Rice dreams and ice cream

Noony flashback…

One day I found Mom sitting on the floor, at the low table where we ate all our meals, the one with the elaborate mother-of-pearl inlay of peacocks.  She bought it from one of the Asian markets in the International Village.  It sits in her house today, and she still eats most of her meals there, though she has a Western dining room table now.  When I go home, this is where she serves me eggs over easy and pho.  

Don’t Burn the Rice Pot

My childhood memories of food are mostly heartwarming and pleasant.  Certain recipes remind me of home; certain smells stir up overwhelming emotions.  For this reason, a lot of my articles will end up being about food.

But not all of my experiences have been positive.