Dumpling Love

Grandma Ng Swee Ling pottered around in the too-hot kitchen of her Jurong HDB residence, tucked away in the western region of Sunny Singapore. As usual, her well-worn hands were busy melding together rice dumplings filled with tender chunks of roasted meat for Duan Wu Jie, or the Dumpling Festival, celebrated by the Chinese each time the summer solstice set in.

Grandma was renowned for the scrumptious pork dumplings she took hours to create. Neighbours would clamour for these delectables, placing orders for them a month before the Dumpling Festival. Grandma's family, of course, took tremendous delight in them, stuffing themselves with the concoctions every June, wolfing them greedily whenever she placed them on the dinner table. Of course, they ate rather than made them.

"Eat! Eat!," Grandma Ng would say. Everyone obeyed dutifully.

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Eating dumplings, or zong zi, of course, wasn't a tradition born out of the blue. The most popular legend surrounding it surrounds the statesman Qu Yan (348 - 248 B.C) who fought against corruption during the warring states. Not only did officials not heed his advice, they summarily exiled him. Despondent, he drowned himself in the Miluo river. Although he failed in his attempt to stamp out corruption, he won the admiration of the people, who threw dumplings into the river to prevent fish and other creatures from eating his body.

And stellar cooks like Grandma Ng continued the tradition in earnest. She would boil the rice for the dumplings and painstakingly stuff them with stewed pork. She would then bundle them lovingly as gifts for relatives and friends.

"Zong zi for all," she would say with her characteristic generosity, which no one minded.

The only point of contention over the dumplings came when Grandma tried to get her daughter, Xiu Mei, to learn to make and package the dumplings. "Mom, do we have to make them? We can easily get these from the supermarket," she would wail.

"Yes, we can, but they won't be as good as those that are homemade."Grandma would retort, eyes filled with disappointment at her daughter's disinterest

Everything was status quo till a stroke decided to pay Grandma an unwanted visit. She passed away quietly, surrounded by loved ones at home. Her funeral, though, was an elaborate affair.

Complete with an ornate Taoist altar, everyone recited prayers for the deceased. Friends and relatives paid her final respects. The whole of Jurong had turned up for the funeral. No one noticed an attractive, beautiful butterfly with multicoloured wings hovering at the corner of the ceiling. The little insect watched the family as they observed the rituals, wings fluttering in sadness.

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June rolled around again, and the family missed Grandma and her dumplings. Ng Xiu Mei, now the matriarch of the family, noticed her children's sadness.

"Why won't you eat?" she tried to cajole her son, David.

"Some of my classmates brought dumplings to school today. I was upset thinking about how grandma used to give me one to take to school every time she made them. That won't happen again," Tears dotted the corners of his eyes.

Xiumei didn't know how to answer the boy. She heaped a helping of rice onto his plate, which he ignored. The rest of the family continued dinner in silence.

Again, no one noticed the same multicolored butterfly hovering over the potted plants on the balcony. It overlooked the dinner, finding it difficult to fly away.

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Over the next few days, XiuMei tried to recreate her mother's recipe. She knew that the dumplings she concocted wouldn't be as good as her mothers', but David had to eat.

She put them on the dinner table and watched with trepidation as David unwrapped one.

"Mom," he paused and gazed at her.

"Why?" she asked. "Is something wrong? I took hours to make these!"

"No," the boy bit into his dumpling with gusto."It's like Grandma all over again."

The dumplings indeed turned out to be a hit, with neighbours placing orders as they did before.

The multicoloured butterfly hovered on the balcony for the last time, finally flying away, its wings fluttering with brilliance in the wind.