On Food, Love, and Family
Last night, I had the chance to be on stage with a bunch of talented, local authors for an incredible event titled “What We Talk About When We Talk About Food.” It was put on by Kim Ricketts, and moderated by author Kathleen Flinn. We were asked to prepare a reading for the crowd. I decided to write about my parents.
Here’s the essay.
***
My parents met in the fall of 1981, at a small party with friends. My mom wore a white dress. “She was shy and quiet because she couldn’t speak English very well,” my dad tells me fondly. A slow smile spreads across his face as he savors the memory. “I asked her out to dinner, just a cheap meal. We were young; I didn’t have a lot of money. I had rice. She had noodles. I remember.”
Three months later, they were married. “I already knew your mom was the one for me the night I met her,” my dad says. “Why would I want to wait any longer to start the rest of my life?”
The short, simple story of how my parents met is one my siblings and I have grown up hearing—a fluid tale where the details have long fallen away and the particulars forgotten. “I was wearing a pink dress, and you ordered dumplings,” my mom might say one night with mock indignation. “When we met at the party, your mom was actually on a date with another guy. But she couldn’t resist me because I was so charming!” my dad might joke on another.
Much of what I’ve learned about food and love, I learned from my parents. We ate dinner as a family every night. But on weekends, when the idle hours stretched long, my parents would cook together, happy in the kitchen. There’d always be a whole fish on the table, stuffed with a smattering of ginger and scallion, its skin puckering from the hot lash of oil. My mom would cradle dabs of minced pork in tiny purses made of beaten egg, then fry the parcels in her wok. Next, a plate of carefully shingled shitakes would emerge, each dark cap gleaming from its bubbly braise. Finally, after a few meaty thwacks of the cleaver, a platter of Cantonese roast pork would arrive. Each succulent piece shouldered a crackle-crisp bit of skin. This was always my favorite part. My siblings and I would sigh contently, loosen our waistbands, and try to eat a little more.
My parents have always delighted in food, and in each other. “We are going on a date. We are going grocery shopping!” my mom would crow every Sunday, swiping on lipstick. “The chicken at this restaurant is good,” my dad would say, inspecting the morsel between his chopsticks, “But make no mistake–your mom makes the best!” In the evening, mom would sit at the table with her Chinese newspaper and pen, circling all the new restaurants she wanted to try. My dad would sit beside her, nodding every so often as she yammered on, recollecting the merits of this restaurant’s wontons, that bakery’s egg tarts. My dad would make some tea.
In this way, twenty-five years passed. Twenty-five meandering, modest, but happy years.
My dad has been in steel fabrication for as long as I can remember. On Christmas Eve in 2006, a steel beam, weighing about 100 pounds, unhinged in a freak accident. It swooped and swung through the air, knocking my dad out of the hydraulic jack. His co-workers found him unconscious, his hard hat cracked in half. He was in the hospital for a long time. Night after night, my mom’s rice bowl remained untouched. After a silent dinner, she would empty it with a dull and resolute thud into the garbage, a blank stare on her face.
When my dad regained consciousness, the doctor told us he had suffered irreparable brain damage. It took months for him to learn the alphabet again, let alone how to read. When asked to sign a check at the bank, he’d carefully print his name in large, block letters, screwing up his lip with the same fierce concentration only second-graders know. “Your dad is miss you very much,” my mom writes to me in her broken English. “All our kids gone now, grown-up! I only cook a little at dinner.”
She didn’t say it, but the longing was there.
On my last visit home, there were eight of us around the table—my sister, my brother, and all of our significant others. My mom made braised beef shank and tofu knots, simmered in a heady blend of spices and soy. She dished up jade leeks sizzled with Hunan bacon, their browned edges curling from the hot, smoky fat. Moist, hand-shredded, chicken, bathed in gingery, green onion oil. Ground pork blistered with Szechuan peppercorns. My dad looked at us gathered around, eating, chatting. One big happy family. He made my mom a cup of tea, then curled his weathered hand over hers. “Did I ever tell you kids about the first time I met your mother?” he said, leaning back in his chair. A slow smiles spreads across his face as he savors the memory. “We were at a party. I think she was on a date with another guy but I was so charming, she just couldn’t resist me. She was wearing a yellow dress…”
The mind is a funny thing. It yearns to remember what’s important. After dinner, my parents go for a walk, leaning into one another like only a couple who has weathered almost thirty years together do.
My dad has one hand on his cane, the other around my mother’s waist.
She had two bowls of rice that night.
Posted: May 22nd, 2010 under Uncategorized.
Tags: essay, family
Comments
Comment from andifoo
Time May 22, 2010 at 8:53 AM
What a lovely example your parents have provided for their children and their families. That’s what a marriage should be.
Comment from Karen C.
Time May 22, 2010 at 8:54 AM
*sniff* That was so beautiful.
Comment from kamran siddiqi
Time May 22, 2010 at 8:58 AM
Lorna, what an amazing tribute to your parents! Rock on! 
Comment from barbara
Time May 22, 2010 at 9:05 AM
That is such a lovely post. Thank you for sharing.
Comment from LunaCafe
Time May 22, 2010 at 9:11 AM
Incredibly moving! Your writing is exquisite. I love your family!
Comment from Janna
Time May 22, 2010 at 9:21 AM
So tender and close to your heart. I loved reading your story, Lorna.
What resonated most: “the mind yearns to remember what’s important.” So true. Like your parents, my Mom and Dad’s tale always tells a different note, from the eyes of the story-teller.
Comment from sara
Time May 22, 2010 at 9:30 AM
What a beautiful, heartwarming story! Thank you for sharing.
Comment from Katie
Time May 22, 2010 at 9:32 AM
That was so incredibly beautiful. I got goose bumps while reading it.
Comment from Ashley
Time May 22, 2010 at 12:04 PM
Wow Lorna. This piece is incredible. Their love is inspiring and your words honor their relationship. Thank you for sharing. I can see why everyone was in tears last night!
Comment from Carrie Oliver
Time May 22, 2010 at 1:03 PM
Lorna, now I know why I saw people commenting that the room was in tears. What a beautiful story and so well told. It sounds to me as if your dad is right, he was to charming to resist.
Comment from Su-Lin
Time May 22, 2010 at 1:09 PM
That was beautiful and like others, I have tears in my eyes. It’s so lovely and touching to see one’s parents so happy together.
Comment from Brenda
Time May 22, 2010 at 1:39 PM
You made me tear up a little. Your parents sound wonderful.
Comment from Ori Swicz
Time May 22, 2010 at 3:02 PM
Loved this one… almost made me cry… That’s the example of couple I have in mind.
Thanks for sharing this beautiful story. I can’t tell you how this has touched me. Thanls again.
Comment from Carolyn
Time May 22, 2010 at 3:42 PM
I have both tears and goosebumps. Beautiful story.
Comment from Genie
Time May 22, 2010 at 4:06 PM
I’m totally teary-eyed and smiling, Lorna — this is so lovely. So very, very lovely.
Comment from Sharon Miro
Time May 22, 2010 at 4:26 PM
Well done. Thanks for the reminder of what I miss the most about my parents.
Comment from Jenny
Time May 22, 2010 at 4:28 PM
Bravo, Lorna. I’m standing on this cold streetcorner crying. You really hit a nerve there.
Comment from Jacqueilne Church
Time May 22, 2010 at 5:25 PM
How lucky for your parents that they found each other. Beautifully told – you have a gift – both of observation and of storytelling. Thank you for sharing such an intimate and touching story. It’s a great way to honor your parents.
Comment from David Kim
Time May 22, 2010 at 5:26 PM
Thank you for sharing that story. It’s very heart warming.
Comment from Britt
Time May 22, 2010 at 5:48 PM
Such a beautiful story, Lorna–I’m teary! Your parents are a lovely couple.
Comment from heidih
Time May 22, 2010 at 6:13 PM
Thank you! OMG you look just like your beautiful mom.
Comment from Kirsten
Time May 22, 2010 at 7:09 PM
This brought tears to my eyes.
Comment from Tara
Time May 22, 2010 at 7:18 PM
Wow, what a powerful story. So glad I saw all the Twitter RT’s today – I’m glad I came over here!
Comment from Jackie Baisa
Time May 22, 2010 at 10:11 PM
That the kind of love we all strive for, and your parents have it. I love it! I’m happy after reading this. I heard about this story from those who were there last night; I couldn’t make it. So, thanks for posting it here. It’s beautiful.
Comment from Wizzythestick
Time May 23, 2010 at 6:00 AM
Food and fond memories the two are inextricably linked. Beautifuf story
Comment from Susan
Time May 23, 2010 at 6:55 AM
Thank you for sharing your lovely story of family, tradition and food. Not only do you share your mother’s gift for cooking, but you’re a talented writer as well.
Pingback from eyes wide, heart beating fast « mismatched
Time May 23, 2010 at 6:57 AM
[...] 23, 2010 · Leave a Comment Yesterday, shortly before an uncomfortable second date, I read this and teared up a little. Not only because the story is so beautifully written, but also because it [...]
Comment from Nurit – 1 family. friendly. food.
Time May 23, 2010 at 8:03 AM
You’re so lucky to have such parents.
Comment from Carla
Time May 23, 2010 at 9:35 AM
I am in tears, too. Thank you for sharing this story of love and food and family.
Comment from loni
Time May 23, 2010 at 9:52 AM
LOVE THIS! i agree with henry, this is one of the best things you have ever written! we are so lucky to have parents who love us and each other so much!
Comment from Stacy
Time May 23, 2010 at 10:34 AM
That was so beautiful. Add me to the teary-eyed tally.
Comment from Ben
Time May 23, 2010 at 1:55 PM
A fantastic story
Comment from Miss Stovetop
Time May 24, 2010 at 3:50 AM
Awww… Call me silly, but I’ve started crying 
Comment from zurin
Time May 24, 2010 at 8:16 AM
So very beautiful ..a relationship some people can only dream of……
Comment from San
Time May 24, 2010 at 8:50 AM
Just found your blog and love it.
This story is amazingly told. You have very lovely parents. Glad that your Dad has recovered so far.
Have a lovely week.
Comment from Denise | Chez Danisse
Time May 24, 2010 at 9:28 AM
What a moving story. Such a beautiful relationship! Thank you for sharing this with us.
Comment from Judith R. Gordon
Time May 24, 2010 at 11:30 AM
What a beautiful and moving story. I can still feel the tears running down my cheeks….
Comment from Renée
Time May 24, 2010 at 9:12 PM
Lorna, this was elegantly and eloquently written. An absolutely beautiful tribute to a very special couple who obviously mean the world to you. Thank you for sharing your story and your gift. This is probably one of my favourite pieces you’ve written too.
Comment from amy d
Time May 25, 2010 at 7:06 AM
this is beautiful, lorna. unprepared, i’m sitting here crying into my coffee! love is a wonderful thing.
Comment from Nurit – 1 family. friendly. food.
Time May 27, 2010 at 10:42 AM
I loved this story so much! I can’t tell such a story about my parents, but hopefully my kids will.
I’ll be linking to this post in my upcoming post about family.
Comment from heidileon
Time June 1, 2010 at 9:23 PM
Lorna, this story, your parents story is so beautiful. I was already on tears at the middle of it.
You are so right girl, after all, the mind (and the heart) remember and keeps what is essential to us.
I hope your parents stay like this for many years, and I wish you and your Mom keep preparing two bowls of rice every night.
Comment from lorna
Time June 1, 2010 at 9:50 PM
Everyone, thank-you once again. Our family is very lucky to still have my dad here with us, and my siblings and I are very lucky to have such wonderful parents.
Comment from DessertForTwo
Time June 11, 2010 at 1:43 PM
What a beautiful story. Thanks so much for sharing!
Comment from Lauren
Time May 22, 2010 at 8:45 AM
Beautiful. Just beautiful Lorna.