Grace Huang

Ms. Nichole Wilson

AP English Literature & Composition

15 January 2016

Food Memoir

                “We constantly use food to express not only who we are but also who we wish to be, asserting our membership in certain groups and distancing ourselves from others,” (Twiss 1) according to Katheryn Twiss. Not to usurp Twiss’s authority, but a teenager like myself could definitely give a few tips about how to distance themselves from certain groups (aka my parents).

                It is a typical Saturday afternoon. I lay sprawled on my bed where I have created a semicircle of chaos around me. My homework is softly calling my name, but my attention is broken by a figure in the doorway.

                “I’m leaving for my dumpling making party. Are you sure you don’t want to come?” my mother asks in Chinese.

                “Can’t. Too busy.” is my swift reply in English.

                She nods in affirmation, already knowing my answer before I give it. My mother and I have repeated this scene a dozen times. It always plays out the same way.

                The next Monday, as my classmates and I are regaling each other with tales of our weekend adventures, my friend tells an amusing story of how she recently tried to make homemade dumplings but failed to seal the meaty filling inside the dough. I can’t help but giggle although I reassure her that learning to fold dumplings is a skill acquired with practice. My mother had taught me just as her mother had taught her just as I offered to teach my friend.

                We set out to have our own dumpling making party the following weekend even inviting a few other friends. My clumsy fingers were unable to roll the dumpling shells from pieces of dough as nimbly as my mother could, so we problem solved by buying pre-packaged wonton wrappers from Kroger. The environment was lively and the laughter contagious as we prepared the meaty filling by blending the ground beef with the chopped vegetables seasoned with garlic and ginger. My friends gathered close as I taught them the secret of how to perfectly seal the meat within the dough to make the pale crescent shaped dumplings. One by one we dropped our carefully made dumplings into the pan, cracking a proud smile when we heard the sizzle sound as the doughy skin made contact with the oil. It is then that I decide to reveal my secret: I dislike the meaty insides so I only eat the shell.

                My weird way of eating dumplings was a bold move of defiance as a toddler that eventually became a peculiar habit of mine as I grew older; however I am not the first Chinese-American to eat dumplings in a peculiar way.  According to Lily Wong who eats her dumplings with ketchup, “Eating dumplings in my own style has become the hyphen between Chinese and American in my identity.” (Wong 1) Indeed, my dumpling party with my friends was just one more example of my cross cultural upbringing. I thought I was simply introducing my American friends to a small piece of my heritage, but little did I know, “From Italian ravioli, to Polish piroshky, to Chinese pot stickers, the humble dumpling is beloved by eaters around the world.” (Butler 1) Dumplings were multicultural before I even dreamed of having a dumpling party!

                The small size of dumplings, or jiaozi as they are known in China, make them the ideal finger food to cook and consume in large amounts with friends and family. Not only are they the perfect food for sharing, preparing dumplings together creates a sense of community I didn’t know was possible. “The techniques utilized to prepare and process foods and the ways of serving and consuming it...can have an important influence on social and familial relationships.” (Claxton 1).

It may have taken me a while, but now I can finally understand my mother just a little bit better. Through our common experience, I finally get it, why my mom is always going to dumplings parties. It’s a place where friends join together in common pursuit of a single goal: to prepare endless amounts of food for loved ones. In the spirit of mother daughter bonding, I may just join her next time.