i. the duck
on special occasions:
birthdays, holidays, family reunions
my family always eats peking duck
all day we wait
as the smell of succulent fatty crackling skin
breezes merrily through our house
drawing all to the oven, to the hearth, to the center of home
carving the duck is an artisan’s job
a performance art piece, no less
as the whole family gathers around
plates are set, chopsticks aligned in parallel
with a pop and a fizz, drinks are poured
we settle down for a meal that matters
ii. the garnishes
if the duck is the crown
then our garnishes are its jewels
fat lines of fresh emerald jalapeno,
bespeckled with delicate amber seeds
circular white diamonds from the tips of green onions
long triangles of jade cucumber
reminds us that a star is worth nothing without its supporting cast
reminds us that life is better with the kindness we seek
that every gentle nod and smile
every “i’m thinking of you” text
every inside joke
every loving embrace
every bit of wisdom given freely
is another jewel on our crowns
is another garnish completing our meal
iii. the pancake
thin, and still strong
steamed, and still chewy
mildly sweet, and still satisfying
the pancake is the first and last step
in assembling the peking duck
when i was seven,
my mother taught me how to
perfectly measure your sauce
and swirl it onto the pancake with grace and ease
select the best pieces of duck
the right amount of green onion
and deftly carry them to your plate with your chopsticks
to fold first the sides of the pancake
and then the end
encasing everything in the warm security
of a simple pancake
when i was seven,
my mother also taught me how to tie my shoes
how to check out books from the library
how to bravely sled down any hill
how to find the best parking spots in chinatown
but the lesson i remember best
is how to provide comfort to others
warm others
keep my loved ones close,
and together
wrap the perfect bite
and sometimes, today
my pancakes still fall apart
or rip when i overstuff them
or burn my hands with their heat
i’ve got a lot more to learn
and as i reach for another,
i'm learning
iv. the first and second bites
the first bite is usually the worst
it’s just the pancake and some jalapeno
because, as usual, i’ve stuffed the duck too far down
and though i’ve come to expect this disappointment
it never gets better
the second bite is infinitely superior
when your peking duck skills finally pay off
much like how a star will explode
and elements will break apart, combine, create new things
so will the ingredients
i’ve carefully selected
sometimes, though
i get trapped in a series of first bites
and each day is like an empty disappointment
void of real substance
of flavor, spice, texture
sometimes i forget the feeling of second bites
when my work isn’t paying off
when i feel lonely
or on pause
endlessly chewing some bland, starchy mush
and that’s when i tell myself
yes, first bites are bad
but a second one has to follow
yes, first bites can seem to go on
endlessly
but, the second one will be worth it
and i am more than capable
of finding my second bite
v. the bones
this thanksgiving
when i was getting ready to eat my peking duck
i was asked a question,
by a total stranger nonetheless,
“i guess it's not turkey you’re eating?”
and i felt like i was in the oven
red glowing eyes on me
my flesh roasting slowly
my skin popping and burning
my shame was ugly
like a stripped duck carcass carelessly left behind
odd bits of meat hanging off bones
greasy fat pooling everywhere
grey bones peeking through
forming a useless pile of waste
and i thought: why am i even angry?
because it was true
i didn’t want turkey
i never did
and all year my mind had been focused
on succulent fatty duck
but already, i knew the answer
he had assumed that i would not be eating turkey
because i looked different
because people who look different
must act differently,
right?
i was angry because
people who look different
must celebrate american holidays differently
right?
because he had never ever considered
that it was my choice
to eat turkey or duck
to eat pie or cake
to freely make the choices
that all people are entitled to
because he had looked at me
as a duck in a flock of turkeys
but the best part about peking duck
is that the bones are transformed
that after the main meal is done
the bones are stewed into a delicate light soup
which is met with equal excitement and acclaim
nothing is ever wasted
i stewed my shame with a vengeance
i cooked it until it was nothing
i looked up and saw millions of peking duck eaters
doing the same
i am proud, now
that i can choose between duck and turkey
that i have eaten different foods
that i have seen different sights
that i have spoken different languages
that i am different
next year, who knows?
i might be asked the same question
and if i am
i’ll be ready
with my crown of duck
bejeweled with cucumber
wrapped in a sturdy pancake
and a side of boiled pride
to eat away ignorance
and reclaim my culture
Cover Photo Source: LovePik.com