The Memory Menu

Every holiday meal is special because it forges new memories and strengthens the bonds that connect us to the ones we hold most dear. I have always enjoyed the company around my family's table. It didn't matter what we were eating as long as we were laughing - and we usually were. However, there was one special, labor intensive, treat that would appear only on minor holidays and birthdays. The egg roll.

The meal began long before the egg rolls were ever cooked. Mom and dad would go out shopping, and then dad would spend time in the kitchen preparing the filling. When it was cool enough he would summon the rest of the family and we would sit together to roll the tasty treasures. I can't remember a specific conversation, but I still savor the memories we all created together.

The egg rolls themselves were locally known. My dad would bring them into his dojo on special occasions and share them with his students. For Christmas, he froze a batch and sent them in the mail to one of my uncles who had requested them. They weren't filled with the same nondescript meat and veggies that came with mass produced egg rolls. Everything was identifiable - carefully prepared with the same love that bonded our family.

When I became a cook I included them as specials in two different locations. They sold out both times, and were repeatedly requested. Each time I made them I thought about the memories and I imagined infusing each egg roll with the same love that I was blessed with. I even adapted the recipe into a soup - although it wasn't as good!

My dad passed away in 2016, and I carry his recipe in my heart - and all of the good times that came with it. My mother, sister and I took advantage of one of the times we were reunited to continue the tradition of making and cooking them together. I would love to cook them at every reunion. For me, they are more than a food. They are a fond memory, and a way of invoking the closeness and affection that I feel for my loved ones. No other egg roll will ever taste the same. I can never go to a restaurant and order them off of a menu. Even if I gave the chef the recipe and they followed it precisely. I know that there are other recipes that come with the same memories and love.

Posole is a great example. Whenever I made it in a commercial kitchen and had one of the other chefs try it, they would say, "It doesn't taste like my grandma's," and I would say, "I'm not your grandma!"

It could be the best posole that existed, but because it wasn't made by their grandma it would never be good enough. And I can't be offended, because it doesn't matter how good someone else's egg roll recipe is. If my family didn't make it then it just isn't perfect the way it would have been if we all sat down and spent the time together.

Good food isn't just about the ingredients. It's the company that you have from start to finish. From the first slice of a knife to the scent of childhood memories wafting from the kitchen. Cooking is about community and caring for each other. As the skill is lost I wonder how future generations will connect. Food can be mass produced. But the connection, kindness and care that comes from preparing it together can't be made in a factory.