I set this scene because I didn't grow up in a "Call Me By Your Name" kind of family--you know, like the kind where the parents are professors and care about the vintage of their wine. My parents have never tried to promote good conversation and dinner time wit. And yet...
Food, and the making of food, has always been the setting when I've learned the most about my family. At dinner, I'll find myself crying from laughter while my mom gags at one of my dad's hilariously disgusting stories of him growing up in poverty in the Chinese countryside. While preparing for a big dinner party, my mom revealed that she had witnessed a public hanging as a child. At brunch, my parents and I do our biggest philosophical battles--me making a case for why I'm not even trying to get married right now.
In medicine, the most meaningful part for me has been the privilege of getting to know people's stories. My goal with this blog is to use this channel of food to understand my classmates' stories, while simultaneously grabbing recipes for my own and practicing my interview skills for my future residency in psychiatry.
