蒸 水 蛋 – Annie Cheong

Posted on January 24, 2014

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There is one kind of food that I will never require a photo to recall what an experience was like and that is the food I grew up with: my mother’s cooking.

When my mother knows I’m coming home for a visit, she undoubtedly makes my favorite dish. It may be as simple as it can get: steamed eggs– zing shui daan is what we call it. I couldn’t imagine ever tiring from it. It’s almost indescribable the small excitement I feel when I walk into my parent’s kitchen and see the wide white bowl covered with an upside down plate. I will lift the plate momentarily to admire my mother’s skills. What you see is a light creamy yellow pool with green cylinders of green onion partially embedded sprinkled throughout its clean surface. The egg and water mixture appears soft, and silky. If it were not for the onions, I would not know if it was even in its steamed state– my mother’s timing is always perfect, as the smooth surface will wrinkle if left steaming for even a minute too long. When I tap the side of the bowl, it brings about ripples through this sunny pond, and not only a second later is back to its unblemished state; She has made it just right.

Careful with the water that has accumulated onto the plate from steam, I bring my face closer and allow myself to appreciate the light fragrance of the warm custard that is this dish. It smells savory with hints of green onions, and scallops– my mother’s secret ingredient. I can’t wait to spoon it over my fluffy white rice.

As I plunge a spoon into its immaculate exterior, I feel a small tingle of pleasure as it comes up like buttery jello. This is the image forever ingrained in my mind, that instills joy to the child within me. I add the spoonful to my bowl of waiting rice, now complete. I mix the two partners together, just as my parents prepared for me when they fed me as a toddler. As a spoonful passes my lips, I know this is my ultimate comfort, as the mixture melts on my tongue, and I see myself sitting around my family’s make-shift dining table, chinese newspapers laid out under dishes, my dad perched upon a step stool watching the night time news, and my mom asking me to say “Ahh..”

steamedeggimage from bcegg.com

http://ratpatootie37.wordpress.com/2014/01/16/

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