For the Love of Rice

For the Love of Rice

an Asian Holiday Memoir Through the Eyes (and Taste Buds) of a 5-Year-Old

By Cruz Liu ’27

I showed up at my grandma and grandpa’s house, whom I lovingly call Nai Nai and Ye Ye, ready to visit with my extended family for Christmas 2013. When I arrived with my parents and sister, all of my cousins were there. Everyone was so happy and in the Christmas spirit. This also meant that everyone was hungry and wanted to eat. Nai Nai has always loved to have her house full of family. She is the best cook in the family and the way she shows her love is through food. At the young age of five and during this Christmas celebration, I had the most impactful culinary experience of my life.

For the Love of Rice

By Cruz Liu ’27

Nai Nai’s special meals are always made from scratch and from recipes she knows from memory. There is never any shortage of food on special days like Christmas since my grandma is always prepared to serve the crowd. This particular Christmas was no different. There was no room to sit at the table as it was full to the brim with plates of hot, delicious Chinese food. Since I was only five at the time, I had a limited appetite. I truly wanted nothing more than a plate of chicken fingers and french fries. Nai Nai would have never had a chicken finger dish on her kitchen table. I did not realize it at the time, but my Nai Nai did not have what I wanted to eat; she had what I needed.

Christmastime in an Asian household means food specialties that can only be found in authentic restaurants. I was very scared at the sight and smell of all of the new foods on the table. I wanted to ask my parents to go through a drive-thru to get the chicken nuggets I was craving, but I decided to take a chance and find something new to try instead.

I sorted through all of the different foods and found a plate with small pieces of chicken on it. This was my chance to have the chicken I was craving. I asked for a serving and took a bite. I remember the feeling of euphoria as I tasted this dish with new flavors. The chicken tasted amazing with these small pieces of brown fluff. My parents would later explain that the brown fluff was rice. I ate three plates of chicken fried rice that night.

I spent the next few days curious about how I could get more rice to satisfy my new craving. I happened to go see Nai Nai again a week later and asked her to show me how to make her famous rice. She explained the entire recipe she knew by heart and I was so impressed with how passionately she explained her process. I told her to show me, and she gave me a step stool, put it next to the counter, and taught me how to make the rice. It was the best experience I have ever had in a kitchen. When she was teaching me how to make the recipe, I felt like an artist carefully making his masterpiece and taking great care of every paint stroke on his canvas.

I will never forget having my first taste of chicken fried rice or learning how to make it with my grandma. Her food has helped connect me to my extended family and my Asian heritage. It is from this memorable experience that my love of rice has grown and continues to this day.