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comfort fooding [potluck #2]
May. 30th, 2011 01:13 pm1. We can almost map out our family history with food. Some of the first memories I have of Taiwan are of sitting at my 外婆's kitchen table, eating 絲瓜 and 番薯 and pan-fried fish, sharing cans of shu pao in front of the living room fans to cool down, and how it was so different to eat the same things in my ama's house in 鳳山 with my dad's family. My dad will reminisce at night about 宵夜 with ama, my mom still drools over the 牛肉麵 she used to eat with her college friends, my sister adores 鹹魚茄子煲 (which I think she first had with our cousin), I still remember the time I woke in the night at my 三姨媽's house and stumbled into the kitchen to find her and 二舅母 in front of the fridge with a just-opened box of creampuffs.
2. When I got sick when I was little, my mom used to stir glasses of Sprite until the carbonation disappeared and give me a couple of slightly crumbled Saltines at a time whenever I woke feverish and nauseous. If I could keep those down, I could have 稀飯 with a little bit of salt the next morning, or- if I was feeling even better than that- with 魚鬆. This led to some perplexity when my non-Asian school friends told me about BRAT diets years later, and also some relief; I have never been particularly fond of applesauce, though I'll eat it.
3. An incomplete list of things I've developed cravings for over the years: 玉米 (so NOT the same as stateside corn), 芭樂, 蓮霧, 蚵仔煎, 烏魚子 (which I didn't like at first, and can still only take about two slices of at a time). Those cravings can't be completely fulfilled even by going back to Taiwan, simply because three of my grandparents are no longer there to share them with.
4. Living in Manhattan during and after undergrad was a great way to expand my culinary horizons, but it also made me recognize just how integral food is to my concept of home. I didn't actually move very far, and I've had countless amazing food adventures with friends (late-night Chicken & Rice treks, bo ssam at Momofuku, Picnic Garden in Flushing, brunch at Popover Cafe, and my former roommate R's quest for the best sushi in Manhattan, just to name a few), but sometimes what I wanted the most was my mom's haphazard noodle soups or experimental casseroles thrown together from a random assortment of things in the fridge.
5. I've realized that I don't so much rely on specific foods for comfort as I do on cooking and eating with specific groups of people. 火鍋 with my immediate family is different from 火鍋 with my relatives in Taiwan is different from hotpot with all the different permutations of my "usual suspects," friends from ballroom/undergrad. Dim sum with my "American grandma" is different from dim sum with my Chinese family friends (where there's never any explanation involved but the check-grabbing fights remain the same). Making far too much frosting with R- and burning my fingers on his molten chocolate cupcakes- for a birthday party we threw for a friend was different from my current adventures in baking, now that I'm living alone. These days it's not that the easiest cake ever is fast becoming a comfort food for me; it's comforting to make it even when I'm the only person eating it because I know I share that experience with so many of you.
2. When I got sick when I was little, my mom used to stir glasses of Sprite until the carbonation disappeared and give me a couple of slightly crumbled Saltines at a time whenever I woke feverish and nauseous. If I could keep those down, I could have 稀飯 with a little bit of salt the next morning, or- if I was feeling even better than that- with 魚鬆. This led to some perplexity when my non-Asian school friends told me about BRAT diets years later, and also some relief; I have never been particularly fond of applesauce, though I'll eat it.
3. An incomplete list of things I've developed cravings for over the years: 玉米 (so NOT the same as stateside corn), 芭樂, 蓮霧, 蚵仔煎, 烏魚子 (which I didn't like at first, and can still only take about two slices of at a time). Those cravings can't be completely fulfilled even by going back to Taiwan, simply because three of my grandparents are no longer there to share them with.
4. Living in Manhattan during and after undergrad was a great way to expand my culinary horizons, but it also made me recognize just how integral food is to my concept of home. I didn't actually move very far, and I've had countless amazing food adventures with friends (late-night Chicken & Rice treks, bo ssam at Momofuku, Picnic Garden in Flushing, brunch at Popover Cafe, and my former roommate R's quest for the best sushi in Manhattan, just to name a few), but sometimes what I wanted the most was my mom's haphazard noodle soups or experimental casseroles thrown together from a random assortment of things in the fridge.
5. I've realized that I don't so much rely on specific foods for comfort as I do on cooking and eating with specific groups of people. 火鍋 with my immediate family is different from 火鍋 with my relatives in Taiwan is different from hotpot with all the different permutations of my "usual suspects," friends from ballroom/undergrad. Dim sum with my "American grandma" is different from dim sum with my Chinese family friends (where there's never any explanation involved but the check-grabbing fights remain the same). Making far too much frosting with R- and burning my fingers on his molten chocolate cupcakes- for a birthday party we threw for a friend was different from my current adventures in baking, now that I'm living alone. These days it's not that the easiest cake ever is fast becoming a comfort food for me; it's comforting to make it even when I'm the only person eating it because I know I share that experience with so many of you.
