About Page - Gyoza and Grits

Welcome to my blog!

It's been five years and I still miss my mother terribly.

My whole life I could write about anything – I have half a dozen journals and diaries full of angst to prove it. But when my mom got sick it was just too terrible to write about. As much as I wanted to hang onto every memory and hold her close I couldn’t put pen to paper.

I wanted to preserve everything I could about her. The particular way she folded her sheets, the way she decorated a room. The food she cooked that I should have learned to make.

Food in particular was poignant. She was an amazing cook. So amazing that I never really learned – I spent my adult life eating takeout and frozen pizza. And then she was gone.

I’ve worked hard to learn to cook the things she did. Each dish celebrates her memory and brings her back just a little.

I hope you enjoy trying them!

More About Mom

Mom was from a part of Tokyo called Asakusa shitamachi. It’s a famous part of old-timey Tokyo with a certain culture associated with working class Japanese. Think of people who are energetic and outspoken and direct – with a quick-speaking dialect and colorful slang.

My grandmother was a business entrepreneur who ran a restaurant and operated several businesses through her life. I’m sure mom’s cooking ability in the kitchen came from Obaasan.

Mom was in school during wartime Japan, she remembers the pamphlets that used to rain down from the sky from American warplanes. She remembers not having enough food and being sent out of the city to the cold mountains to wait out the war with other children. She grew into adulthood during the occupied Japan years. She used to help her mom wash clothes for the GI stationed in Tokyo.

My Parents

Mom and Dad met a gazillion years ago on a military base in Japan. Dad was a young, broke, country boy from south Georgia. Mom was a waitress at the NCO club. She didn’t speak English very well, but she had the menu memorized. I’m not sure how they managed to communicate, or how it all unfolded.

But somehow they managed to fall in love and get married.

Mom remembered eating her first burger – my great-aunt made it for her. She was taught to make biscuits by Grandma Stella. In fact I’d bet Grandma Stella taught her just about everything to do with cooking southern style!

Cooking Just Like Mom?

Not even! Mom was a natural cook who didn’t measure or cook the same way twice. She didn’t even eat the food she cooked but somehow instinctively knew what tasted good.

I try to approximate what she cooked but I’m no expert. My recipes should be used as guidelines and adapted to individual taste.