Introduction

My father's parents lived in a small town in Taiwan, along the coast of South China Sea, called Putai.  I have vivid memories of my "ah-mah" (means grandma in Taiwanese) in the kitchen cooking.  Instead of playing outside, I would always stand in the corner of her kitchen and watch her at work.  I was six.

I was fascinated with the various textures, smells, and tastes of the dishes that she would make.  I enjoyed all the different flavors of food: sweet, spicy, sour, bitter, savory and salty.  

Ah-mah always bought live seafood.  One afternoon, she brought home two eels in a bag of water.  I was both terrified and captivated by these creatures.  The traumatizing moment, the moment that fear overcame my curiosity, was when she took them out of the bag and chopped off their heads.  I panicked and ran out the door.  For a very long time I had thought we had eaten snakes that day.  It was delicious.  My fascination and my love for cooking started with the memories I have of her cooking while I stood in the corner of her kitchen.

(Ah-mah and I, 23 years after the eels incident, the week before my wedding April 2009).