Years ago, I started writing this project called “love language” (working title).
It was supposed to be a book about people’s deep connections with food, how it’s something way more than just sustenance, inscribed deep into our DNA.
It’s the reason why you have deep connections to the food your mom made you, no matter how simple it was. It’s the reason why you crave a certain food when you’re sick. It’s the reason you’ll never drink that one alcohol again.
Anyways - I wrote several stories and even interviewed many people for the project — but then life got in the way. And I thought I lost the document forever. Today, I was ecstatic to find it in the deep depths of my trusty MacBook.
Before I started interviewing people, I wrote about one funny experience that I remember like it was yesterday. I can still smell the chlorine in the air.
This will be the first in a series of stories I’ll write in the future, and who knows. Interview my beloved subscribers for their own visceral food memories? Get it published one day?
Anyways, enjoy.
Shumai
I was massively picky when I was a kid. The pickiest eater of all time.
Any of the slightest weirdness that touched my taste buds would set off a chain reaction of me throwing up, causing the vessels in my nose to burst into a bloody mess.
I’d say no to just about any food even remotely foreign to me.
And as a kid in a Korean family — this was not chill.
Looks of disapproval fired at me like a machine gun became an everyday part of life. I can literally hear my grandpa shake his head (I guess like a “swoosh swoosh” noise) in disgust as I sat there eating plain rice and only the meatiest parts of dishes.
To be Korean and to be a picky eater - it’s a low level of shame, right next to piano-quitters and B-getters. (I was three for three)
Everyone looks down on you. Grandma openly stating her disappointment. Aunts and uncles looking on with pity. Mom and dad constantly forcing with varied efforts to try new food.
My cousin Terrance however, the closest thing I had to a brother growing up, was the opposite. He was a great eater. He ate everything and I was jealous. I looked up to him.
Oh, what it would be like to not have everything make me want to throw up.
“Chal meogo…he eats so well,” the adults would say as they looked at him with pride. The ultimate compliment.
No one really ever said that to me growing up.
One particularly bright and sunny day, I was at his house. It was a three-story house that I spent a lot of my formative years playing around at. Fake wrestling matches, bike rides to nowhere, endless bowls of instant ramyun, hot Cheetos, and Dragonball Z. The simplest of simple times.
One day, some big party was going on, I don’t remember exactly what it was for. But I remember I was playing with Terrance and his sister Kayla, and there were maybe 4 or 5 more kid friends that I didn’t know, plus several adults. We were all running around the house in our bathing suits screaming, jumping in and out of the pool, doing whatever little kids do.
“I’m hungry,” I told Terrance.
Terrance was very aware of how picky I was.
“My mom’s making Shumai. Just wait.”
What the fuck is Shumai, I wondered to myself nervously.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s like…it’s like a shrimp dumpling.”
I retreated to my thoughts.
Dumplings are okay. Depending on the filling, dumplings are okay. But shrimp? Are you kidding me?
I gave him a pleading look. He understood. If it were just me and him, I would have said straight out - I don’t like shrimp. Or at least I don’t think I like shrimp. Actually what is shrimp?
But there was company. There were other kids around that needed to be impressed. There were older Korean folks about, judging.
We all ran outside and jumped in the pool to play colors.
Remember colors? One person stands on the diving board turned around with their eyes closed and yells out colors. When they called yours, you’d try to stealthily sneak off and get to the other side of the pool before they turned around and chased you like a madman.
At the height of the action, my aunty yelled “Food’s ready!”
We all splashed out of the pool and ran towards the food. I could see them all crowding around the glass table hungrily picking at something.
I was last on purpose. I was a notorious pool-puker.
I finally squeezed in and was surprised to see a white plastic pan used for microwaving. When you’re a kid, you don’t really care if things are microwaved or not. Seeing it didn’t diminish any sort of quality to me. I just wasn't expecting it.
There were three little dumpling pockets left in the white plastic. Terrance nudged me with his elbow as he shoved one in his mouth, urging me to just try it. The elbow said “Dude just eat it, it’s fine. It’s good.”
I’d been fooled by that elbow before. But there were too many people around for me to object.
I slowly reached for one and used my thumb and pointer finger and picked up the moist, warm dumpling. I dipped it in more soy sauce than necessary. Palate insurance. Soy sauce was good.
I closed my eyes and shoved it into my mouth.
And chewed.
And chewed.
I opened my eyes. It was good. It was delicious. The hot filling of shrimp and chives and whatever else, the outer coat with a slight hint of chlorine from my fingers.
I immediately grabbed another. And another. Two of the kids gave me a weird look - I had quickly just eaten the last three pieces.
Shumai huh. Funny word.
“If you ate remember to wait 30 minutes before you swim again!” my aunt yelled.
I immediately jumped back into the pool with a sense of pride and satisfaction.
I had finally tried something new, and I liked it.
Any good food stories from your childhood? I’d love to hear them.
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I was also so fussy as a kid! Coming from an Indian family, it was not good. my grandma always used to complain about how I didn’t touch any of the food she cooked and would compare me to others too. I love it now though
My baby Eli!!! You were a very difficult picky eater but a great negotiator. I always started with 10 bites of food and you started with 1 then you finish the meal with 5 small bites. I can't believe that little boy has the biggest passion for food and cooking now. Awww I miss my little baby so much!