Mom's meal

For the Chinese community in Southern Vietnam, the first question they ask each other when they meet isn't "How are you?", but rather "che pun bui," which means "Have you eaten yet?". This question stems from many reasons, but the most important reason, even more important than a meal, is the warmth and togetherness of family.

• HAPPY FAMILY - PROSPEROUS NATION
• Letter from the General Secretary and President of Vietnam on the occasion of the 25th anniversary of "Vietnamese Family Day"

For the Chinese, family meals are chosen as a place for socializing and passing on traditional culture, a place to cherish love, and each dish tells a story rich in cultural significance.

For me, April 22, 2025, was a terrifying day when the Liver Oncology Department of Cho Ray Hospital in Ho Chi Minh City concluded that my mother had stage II liver cancer and that it would be very difficult to treat, especially since she had suffered from diabetes for over 30 years. I was shocked by this result but didn't dare tell my mother for fear of devastating her. Keeping this information a secret tormented me, causing insomnia, depression, and anxiety disorders. As a result, daily meals became heavy and difficult to swallow, and it seemed that in the mind of a mother, my mother had realized it. "Is my illness really that serious? Tell me the truth, I'm not afraid to die," she asked me.

I remember the scene of my mother rendering lard and me standing there holding a bowl, waiting for her to scoop out the rendered lard for me.

I felt it was time to be honest with Mom, because she had her first chemotherapy session next month and needed to be mentally prepared. After the first session, Mom couldn't eat properly, partly due to anxiety, and partly because her hair started falling out. My wife would secretly hide Mom's hair while cleaning the room and was determined to help her gain weight and regain her confidence. Mom found everything unappetizing and often lay alone, feeling sad. Although she said she wasn't worried, she was very scared because she heard that each chemotherapy session cost tens of millions of dong and required multiple sessions. After many nights of thinking and discussing, my wife and I decided to help Mom regain her spirits by using her passion: cooking for the whole family. For me, among the countless delicious dishes Mom has cooked, her shrimp in dark soy sauce has become the best.

I was born after the liberation, back then pork was more precious than gold, so getting pork fat to eat was very difficult! Whenever my mother struck it rich selling a lot of rice or snails, my family would "splurge" on a piece of fat weighing just over half a kilogram. I remember vividly, on the days my mother rendered fat, my siblings and I would always be ready, lining up neatly, waiting for her to scoop a few pieces of fat into our rice bowls. We would finish the white rice first, and then savor the fat later. Sometimes, craving fat so much, we'd secretly scoop a spoonful into our freshly cooked rice, stir it up, and add some dark soy sauce – and eat until we were sweating profusely.

The mother and daughter happily enjoyed the noodle soup that the wife had cooked for the mother.

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In the blink of an eye, over 40 years have passed. Nowadays, shrimp are often used in braised dishes like "kho quẹt" (a type of Vietnamese stew) to dip wild vegetables in, but for me, shrimp with soy sauce still evokes a longing and craving whenever I think about it.

A few days ago, Mom said she was craving stir-fried young mint leaves with garlic. It's the kind of wild mint that grows with its leaves still intact, its stems only slightly thicker than a finger; when stir-fried, it's tender and subtly sweet. I quickly went to the market and found a bunch of fresh, green mint leaves, and brought them home to make a fragrant plate of stir-fried mint with garlic. Watching Mom enjoy it so much warmed my heart.

The elderly often live on memories, so sometimes just having a delicious dish from the past can evoke nostalgia, making them happier and healthier. This is also an opportunity for children and grandchildren to repay their mother's kindness, because they have so little time left to spend with their mother and don't know how many more times they will get to eat her home-cooked meals.

Perhaps understanding this, my two daughters also abandoned their habit of scooping rice into their bowls and then going to their rooms to stare at their phones, and now they eat out with the family more often. And during those meals, along with the laughter and jokes, there are also my words of advice and teachings: "Family meals are the most sacred."

Family meals are not simply a time to fulfill basic survival needs, but also a place for education and cultural transmission. For example, crab soup symbolizes the aspiration for success and the need to study hard to achieve it; plain rice porridge with pickled radish reminds people to live frugally and diligently; or braised mustard greens symbolize a family that is always together and thriving… Even disagreements in life are resolved through meals with apologies, sharing delicious food, and joyful forgiveness…

To date, my mother has undergone three rounds of chemotherapy. What surprised and delighted me was that she not only didn't lose weight but actually gained nearly 5 kg compared to before.

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If I had one wish, I would only wish to still be able to sit at the dinner table every day, eat the dishes my mother cooks, and hear her call her children to come and eat. Because I understand that, someday, those meals will only be memories. But my mother's love, like the flavors of our hometown dishes, will stay with me for the rest of my life.

Lu Dung

Source: https://baocamau.vn/bua-com-cua-ma-a130163.html