Family Serving

Style: Poetry

Statement: In this piece, I wanted to find warmth and comfort through food and family. As a child of immigrant parents, I treasure the rich culture I am nestled in. I also sincerely appreciate the time and thought my dad puts into cooking for me.

Father lifts the clay pot from a back shelf 

at Chun Ching Market, clearance stickers 

still clinging to its freckled glaze. There’s life 

to this, he points, as if his index finger might hook 

some spirit from its splotched lip. At home, Father gathers ingredients for broth—his own version of ambrosia. Cabbage, 

soft eared mushrooms, beef stock ladled into the pot’s belly. Steam rises slowly through the Cuisinart lid before

assimilating 

into the air. In this house, memory seasons itself with American myth. We don’t speak 

once the broth starts simmering. The bowls we fill with our lotus knots feed all four of us.