The last banh chung, I wrapped with my father

It was a special banh chung that I wrapped myself from the leftover sticky rice and beans. Tiny, made entirely of leaves, but it was the most delicious banh chung and it was deeply imprinted in my mind, because it was the last banh chung I wrapped with my father, before he passed away suddenly the following year.

For many years now, since having our own family, every time Tet comes, no matter how busy my husband and I are, we try to arrange to wrap Chung cakes with our children for Tet, hoping that our children will also have beautiful memories of the traditional Vietnamese Tet holiday.

My family lives in the mountainous region of Can Loc ( Ha Tinh ), and my house is the farthest in the village because behind us are many high and low hills, in the afternoon we only hear the sound of cuckoos and cuckoos. My parents are both farmers, and our family has many siblings, so we are in need all year round. Therefore, for the children in my village, Tet at that time was the most important occasion of the year, everyone was eager, looking forward to it, counting the days… because we would have meat, banh chung, candy to eat and new things to show off. Wrapping banh chung with our parents on the days before Tet has therefore become sweet memories in my mind and in the minds of many other children.

When I was 17, like every other Tet season before, my mother prepared to soak sticky rice and beans early in the morning, so that in the evening when my father finished plowing the field, and the children were on Tet holiday and no longer in school, the whole family would gather together to wrap Chung cakes. My sisters and I were busy washing dong leaves from the afternoon, preparing the trays and strings, while my mother cooked a pot of mung bean filling until it was very soft. After dinner, the whole family gathered in the small kitchen, gathered around the blazing fire to wrap Chung cakes and Tet cakes together. While my father wrapped each cake, my sisters and I gathered around hoping he would ask us to get leaves, strings or do errands. The atmosphere of family reunion filled the small kitchen.

After working hard for an hour, my father and I finished wrapping a dozen banh chung. My sister and I were given a bowl of sticky rice and a handful of beans by our father to wrap our own banh chung. It was very ugly, but my father did not correct it, he just helped us tie the string tightly and placed this small cake on top of the pot.

That night, the whole family sat by the fire watching the pot of banh chung and talking about all sorts of things. My parents calculated how many chickens and how many kilos of rice they should sell to have money to buy meat, candy and Tet items for their children. We sat next to each other and listened, feeling happy because we would be able to go to the spring market and buy each of us a new outfit - the only new outfit of the year at that time.

At around 1-2am the next morning, when my sisters and I were leaning on our mother’s knees, dozing off by the stove, the pot of banh chung was already fragrant. When my father checked and saw that the cakes were cooked, my sisters and I woke up because we were so excited. My father carefully pressed the cakes, then placed the most beautiful ones on the altar. At this time, unable to wait for the cakes to cool, we were able to eat the small cakes we had wrapped first. Those were the best banh chung I had ever eaten in my life, because they had the fragrant taste of sticky rice, the rich taste of mung beans, and the love of my parents. Those were also the last cakes, before my father suddenly passed away at the end of the following year.

That year, also on the days before Tet, when I was still in school, I received the news that my father had passed away. My tears kept falling and I couldn’t stop. My house was a few dozen kilometers away from school. I cycled through the steep slopes of the mountainous region to get home. When I reached the village entrance, when I looked up the mountainside where my family lived, I saw people setting up a tent. I was devastated. That was the first time in my life that I felt separated.

That year, my family was sad, we didn’t celebrate Tet, nor did we visit anyone to wish them a happy new year, because my hometown’s custom is to avoid mourners visiting other people’s houses at the beginning of the new year. My mother just quietly cooked some savory dishes and sweet soups to worship my father. As for my sisters and I, we sat by the fire, but we couldn’t wrap banh chung or banh tet, only missing our father. And from then on, my mother and I didn’t wrap banh chung anymore, because all the girls in the family didn’t know how to wrap them. Every year, my mother sent sticky rice, asking the neighbors to help wrap three or four to put on the altar.

A few years later, my youngest brother and I both went to college. My father was gone, and my mother was left alone, so my brother took her to Binh Duong to live with us. The old tiled house on the hillside was no longer inhabited and covered with moss, so my mother sold it.

The memory of Tet holiday when I was 17, the last Tet holiday when my father was still alive, wrapping banh chung together is only in my memory. Now my sisters and I are all grown up and have moved to the big city to start a career, but every Tet holiday I miss the small kitchen, remember that spring when we happily gathered together to wrap banh chung.

This Tet, now that I have my own family, whether I go back to my hometown or stay in the city, every year, on the days before Tet, I prepare to soak sticky rice, cook mung beans, my husband will prepare molds to wrap the cakes. My children will help their parents, and I also remind my husband to let the children wrap a few cakes for themselves.

NGUYEN LOAN

Address: TL37 Street, Thanh Loc Ward, District 12, HCMC

Email: [email protected]

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