How you came into being, and, what those childhood experiences meant to you right now, translated…
I was a captain, of the “Gourmet and Beauties Association” when I was a child.
My mother loved breads, and every time she passed by a bakery, she’d gone in to buy something, the breakfasts that we had were mostly, bread or cakes with milk. But, growing up, I’d, hated the breads, the pastries, I’d loved something with a stronger flavor, like McDonald’s, ice cream, chips; but, every time my mother took me to shop in the bakeries, I’d needed to, get that three-colored traditional cakes.
The best part about this cake was the chocolate sprinkles, but reason why I wanted it, wasn’t because of its taste, but because of the way it looked, it’s, very colorful! Back then, I’d, especially loved the foods with the bright colors, everything from my attire, to my foods, needed to be, colorful. (my favorite color back then, as I’d remembered, was pink, so I’d loved, the cotton candies of that color too!”
remember all of these? So, which one’s your favorite??? Photo from online…
As I ate the tri-colored cakes, I’d needed to, split the squares up with my hands and eat (but as I enjoyed the cotton candies, I’d needed to, go face in!) and as we’d bought the cakes, I’d, started eating on the way, then, get the cakes all over me, and that’s when mom would say, “I’m not getting it for you again.” Actually, I’d, forgotten what the cakes tasted like, they’re, so ordinary.
And when I wanted to reminisce, I’d, bought a piece, and, I’d always, waited until I arrived home, set it on a plate, then I was, able to, enjoy it. This cake, tasted just as I’d remembered it to, like that traditional tastes and the buttery tastes; not like the French pastries, not like the English scones, it was, the flavor of my mother’s favorite cakes—my mother loved sweets, but, refused to spend any money, and she’d loved buying that bag of “cake sides”. I’d loved it when I was a child, it’s just, I’d only, selected the chocolate flavored pieces. And, on this very day, I’d finally realized, so that was, what memory tasted like.
I worked in Beijing last week, on the very last day, I’d had, the classic lamb hotpot, and had, the traditional sesame baked pastries. Before I left, I’d had the restaurant pack twenty of those so I can take them back, plus a bag of rice crispy treats, and I’d, carried them back here, to my parents. For them, that traditional taste of the flour, was closest to their memories.
I’d asked my students, what their most memorable item of childhood was, I’d received a ton of names for the items, and, not one of them coincided with other students’. I’d looked on, and felt it was, interesting, there were, so many stories attached to these items, and I’d found suddenly, compared to the love stories, the childhood may be, even more colorful. Back when we were young, the very first time we got picked on (or the first time we’d picked on someone); the first time we were, betrayed by our best friends; first time we’d experienced loss…………all of these, small beans were, forced down our throats, and, at first, they may, get STUCK on their ways down, and, the more serious became, the shadows of our childhoods, and, it may take us, until we finally grow up, to sort through them.
all the “essentials”, covered here! Photo from online…
“Remembering childhood” and “Remembering our pasts”, was totally different. Remembering the past to me, was like still hung up on the self at a period in my life, and those whom I couldn’t, quite let go yet. But remembering my childhood, was using dissociation, to really, look, at how I became, who I am today. My childhood is, unicolored, sometimes, a bit darker, sometimes, lighter. But, the details, as I’d, examined them closely, they were, all very, colorful.
Being so sensitive toward foods, it’s, caused by my elders. They’d never cared about my school performances, they’d not cared if I was in a bad mood, they only always asked me, “Did you eat yet?”
And so, the reason why you’re so insistent about food, probably has something to do with your family, because that was how they’d, shown care for you, asking if you’d eaten, and, somehow, you’d, internalized that, and, as you grew older, you’d, become, more intrigued with the items of food that reminded you of a time, when you felt cared for and loved by your families.