Food Blog

拌面 and 扁肉. Those were my favorite foods as a child. Living in China, not a day went by when I didn’t get my fill of it. Although my grandmother and mother would laugh at my obsession they would still comply with my wishes. My recollection of my childhood and few and blurred but I can still faintly remember the peanut buttery taste.

This is my daily meal. Breakfast: nothing. Lunch: salad. Dinner: steamed broccoli. Not that interesting but healthy I believe. Sometimes it gets switched up when my mother cooks. The amount of Chinese food (not the ones in take out restaurants) or non-western food I consume has decreased significantly.

My grandmother often comments on how I’ve changed since moving to America. According to her my extroverted personality has changed. She tells me about how I would dance everyday for the other adults. Currently, dancing is something I would never do. However food is what she talks about the most. “You don’t eat as much anymore, especially meat. You used to love eating meat!” During elementary school on vacations I’d visit my grandmother in New York and each time she’d cook lots and lots.

Primary school. It’s the one part of my life that I wish I had couldn’t remember. If possible I’d exchange it for a blank slate. Upon my arrival my English was limited and being the only Asian child in class it was always very awkward. Right after nap time, it was snack time. The other kids would take out their cookies and animal shaped crackers and chips all carefully packed into zip lock bag by their parents. From my bag I withdrew a red bag of small shrimp tailed chips. My snack was definitely different from the others.

“Where’s your snack?” I hated that question. When I stopped partaking in the ritual of eating after napping, my teacher began to give me her snacks. Although they were American and I would no longer be asked “what is that” I wasn’t satisfied with it.

Around middle school my grandmother began to predict the future. She would still cook a lot during our stay but just not as much as she used too. “Does it taste good? You’re American now. Would you rather eat pizza?” Although I repeatedly told her that it was fine she didn’t seem to believe me. “When you get older you’re going to get sick and tired of coming here. You’ll stop coming here.” I remember how I immediately denied that claim. Just the thought of it was enough to make me cry as child.

Since I started high school I’ve went to visit her about two or three times.

CGS is a really unique school. I never expected that there’d be school focusing on Asia and the Middle East and I never expected that there’d be so many students.

I always hated phone calls. They’re annoying and I never know what to say. My grandmother would call me a several times a months. How are you doing, is school fun, etc. She was particularly interested in health. “Did you eat yet? You have to eat properly. Make sure you don’t starve.”  My answers were either a “yes” or “okay”.

The only phone calls I ever receive now are from my father asking when I get out of school. I still think phone calls are a waste of time but those short conversations were nice.

Thanks to CGS I was able to study Chinese for two years, but I have yet to use it at home. When the thought of them laughing at my American accent and horrible pronunciation comes to mind I don’t really feel like showing them my improvement. However I am still Chinese, even though I’ve lost my mother tongue.

A couple months ago my mother asked me what my favorite food was. I told her I didn’t know because I didn’t. But whenever she makes拌面 I never reject it. A part of me still craves the peanut buttery taste from 13 years ago.