Food

One night, my roommate and I were talking before bed, and somehow the conversation reached Grandpa. I told him I wanted to cook a dish Grandpa had taught me, to remember him, and share it with people I knew. My roommate immediately replied, “Isn’t tomorrow night’s pizza party the perfect opportunity?” In fact, the idea had been with me since I heard the news on Sunday night. Fortunately, because I did not trust my own memory, I had recorded the entire lesson when Grandpa taught me. Through a screen only a few inches wide, I could still see him, almost as though he were beside me. ...

Today’s entry number happens to equal the maximum completion percentage in Hollow Knight. I looked at Trial of the Fool, which I still have not beaten, and decided… No games today! Fine, it was not exactly a decision. In the morning I followed our PAs, Korbin and Amy, to church to make dumplings. After lunch we visited several board-game stores. In the afternoon I attended a Lake Day organized by a retired missionary to China. By the time I returned to the dorm, it was after nine. A little early to wash up and sleep, so I suppose I should write something. ...

Today was actually rather relaxed. In theory, once I had run to English Composition carrying a half-eaten burger and finished class, I had nothing else to do. I still ended up making several trips between professors’ offices to sort out my switch to a double major, and spent ages chatting with one professor in Chinese while I was at it, haha. In any case, dinner was probably the most leisurely meal I have had in days. Allow me to set the scene. Starting from the far left side of the long table, there was Jaemin, the Korean student I met on the bus during the orientation Walmart Run—technically a Walmart Drive, haha. Next came the aggressively multicolored, questionably edible cafeteria cream jelly that some people could calmly consume any number of. Then there was wrinkly Kris, still clearing his game dailies over dinner. Because of this, we taught everyone the Chinese pronunciation of “gacha-game addict” and enthusiastically explained why the players are compared to cockroaches. Our Korean classmate was delighted. Beside him sat Ted, who finished the jelly with the same untroubled expression. (Incidentally, those last two are both exchange students from the Shanghai Civil Aviation College.) Finally there was Korbin, who has started learning Chinese under the professor I mentioned and who prepares a detailed to-do list for every day: the God of To-Do Lists, in sharp contrast with the many Gods of Last-Minute Deadlines present. ...

Dragged myself up at 2:00 a.m. to solve the hunt meta and kept going until 6:30. Every variety of brute force failed, until I finally discovered that I had extracted the starting year incorrectly—because I had simply asked AI at that step. AI still cannot replace humanity after all ( At the time, I didn’t know the reason for the error, but the sun was already up, and it was time to go out and “refresh my mind.” Following the veteran Beijinger—my dad—we headed out to explore and eat! ...

What to do on Laba? Today, I ate dumplings, climbed a mountain, and pickled Laba garlic. The mountain was named “Sengguan” (Monk’s Cap) by Emperor Qianlong. Although it doesn’t look like a cap from afar, with the name in mind, it somewhat resembles one. The path up the mountain was quite wild, but fortunately, there were enthusiastic locals to guide us. We fumbled our way up to a fire access road halfway up the mountain (which was essentially just a flatter dirt road that cars could drive on). Along the way, I chatted with my grandpa on and off, and bickered with my younger brother on and off. It’s truly amazing that I didn’t drink a single sip of water during this process. ...

What should I write today? I ask myself this every day, because every day in Chengde brings something new. So today, why not turn to the thing I do best: eating! Mainly because I went downtown today, and all that wandering-and-snacking resulted in a rather underwhelming performance at dinner… Still, in the few days since I returned to Chengde, my stomach has undoubtedly not had a moment’s rest. Grandma’s cooking has been number one in my heart since childhood, and nothing has ever shaken its position. Come to think of it, my favorites are always the same few things: baozi, dumplings, stuffed pies (wait, so 馅 isn’t pronounced xiè?), and fried noodles. Whenever Grandma asks, my answer is almost always one of the four. Since so much of my childhood was spent by her side, perhaps what keeps drawing me back is not only the food, but the meaning of “home” wrapped up in it. ...