If love brought us together and food complements love, then food has meant so much to me despite how I tried to deny it.
After being in the UK for 2 years, I refused the important of food “why did we spend so much time on food? There are so much more important things to do”.
Going back home, I stopped mum cook special dish for me which caused my pain later on for realising I had refused her love or at least her way of showing love to me. I felt what she had felt because it’s in my blood too. Her way of showing attentiveness passed on to me.
If well times spending together were the most valuable of all, then food was the high and the low. Family’s events gathered us together and food was the centre. Our conversations were around food: cooking methods, ingredients’ quality, food critics and on. The whole family were together planning, preparing and cooking and eating.
We put so much time and effort to make our food not only right but excellent.
And above of all that symphonies, grand-dad was the conductor that made it wonderfully occurred.
So food to us, was just not something you eat every day merely to survive.
It was love and life.