The Last Food I Made from a Recipe Given to Me

by Andrew Hirss

 

I made my mother’s Hot and Sour Soup the other day. It was from a recipe she got from her good friend and bridge pal, Joan Barth. The recipe is written in her crisp, distinctive handwriting on a sheet of yellow legal paper that had become so dog-eared and thin, I had to laminate it to preserve it.

I haven’t really needed to look at the recipe for years. I usually trot out the laminated sheet just to see my mother’s handwriting and celebrate something nice that we shared between us. I’ve made my own version of her Hot and Sour Soup for so long, her recipe is just a reminder of where my version started.

Bone broth, shitake mushrooms, bamboo shoots, pork tenderloin, tofu, eggs, white vinegar, white pepper, toasted sesame oil and arrow root make up the ingredients. Cutting the mushrooms, pork and bamboo shoots into thin strips takes time.

The first taste when it’s ready, with my mother’s laminated hand-written recipe in front of me, and I can feel a warm rush of satisfaction and contentment rise from my belly, along with a yearning for what might have been.