The influence of food on my identity Anonymous

It was but another Saturday morning – famished and alone in a house of quiet. The family, while knowing that their attempts to prevent me from cooking are futile, creates obstacles such as hiding cooking oil or disabling the stove. I have as a result become more adaptable and resourceful with confronting each challenge; for cooking is an undertaking inseparable from my daily routine ever since my parents handed me the knife and pan for the first time. I have been privileged to taste the finest of cuisines, but the most heartwarming meals I had were in the comfort of my humble abode.

The formative years of my taste buds were when I was raised by my grandaunt, whose culinary skills disguised an explosion of flavors in what would seem as a mere bowl of porridge. Chinese recipes – especially those with rich heritage – have a special place in my heart. The simplicity effortlessly evokes sentiments of familiarity, joy and a tinge of sadness, all at the same time. It is thus of my view that food is a means to connect with the other; to bridge two human beings and allow them to share an emotional connection. ‘Baptism by fire’ – a very apt metaphor considering the numerous times I suffered burns and scalds while rushing out a dish...