Ganbei Fall 2020 Nostalgia

CHAPTER 3
The
Ingredients
of a Homecooked
Meal
I grew up as a chubby child: my
late grandmother spoiled me with
carefully crafted home-cooked
meals. I spent much of my time
keeping her company in the kitchen,
staring in awe as she lay an
uncountable number of ingredients
into our soon-to-be supper. Sneaking
bites of a fragrant dish while setting
the table only to be scolded by her
with a laugh – “ 肥 仔 !” (féi zǐ, chubby
boy) – was a daily occurrence.
Entering my newly leased apartment
this Fall, I realized a novel privilege
and responsibility: owning a kitchen
with two of my closest friends,
Nelson and Alex. As a food-lover
with tastebuds my grandmother
herself molded, I had a hefty goal
in mind: to cook dishes that would
make those buds – and my human
buds – happy. Admittedly, these
past few months only resulted
in flavors that don’t even come
close to the magic she produced,
but they still remind me of home.
Home with my grandmother feels
like something I lived but didn’t
fully live; something I knew was
important but didn’t grant enough
importance to; something I want
to live again to the extent offered
in those precious hours, but originally
refused. It was a home where
外 婆 (wài pó, grandmother) gently
handled her chopsticks with fragile,
weathered hands to place a piece
of my favorite dish in my rice bowl.
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