nostalgic food meets honest critique

by Morgan Hsu

I like to give ratings for everything. My recent ones have been socks with shark slides (9/10), airpods under headphones (1/10) and mismatched socks (100/10). After reuniting with my family during the Winter Break, I couldn’t stop coming up with ratings for the nostalgic dishes my family always had.

Firstly, the classic fried rice. I’ve had many versions of fried rice: my spam, egg and soy sauce simplicity, the Hong Kong style which in- ple dish that is sometimes “dressed up” or “dressed down.” A fancier fried rice could include fish roe, while a simpler one would probably have carrots or only eggs. Additionally, day-old or leftover rice works well for fried rice, which means that little to no excess rice goes to waste. As the Chinese saying goes, “ cludes egg, vegetables, mini shrimps and pork. Toronto provided many iterations of the dish, and overall, my final rating is 9/10. Although the ingredients in fried rice can vary, in it’s essence, it is a sim-

苦”— every grain of rice is the product of a farmer’s laborious work. The only factor that caused a loss of one point for fried rice is that it’s often too bland, and not enough soy sauce is added. While too much sodium is a health concern, there needs to be a balance between health and flavor, because in my opinion, the taste of fried rice depends heavily on the soy sauce.

Next, we have lotus seed paste bun. The sweet paste is inside a warm, steamed bun with pink detailing on the exterior, and as a bonus, it is generally shaped like a peach. I remember having the buns on my family and friends’ birthdays, as they symbolize longevity (the Chinese word for the dish quite literally translates to “long life bun”). I give it a solid 8/10. It’s one of the most delicious foods I’ve ever had, but it comes with a worthwhile health hazard. Because the bun is steamed, the exterior often cools down much quicker than the filling, and as a result, when I go to take an excited first bite I often get burned by the scalding paste. Nevertheless, I truly believe that lotus seed paste bun is more than worth the pain. Last and unfortunately least is bubble tea. I tried bubble tea for the first time in late 2018, to which I reacted with disgust. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want a perfect milk tea disrupted by tiny chewy jellies. In retrospect, ten year old me didn’t have such great taste. I tried it again in 2020 and gained both an obsession and stamp cards for free bubble teas. Luckily, Hong Kong had bubble tea pretty much everywhere — and it was good bubble tea; not the ones where the boba falls apart or is undercooked. After two years of diehard boba purchasing, my final rating comes to a 6/10. While this might be surprising, I think my rating is more than fair. Firstly, depending on the authenticity of the brand, the tea in bubble tea could be more or less fragrant. My personal preference is for stronger teas, but for a lot of companies there is too much milk and not enough tea; combine that with watered down tea, and the drink is essentially composed of only milk. Secondly, bubble tea was so accessible and consistently delicious in Hong Kong, which made it less special. Each time I would get less and less hyped about it because it was too easy to get; and I began to understand why my mom wasn’t that excited about it in the first place. To me, someone who had bubble tea all too often, it was nothing too special.

These are simply three of the nostalgic dishes that I was lucky enough to enjoy during my break. Another time, maybe I’ll explain to you why I give milk pudding a higher rating than Ma Lai Go; it would blow your mind!