiger mom is never quiet. If the sound of scratching pencils and rustling paper isn't there, expect to hear the crucial chords of the sixth symphony by [insert name of famous composer here] because, obviously, you've mastered the other five. You will do what everyone else's kids do, but you will do it better. And while plenty of kids do quail, Second Empire does it better. The Pan-Roasted Moroccan Spice Georgia Quail is tender with a capital "T", tempered by moisture-locking crispy skin topping a manic mix of pickled turnips, grainy hummus, and a smooth Greek yogurt sauce.
I don't always like my tiger mom, but I do love my tiger mom. Her methods weren't ideal, but her heart was always in the right place. A lot of people crack under tiger-mom pressure, but if you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen. I don't always like swordfish either but I do love the Citrus Grilled Latin Spice Swordfish at Second Empire. Swordfish is often bland and possesses a propensity to turn to rubber with even the slightest sear, it's rarely my first choice. But this swordfish can clearly take the heat. The fish was firm but still soft and seamlessly seasoned, a salty spackle with a little sass.
It's easy to complain about having a tiger mom, but it isn't always a bad thing. The inability to accept compliments will plague you for the entirety of your adult life, but while you're starved for praise, you'll never hunger for food. When my mother cooks, her portions put Second Empire to shame. And believe me, that's really saying something. We shared everything at dinner, and all of my packed-plate photos are actually only halves. Just imagine what a full portion of the melt-in-your-mouth-medium-
The ultimate upside of having a tiger mom is the genes you inherit, and my tiger mom is timeless. She may spend as much time on her skin as the Empire Chocolate Souffle takes to be baked-to-order, but a porcelain complexion as smooth as the chantilly cream is worth every extra minute.