My sister-in-law and I both love to cook. I remember fondly the day when I was around 11 and I saw a dish in a magazine I wanted my mother to try making for me. When I asked, “Can you make this for me?” she loving said, “Why don’t you try?” Apparently she had decided it was time for me to try my wings. And it probably was. Within a year I was doing the majority of the weekly cooking for the family, including making grocery lists and menu planning. My parents would come home from work to a completed meal.
Luoth, my sister-in-law has also shared a majority of the family cooking duties. Even now at family gatherings she is the one who spearheads the majority of the dishes. I am not too ashamed to say she remains my husband’s favorite cook.
For me writing, reading and cooking have always gone together. I decided what to cook based on what someone else had written about a dish. Sometimes I would be tempted by a picture or just the list of ingredients. Luoth grew up without books. I remember how stricking it was to me to visit my soon to be in-laws for the first time and realize there were no books anywhere in the house. Her first experiences with food were watching her mother cook over an open fire the fresh food of the day. Later in the refugee camp she learned how to make do with meager rations. After coming to America, the land of plenty, the food still did not flow freely on to their table, (which was really a mat on the floor). Proeun has a unique view on maternal love. He remembers that when there wasn’t enough food to eat and the children were more hungry then not his mother would chose not to eat so the children could have enough.
When I came into the family I struggled to learn how to cook to taste, how to just make up dishes off the top of my head with whatever I had on hand. Add to that that I was cooking with ingredients I had never heard of. If I was going to the store by myself my sister-in-law could occasionally struggle to remember the English words for an item.
Now I find myself with a much expanded culinary repertoire. Today I attempted to make stuffed bitter melon. I was surprised at how bitter they actually are. Not many cuisines use bitter as an taste to strive for. The taste sensation didn’t go over well with the children but I did pick up some brownie points wIth Proeun who often worries about his family’s culinary traditions being lost.
I have to credit Sami Scripter and Sheng Yang for their cookbook, Cooking from the Heart: The Hmong Kitchen in America for helping me along. Many of the dishes are similar to my husband’s family kitchen and it helps those more used to learning to cook from books along the way. Proeun is now suggesting that Luoth and I write a similar book for the Cambodian kitchen.