Just Like Dad

I got my love of food from my family, especially my father. I’ve spent my entire life watching him take a bite of something delicious and instantly say “Wow!” while leaning back in his chair, bringing his hands together in front of his face, in almost a single clap, and instantly diving back in for another bite. Usually after the second bite is when he says “Chris you’ve gotta try this.” These are some of my favorite moments, and they’re only made better when he has that reaction over something I’ve made. . See, a love of food runs deep in my family. I got mine from my father, he got his from his father, and it touches us all. Watch my mother eat anything sweet or Niko with a bowl of mac ‘n cheese, and you will see what happiness looks like. Ask my godmother about bread, my cousin Lauren about chocolate, my Uncle Eddie about wagyu (the most delicious steak you’ll ever eat), my cousin Daniel about spinach dip, or my cousin Krystal about my mom’s flan. Mention artichoke dip in front of my Aunt Miracle, breaded cauliflower to Tristan, buffalo dip to JR, Korean BBQ and “egg porn” to Annie and Brian and you’ll instantly find yourself a new friend. Mention these items, ask us about them, and you will watch our faces light up. This is what I grew up around, big, beautiful dinners filled with laughter and the plate of empanadas my Aunt Denise always has for Niko because they’re his favorite, or the bowl of potato salad my Aunt Maria always makes for me because she knows I love it. . In my family, food is love. . I was watching a documentary last night on a Buddhist monk who prepares all of the food for her temple. I was mesmerized by everything she said but one thing stuck with me most of all. She said, “If you look into yourself, you see past, present, and future. You see that time revolves endlessly. You can see the past from the present. By looking into myself, I see my grandmother, my mother, the elders in the temple, and me.” She goes on to say that by preparing foods she is carrying on the wisdom of her ancestors. . After hearing her speak such beautiful words I couldn’t help but find truth in them. . When I add specific spices to my dishes I am reminded of my grandmothers, when I cook certain meals I think of my mother as if she is with me, and when I’m eating something that instantly makes me think “Wow!” I want to offer my dad a piece even if he is miles and miles away. . Food is my family’s language of love, and I carry each one of them with me when I stand in front of my stove. It is then, in those moments, when I find myself feeling grateful for the love, and food, they’ve shared with me.