01/23: Unspoken connections

For my brother Ken, it’s always the lemon meringue pie.  Not that he doesn’t like other desserts in my repertoire–he’ll dig a flourless chocolate torte–but when it comes to his birthday, it has to be that pie.  Ask my nephew Justin and he’ll probably say his favorite was the pie-plate sized butterscotch creme brulee.  Mom?  Well that’s a toss up between chestnut creme cake and banana bread.  And, she has a curious way of letting me know when she has a hankerin’ for either one.

For instance, she’ll call me up to inform me that she just happened to buy a bunch of chestnuts from Chinatown and spent an inordinate amount of time patiently boiling, roasting, then peeling them.  I don’t bother asking her if they were tasty, because I know damn well she hasn’t really eaten any of them.  No, the sole purpose of her call, even if she doesn’t come right out and request it, is to have me turn her handy work into a lovely vanilla chiffon cake layered with chestnut creme.  So, I tell her to put the chestnuts in the freezer and I’ll make her the cake when I see her next.  Now, if she’s really impatient (which she usually is), Mom won’t even bother letting me get that far into the conversation.  She’ll just tell me that she’s taking the bus (two of them no less) to drop off the said chestnuts at my doorstep.  Way to work the guilt!

Mom and I don’t really talk much.  Sadly, we’ve never had a particularly close relationship, and I don’t think it is so much to do with the language barrier–I’m woefully inept at conversational Cantonese.  My late father spoke less English but we somehow managed to bridge that gap and forged a special bond that only fathers and their little girls share.  So food is how my mom and I communicate, how we let each other know we care about each other.  She makes fabulous bbq pork jerky and sticky rice in lotus leaf, among other traditional delicacies.  I make chestnut creme cake, banana bread, and chocolate chip cookies.  It’s the way we’ve learn to connect with each other, and also to others.

I suppose you can say it is the reason why I do what I do for a living.  More than anything else I’ve ever done, cooking and baking has been the most professionally and emotionally gratifying because the response is immediate, visceral–it goes straight from the taste buds and stomach straight to the brain and heart of the recipient.  Whenever I’m at a lost for words or want to go beyond words, I always fall back on food.  This was definitely the case when I was younger and much too insecure about my ability to interact well in social situations (chalk it up to a really long geeky adolescence).  My way to impress, to break the ice was cook or bake something–a fruit tart for the office, churros for the neighbors, fresh apple pie for potential in-laws (great folks, wrong guy), over-the-top assortment of Christmas cookies for boyfriend’s family (again, great folks, dead-end guy).  Okay, so I may not have been the life of the party, but my chocolate graduation cake made me feel less of a fourteen-year-old wallflower with a bad perm and uncool clothes.

I have more or less outgrown alot of my insecurities.  God knows I’ve had over forty some odd years to accept and embrace my inner geek.  I still, however, find it comforting to use food as a means of bridging gaps, because after all it is the common language we all speak.

Posted January 23rd, 2010

Comments are closed.