Once I’d bought the flight tickets, the first thing I asked Mom, ‘you’ll cook dinner for me, is that correct?’
She laughed, ‘I don’t cook so much now, always eating simple dinner.’
‘But I want to eat your food. For example, chicken wings and potatoes in curry sauce (咖喱薯仔雞翼), spare ribs stewed with chestnuts (栗子燜排骨), oh yes, don’t forget your signature dishes – Thai style shrimp cakes (泰式蝦餅), um….maybe one soup (煲湯), and a plate of mixed vegetables, something like that.’
‘How much can you guys eat? She felt perplexed, while in her mind she started to process which dish to cook, I bet.
Who doesn’t like Mom’s food? No matter how bad she cooks, if you eat it everyday, I guess you’ll find it the most comfortable food you’ve ever had.
Besides the Hong Kong-style home food, she can also make different kinds of bread, sweets, Chinese traditional and western snacks. Curry Boy especially likes my Mom’s handmade almond crisps, which he first tried when Mom gave him and his Indian family as a gift, and this time he requested them again. Of course, Mom wouldn’t disappoint him, making a big bag filled with lightly sugared, crispy almond biscuits.
I don’t know how Mom trained herself into a super home cook, maybe from Grandma, and with no doubt, she learned a lot from all sources you can name – YouTube, TV, cookbook, cooking class or some friends. She has a truly delicious Chinese turnip cake (蘿蔔糕) in a small notebook-sized paper. Only she knows where to find her recipes.
Since she has been living by herself, in a tiny flat where can serve max. 6 people, she has reduced her cooking time (compared to years ago). Whenever Curry Boy and I come back to visit, she can hardly invite my brother’s family at the same time, since there’s not enough space. But if we change the location to my brother’s house, which is much bigger, then Mom is not happy with their kitchen, claiming cooking there would make her feel dizzy, meaning, the whole family cannot enjoy Mom’s food together.
On the last night we stayed in Hong Kong, we were gonna able to enjoy Mom’s food for only one precious night.
Menu – Spare ribs and shiitake stewed with chestnuts (栗子冬菇燜排骨), Thai style shrimp cakes (泰式蝦餅), garlic stir-fry Chinese amaranth (蒜蓉炒莧菜) and Chinese yellow cucumber soup (老黃瓜湯).
In her tiny yet well-organised kitchen and limited utensils, she cooked the soup and stew in advance, made the shrimp cakes in two batches, washed the wok, then stir-fried the vegetables. Mom emphasised, ‘I make a lot of effort to cook this dinner.’
We could see. ‘We surely can clear all the dishes, don’t you worry!’ I reassured her.
But I don’t know how to review Mom’s food, like I usually do when I visit a restaurant. It’s simply tasty, healthy, my chopsticks never stop, my body knows what it wants. These are real good food full of love, cliché, but true. I wish I could have packed and carried some to the UK.
While we were discussing how to go back to the hotel, I proposed Mom could walk with us for a while, since my hotel was not far. She suddenly choked up, covered her mouth with both hands, eyes floating with tears and turned her back to us. Crying is contagious, as I couldn’t stand this scene and burst into tears too. I hugged her, put my head on her shoulder, it was a loving hug. Last time I saw Mom crying was the time she picked me up from the airport after I fled from the Fukushima earthquake. That’s more than 12 years ago.
Mom’s love for her daughter. That will never change.
Next time, Mom, come to the UK and I’ll cook you dinner.
(The end)
