The Contingency Plan

I've been thinking about my mother lately and how our bond has always evolved around shopping and cooking - two things we do very differently now.

When I was young we'd spend hours cooking together. My job each day was to finish my homework (no TV allowed) and then help her prepare and cook dinner, clean up afterwards and make the next day's lunches.

Mum only ever had two cookbooks, both of which I now posses. One is for biscuits, the other for cakes. The rest of her meals she just knew.

I remember the way we'd start the process. I'd wash the rice until the water was nearly clear, place my index finger ontop of the rice and fill the pot with water until it reached my first knuckle. It then went on the stove to boil and the heat was then turned right down and it was steamed.

And the rest had a rough routine too - chop garlic, heat the wok until it's hot, add oil and then the garlic once the oil is hot. You can't add the oil in the beginning because it heats faster than the wok and will end up burnt.

I also recall my favourites: chinese cabbage in vinegar; spinach in oyster sauce; stirfry beef, peas and carrot; or red capsicum, chicken and onion; seaweed; dahl, curry and rice; steamed fish with garlic and ginger; tofu; crab soup, sweet and sour soup; and the pinnacle of all, dumplings.

Every component of the dumplings (called jiaozi as mum's family is from northern China) was made from scratch and took hours.

Flour and water for dough, kneading the dough, letting it rest, rolling each portion into a snake-like formation then chopping it into small disc-like pieces, rolling each one out with a rolling pin to resemble the sun - fat in the middle and splayed out on the edges. The filling would be a mixture of meat and a selection of finely chopped herbs. There's such a art of the process that I've only been allowed to participate a handfull of times. I wasn't for children. I could only watch.

Mum would boil the dumplings (leftovers were later fried until the dough was crispy), and we'd dip the steamy, creamy, white results in a black sauce of soy, sesame oil, finely chopped garlic and vinegar.

As a result of my years of 'wife training' I've grown to develop a love and knack for cooking. It was something the girls in the house had to know (my brother doesn't even know how to boil and egg). I remember holding dinner parties throughout my teens and cooking delicious meals for 10-15 people quite effortlessly.

On the weekends our house was always full of visitors over to taste Mum's cooking and laugh at the funny and open conversation of my parents, whether it was guys from dad's kung fu school, Mum's Chinese chatterbox crew or randoms Dad invited over from church (practically anyone who accepted). My sisters and I were subsequently always in the kitchen. No one would dare complain as we were just too scared of Mum to try.

It's been nearly seven years since I've shared a roof with my mother and in these passing days I've forgotten all of her ways with a wok. Ask me how to cook any of her many dishes and I just can't remember. My love for cooking and entertaining is still strong but I'm more likely to make cannelloni these days over dumplings.

I try to pretend it's not all bad as my repetoire has expanded, but who am I kidding? The loss of her epicuriean art (and our bond) is sad.

Sometimes, in a quick and simplistic way, I think it's because she was/is never open to the sharing our two worlds, prefering me to sit by the sidelines and watch, never allowing me a voice.

That food all sounds delicious! I'm so hungry now. I can't imagine ever spending that much time in a kitchen, though I'm sure the results are well worth it.

Oh, Kazumi, that is a wonderful post.

I was watching Chinese-American TV chef Ming Tsai one time and he described the method you wrote about to put the water in the rice. I guess it doesn't matter the size of the person's hand, it always works out.

In April we had a dumpling party. There were 30 Chinese here and one gwielo (me!). They did everything just as you described. All these people could fill the dumplings to quickly! By the time I did one, a Chinese person had done 4 or 5. But it was alot of fun and I really enjoyed it. We are going to Canada to see the Citizen's family and I imagine we may do the same thing at my in-law's apartment.

I tried to learn my mother-in-law's recipes when she was here. My husband had to translate! I did learn to make the ribs with soy sauce but when I tried the stuffed eggplant myself it didn't turn out so good!

I think you should re-learn your mother's recipes. I remember asking my grandmother about some of her recipes more than about 15 years before she died. My mother has some of my grandmother's cookie recipes. Recipes can be family hierlooms just like jewelry, dishes or other material things.

Yes, you're right Bente, the results were worth it!

Nice point about the heirlooms Junebee.

Hm. I'm thinking of having a Chinese New Year party now... fun! What a perfect excuse to play some mahjong, invite friends over and re-learn some of Mum's recipes.

I came back to read this again since I enjoyed it so much earlier today.

Maybe your relationship with your mom is not what you hoped it would be. Maybe if you ask her about her old recipes she would feel appreciated. The Citizen said that is the thing with his mother, she just wants to be acknowledged and appreciated. She was the last daughter of the last wife so she had little status growing up and the Citizen said that is why she is the way she is. Which is sort of complex
but that's another post.

Thanks Junebee, I'm so pleased you like the post.

I know my relationship with Mum isn't all I want it to be. I've analysed it, tried to change me, change her, but have realised that it's just the way it is, and that's ok. I guess there comes a time where you become weary of fighting a situation and learn the benefit of accepting it and those around you a little more.