Last night my friend told me he wanted to buy a house in Uruguay for retirement. Interestingly, my first response was how I would miss my food. By that I meant access to it – granted it’s not easy now, but I still have some kind of access…living in DC, my mom mails me thousand year old eggs and various Taiwanese seasonings, I buy tofu from Harris Teeters, soy sauce from Trader Joes, and veggies from the Korean market down the street.
He scoffed at my response and said, “That’s so lame, I would never say, ‘oh I’m not ever going to live here because I can’t have my steak and potatoes’!”
It’s different, I said. You can get steak and potatoes practically anywhere. Food is everything for me – it is my culture, grounded by the environment, symbolic in traditions and a solid reminder of who I am. Birthdays we eat noodles, to symbolize long life. New Years we eat whole fish and sticky rice flour because 'sticky' in Mandarin also means year. Food is...language, gifts, celebrations, fears, medicine, longevity, pride, humility, hospitality, burden, abundance!!
How would he ever know?
That my parents sneak back an abundance of shoots in their suitcase from a visit in Tawian.
That in the sweltering summer it’s delightful chilled and dipped in sweet mayonnaise.
That the smell, taste, and first bite brings me back to my grandma’s house in Taipei.
That the leaves are used to wrap rice, the stems are used to treat infections.
That my kick-ass knitting needles (which I used to make him a scarf) are made out of bamboo.
He will never know, because it’s only now that I am just beginning to know...
Damn, I am becoming soooo Taiwanese!
