Today Is The Day
How far back can one travel? What comes to mind when you think of the word childhood? Where does it begin and when will it end?
I had two very different childhoods; one that ended when I was about six and a half years-old in a country that was crushed by the fall of communism, the other began when my family and I jumped aboard a ship that took us to a place far, far away - to freedom, to the United States, to where I am today.
In childhood there should always be peace and happiness. I was a quiet and happy child in the country where I was born. Maybe I was too young to realize that there was a war in Viet Nam. Maybe I belonged to a more privileged class and was sheltered from the rage. I never knew hunger. I never knew sadness or fear.
Upon my return from Regina Mundi, a private school for girls, I would run right into the kitchen and asked our nanny for a treat. Anything, please! Ta Hu, a soybean custard drenched in sweet sugar syrup, or Che Ba Mau, literally pudding with three colors. I loved its taste. The pudding is a concoction of sweet cooked yellow mung beans, pink tapioca balls, and strips of green agar-agar; all of this atopped crushed ice and coconut milk. To eat the pudding, you would stir all the ingredients in the glass until they are enveloped in their own goodness and then spoon away! Mind you, I didn't always get what I wanted. Sometimes, in retaliation, I would sneak some ice cubes and sugar in a glass and stow away into a corner and devour my own little creation. Little did I know, I was cooking up something even then. Life was sweet again.
It is interesting how food is remembered most. I don't remember early childhood friends' names, or a lot of events, but I do remember all the tastes of my younger years with fondness and longing. A simple glass of sugar and ice becomes nostalgic and engraved forever in my mind.
My oldest son, who is eight, went on a fishing derby with his dad and the Cub Scouts back in April of this year. They came home with five fairly good sized trouts. A couple of rainbows, browns and one brook. The joy on their faces- both father and son. That evening, I cleaned the prized catches and drenched them in flour. In a hot pan with olive oil they fried and were served with a simple squeeze of lemon and topped with PONZU, a Japanese citrus soy sauce made with yuzu, a special Japanese citron. Its fragrance is intoxicating and refreshing all at once.
Although we thoroughly enjoyed our meal that evening, I never thought too much about it again until a few days ago when our son brought up the trouts. He said, "remember those fishes we caught? that was so delicious, wasn't it?" I agreed with him that yes, they were indeed delicious.
If you know me, which you soon will, you would know that I went to the seafood store the very next day, which was yesterday, and came home with two large trouts, and some skate. Couldn't help myself, the skates looked so fresh and they were beckonning to be bought.
When my son asked me what was for dinner, and I told him we were going to have a double fish meal which included the trouts, his eyes just lit up (is it me? or is it perfectly normal for an eight year-old to get excited over trout for dinner?) All I can say is we feed our kids everything, AND they love to eat everything.
I must explain that having a Viet Namese mom and a Japanese dad means pretty good eating!!! Last week we were at the beach with some friends. Our second son, who is heading into kindergarten next month, picked up a strand of strayed seaweed and asked if he could eat it. I had to laugh. After all, Konbu, is a major part of the Japanese diet!
I made the store-bought trouts in the exact same manner that I did when my son and husband came home with the fishes in their cooler box in early spring. I pan fried the skates and when they were nearly done, tossed in a handful of shallots and cooked them til they were caramelized. Then they were served over a pile of shiso leaves, picked fresh from our patch, with a semi-sweet tonkatsu sauce. I love how the heat of the fish wilts parts of the leaves when they land on the dish. What is tonkatsu sauce? that is a whole different story for another entry. Until then, think worcestershire with a kick a la Japonaise.
We had a wonderful dinner. Our youngest baby girl, who is almost 16 months old, kept saying "more!" I kid you not. I promise! Her first official word was CRACKER, and her second official word was MORE. She sat in her chair, shirtless, messily spooning baby brown rice cereal mixed with miso soup, and pointing to the skate. "MORE!" As good a cook as I am, she was, in actuality, most likely, referring to the tonkatsu sauce.
They are all asleep now. Well-fed with trout and skate; this evening's meal filed away in their special memory box.
Life, love, and food. What else is there? How can you have one without the other?
I had two very different childhoods; one that ended when I was about six and a half years-old in a country that was crushed by the fall of communism, the other began when my family and I jumped aboard a ship that took us to a place far, far away - to freedom, to the United States, to where I am today.
In childhood there should always be peace and happiness. I was a quiet and happy child in the country where I was born. Maybe I was too young to realize that there was a war in Viet Nam. Maybe I belonged to a more privileged class and was sheltered from the rage. I never knew hunger. I never knew sadness or fear.
Upon my return from Regina Mundi, a private school for girls, I would run right into the kitchen and asked our nanny for a treat. Anything, please! Ta Hu, a soybean custard drenched in sweet sugar syrup, or Che Ba Mau, literally pudding with three colors. I loved its taste. The pudding is a concoction of sweet cooked yellow mung beans, pink tapioca balls, and strips of green agar-agar; all of this atopped crushed ice and coconut milk. To eat the pudding, you would stir all the ingredients in the glass until they are enveloped in their own goodness and then spoon away! Mind you, I didn't always get what I wanted. Sometimes, in retaliation, I would sneak some ice cubes and sugar in a glass and stow away into a corner and devour my own little creation. Little did I know, I was cooking up something even then. Life was sweet again.
It is interesting how food is remembered most. I don't remember early childhood friends' names, or a lot of events, but I do remember all the tastes of my younger years with fondness and longing. A simple glass of sugar and ice becomes nostalgic and engraved forever in my mind.
My oldest son, who is eight, went on a fishing derby with his dad and the Cub Scouts back in April of this year. They came home with five fairly good sized trouts. A couple of rainbows, browns and one brook. The joy on their faces- both father and son. That evening, I cleaned the prized catches and drenched them in flour. In a hot pan with olive oil they fried and were served with a simple squeeze of lemon and topped with PONZU, a Japanese citrus soy sauce made with yuzu, a special Japanese citron. Its fragrance is intoxicating and refreshing all at once.
Although we thoroughly enjoyed our meal that evening, I never thought too much about it again until a few days ago when our son brought up the trouts. He said, "remember those fishes we caught? that was so delicious, wasn't it?" I agreed with him that yes, they were indeed delicious.
If you know me, which you soon will, you would know that I went to the seafood store the very next day, which was yesterday, and came home with two large trouts, and some skate. Couldn't help myself, the skates looked so fresh and they were beckonning to be bought.
When my son asked me what was for dinner, and I told him we were going to have a double fish meal which included the trouts, his eyes just lit up (is it me? or is it perfectly normal for an eight year-old to get excited over trout for dinner?) All I can say is we feed our kids everything, AND they love to eat everything.
I must explain that having a Viet Namese mom and a Japanese dad means pretty good eating!!! Last week we were at the beach with some friends. Our second son, who is heading into kindergarten next month, picked up a strand of strayed seaweed and asked if he could eat it. I had to laugh. After all, Konbu, is a major part of the Japanese diet!
I made the store-bought trouts in the exact same manner that I did when my son and husband came home with the fishes in their cooler box in early spring. I pan fried the skates and when they were nearly done, tossed in a handful of shallots and cooked them til they were caramelized. Then they were served over a pile of shiso leaves, picked fresh from our patch, with a semi-sweet tonkatsu sauce. I love how the heat of the fish wilts parts of the leaves when they land on the dish. What is tonkatsu sauce? that is a whole different story for another entry. Until then, think worcestershire with a kick a la Japonaise.
We had a wonderful dinner. Our youngest baby girl, who is almost 16 months old, kept saying "more!" I kid you not. I promise! Her first official word was CRACKER, and her second official word was MORE. She sat in her chair, shirtless, messily spooning baby brown rice cereal mixed with miso soup, and pointing to the skate. "MORE!" As good a cook as I am, she was, in actuality, most likely, referring to the tonkatsu sauce.
They are all asleep now. Well-fed with trout and skate; this evening's meal filed away in their special memory box.
Life, love, and food. What else is there? How can you have one without the other?
posted by cream cheese dreams at 10:13 PM
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