In likeness
Yesterday I was tucking into a plate of deliciously braised chicken feet at Song Fa Bak Kut Teh while my dining companion looked on with no desire to try the dish, and it got me thinking about my own taste preferences.
Do we grow to like the food our parents love?
I can still remember how I used to show that same look of mild disgust whenever I saw my mother putting a whole braised chicken feet (we call them Phoenix claws here in Asia) into her mouth and then slowly picking out the loose skin with her teeth before spitting out the tiny bones into her plate. It didn't make for gracious eating, but boy did she like it. She still does in fact, and I don't know how or when it happened but now I love it too.
Also, my dad's favourite dish is a pot of thick, sticky, fat-laden pork trotters, slow-cooked to a gooey mess with a gelatinous exterior that has been simmering in a blend of black sweet and sour vinegar stock that everything is darkened to an ominous shade of jet black. The Chinese believe the vinegar and sour taste makes for a nourishing meal especially for women during their confinement period (post-birth) and if you'd like to try your hand at making some, here's a great recipe.
That too, has grown to become one of my comfort food.
The fact is I hadn't liked them as a child, in fact when I was young and my taste buds didn't know any better I was always asking for Happy Meals and a Big Mac. But now that I have matured, I am beginning to appreciate the trouble it takes and the complexity that goes into preparing such dishes. I like them not only because of their unique taste, but also because every time I savour it, the memories of watching my parents' faces brighten up with wide beams and smiles appear in my mind, and it makes the whole experience especially meaningful.
In an interview the Dalai Lama also commented that he realised as he was growing up that he began to crave foods that he used to dislike eating as a child, such as the tsampa - a dough-like staple that the Tibetans eat regularly.
So what's your favourite food now that didn't use to be on the list?
Do we grow to like the food our parents love?
I can still remember how I used to show that same look of mild disgust whenever I saw my mother putting a whole braised chicken feet (we call them Phoenix claws here in Asia) into her mouth and then slowly picking out the loose skin with her teeth before spitting out the tiny bones into her plate. It didn't make for gracious eating, but boy did she like it. She still does in fact, and I don't know how or when it happened but now I love it too.
Also, my dad's favourite dish is a pot of thick, sticky, fat-laden pork trotters, slow-cooked to a gooey mess with a gelatinous exterior that has been simmering in a blend of black sweet and sour vinegar stock that everything is darkened to an ominous shade of jet black. The Chinese believe the vinegar and sour taste makes for a nourishing meal especially for women during their confinement period (post-birth) and if you'd like to try your hand at making some, here's a great recipe.
That too, has grown to become one of my comfort food.
The fact is I hadn't liked them as a child, in fact when I was young and my taste buds didn't know any better I was always asking for Happy Meals and a Big Mac. But now that I have matured, I am beginning to appreciate the trouble it takes and the complexity that goes into preparing such dishes. I like them not only because of their unique taste, but also because every time I savour it, the memories of watching my parents' faces brighten up with wide beams and smiles appear in my mind, and it makes the whole experience especially meaningful.
In an interview the Dalai Lama also commented that he realised as he was growing up that he began to crave foods that he used to dislike eating as a child, such as the tsampa - a dough-like staple that the Tibetans eat regularly.
So what's your favourite food now that didn't use to be on the list?