Story 1 of the 'Thinking Allowed' series
Written by MEGAN TAN

[recipe ingredients] … [ingredients repeated] What was she missing? Grandma’s eyes darted between the ingredients and the bowl, the uneasiness clouding her judgment. With the ticking of the clock counting her down, the only thing on her mind was finishing making this dish. She had made chinese cucumber salad a thousand times before and any other day she could’ve made it in her sleep, but right now, there was something missing and it was driving her mad trying to figure it out. But, the truth was, cucumber salad wasn’t the only thing on her mind. The underlying mixture of excitement, longing, and anxiety of seeing her daughter and granddaughter, Cindy, for the first time in over six years was present in all her thoughts, even if Grandma wasn’t fully conscious of it. Would Cindy like this or that? She’s not allergic to this and that. She needs to eat more. Is this enough food? Even when she didn't think it, she felt it throughout her body. She was clumsier than usual, using sugar instead of salt, and she was never clumsy in the kitchen. Her heart rate had been slightly elevated since the morning and she could hear it thumping louder as the time drew nearer.
The table looked like a game of tetris with half a dozen plates, ranging from grilled fish to steamed eggs, snuggly packed together to fit on the table. It would have been enough to feed well over ten people, but Grandma had to make just one more dish. It was her granddaughter’s favorite dish after all, or what she hoped would still be her favorite. Grandma goes through the list once more before opening up the spice cabinet. Sichuan peppercorn? No. Salt? Already added that. As she scans the assortment of spices and sauce bottles, they all start to blur together and she blames her aging eyes for failing her when she needed them. She blamed her age for a lot of things: for not being able to figure out facetime on her own and forgetting time zone differences; for not being able to connect to young grandchildren; for sometimes forgetting the faces of her grandchildren; for not being strong or healthy enough to fly on a plane. She didn’t want to burden her children or other family with her problems and she didn’t want people to take pity on her. She didn’t want to seem resentful for her daughter for moving to America or for not being to visit as often. It was quite the opposite, she was proud of her daughter for being able to build a life and being busy was proof of that. But, she was lonely and nothing would change the fact that she misses them and always will.
Grandma could hear the taunting of the clock in the background of her cluttered thoughts, reminding her of the impending time. She lets out a frustrated sigh and contemplates defeats. What if she no longer likes cucumbers? But what if she really wanted to eat this? As these thoughts consume her mind, Grandma is taken back to the last time Cindy visited.
Six years ago, Grandma was standing in this very spot when a small head that just barely reached the kitchen countertop appeared by her side. Grandma glanced over into the living room, the TV was on but no one was watching.
“Where’s mama?” Grandma asked.
“Sleeping.” A small Cindy pointed in the direction of the rooms.
And without another word, Cindy ran off and Grandma returned to making food. A few minutes later, Cindy was back with a small, red stool in her hand. She placed the stool next to Grandma and watched her Grandma’s skillful hands make lunch. Cindy, of course, was Grandma’s little taste tester. After an hour of cooking and taste testing, the two were down to their final dish: chinese cucumber salad. Once again, Grandma masterfully conjured up the perfect dish. Grandma laughed when she saw Cindy’s mouth wide open even before she picked up a cucumber for her to eat. From the very first bite, Grandma could tell Cindy was hooked. Cindy’s eyes widened over the flavors invading her taste buds. The taste was simple, yet refreshing, the perfect summer dish.
“Tasty?” Grandma asked with an amused smile.
Cindy frantically nodded her head and eagerly asked for more. Grandma told her to wait as they would be eating soon. But, looking towards the bedrooms, her sleeping daughter had yet to emerge. Grandma stalled for time by teaching Cindy how to make her new favorite dish. Grandma knew most likely than not that Cindy probably wouldn’t remember, but right now, her granddaughter looked so happy to learn. Grandma had accidently skipped over one ingredient, but little Cindy, having observed her Grandma, pointed at the remaining bottle and asked, “What’s that?” Grandma’s gaze followed the direction of her granddaughter’s finger until it landed on the bottle. Oh how could she forget. She was a bit embarrassed, but couldn’t help but feel pride over her observant granddaughter.
“Sesame oil.”
Sesame oil … sesame oil? The epiphany finally hit her.
“Sesame oil!”
Right at 2pm, the sound of the door bell echoes throughout the apartment. Rushing out of the kitchen, Grandma opens the door to find her long awaited guests. Her daughter immediately engulfs her into a hug. Finally, after six long years, mother and child are finally reunited. Peering over her daughter’s shoulder, she spots a not so little Cindy. The two make eye contact and Cindy gives her grandma a slight bow and flashes a smile, while waiting to be let in. The two women release each other from the hug and her daughter nudges Cindy forward into Grandma’s arm, while whispering something under her breath for Cindy to hear.
(bold = speaking in Chinese)
“Hello PoPo. I missed you. I hope you are in good health.” Cindy tells her Grandma.
Grandma could tell that her daughter told her to say that, but responded like all grandparents do,“Waaah, what a smart and respectful child. And so tall and beautiful too.”
After settling down, the three women sat around the table filled with an unproportionate amount of food. Even before Cindy picked up her chopsticks, Grandma had already piled up a little portion from every dish onto her granddaughter's bowl. Grandma would go back and forth filling her daughter’s bowl and granddaughter’s bowl, barely eating herself. They’ve lost weight. I need to make more delicious and nutritious food for them this summer. She thought to herself. When her daughter tried to do the same for her, Grandma would place even more food on her daughter’s plate.
“Neoi Neoi, this is all for you and Cindy. Your daughter is all skin and bones.”
The two would go back and forth on this before Grandma changed the topic. As the two were catching up, Cindy sat there quietly eating. Cindy would reply with one word answers or smile when her Grandma asked her something. Grandma loved talking to her daughter, but she also wanted to connect with her granddaughter. Grandma noticed that Cindy would speak a mix of English and Chinese with her mom, but with her limited English vocabulary, there was a further disconnect between grandparent and grandchild.
The only way Grandma knew how to translate her love was through food, so when she saw Cindy’s empty bowl, she asked, “More rice?”
Cindy tries to politely decline and tell her grandma she was full.
“More rice.” Grandma decides, leaving no room for argument.
When Grandma walks into the kitchen, she spots the cucumber salad she had forgotten to take to the table when the doorbell rang. Grandma had been all over the place today and felt silly for forgetting the one thing that was antagonizing her all morning. She brought out a fresh bowl of rice and cucumber salad, placing them both in front of Cindy.
“Look Cindy, PoPo made your favorite. What do you say?”
“Thank you, PoPo.”
Grandma glances over to see Cindy’s reaction, but can’t pinpoint her exact emotion. Oh no, maybe she actually doesn’t like it anymore. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have made something else. I should have asked her mom what her favorite food was. But then, her eyes light up like it did six years ago.
“This is really good. Better than how mama makes it.” Cindy announces. Grandma can’t help but let out a chuckle.
Cindy’s mom suggests to Cindy, “You should ask PoPo how to make it.” Then turns toward her mom,“Mommy, Cindy is learning how to cook. Cindy tell her what you can make.”
“Oh …” Cindy looks to her mom for help. “Umm how do you say pasta in Chinese?”
“Pasta” her mom replies.
“Okay.” There’s a slight pause, before Cindy speaks again, “PoPo I can make pasta and rice and salmon and … yeah …”
“Wow, so smart.” Grandma praises.
“Ma you should teach Cindy how to cook this summer.”
Why didn’t Grandma think of this earlier? Of course! Food, food was how they always connected. Without wasting a second, Grandma brags about how she makes the best cucumber salad. As she begins listing all the ingredients, she once again finds herself stumped on the last thing.
“and and …”
“Sesame oil?” her granddaughter guesses.
Grandma looks to her granddaughter fondly before responding, “Sesame oil.”
This series, 'Thinking Allowed', is about visiting family you haven’t seen in a while told through the eyes of three different generations. Each issue dives into the inner turmoil of each generation and highlights the feelings the AAPI community are “taught” not to express. It’s a story about the anxiety of feeling disconnected to people who you feel should be close to, but at the same time, a tale of connection. Many in the AAPI community can relate to the story of a family separated by a generational barrier, a language barrier, or a physical barrier.
Read more about the series by clicking here.
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