Dumpling Days

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Dumpling Days Page 16

by Grace Lin


  Of course, there were lots of things we couldn’t bring. We couldn’t pack our three goldfish. Those would have to stay behind, and they seemed to know it. Whenever we passed the bowl, the fish looked at us with big, reproachful eyes.

  And we couldn’t bring back Aunt Bea or Auntie Jin or Grandma or Grandpa, either. Somehow, going home made me feel sad. I was glad to be going back to where everyone spoke English, where I could call Melody on the phone, see Becky and Charlotte, and peek at Sam Mercer. And New Hartford had our comfortable white house with the green shutters, clean wind, and trees that grew as if they could hug the sky. But I’d also miss the stories Uncle Flower told us, the hugs from Grandma and Grandpa, and Auntie Jin’s morning smile. I’d miss Taiwan’s rich, thick air full of food smells and the window we looked out of at night to see the city lights brighten the sky like stars. New Hartford and the United States was still my homeland. But I had gotten to feel at home in Taiwan.

  I wondered if the ghosts felt that way, too. “Ghost Month is ending,” Auntie Jin said that night. “So soon there’ll be no more burning things on the streets. The ghosts are going home.”

  Like us, I thought.

  And then the next morning, Lissy, Ki-Ki, and I were wearing our pink overall dresses again. They didn’t fit that well. Lissy’s was so short that she wore plaid shorts underneath. I felt like a too-full water balloon in mine, and Ki-Ki’s had a button that kept popping open.

  Our suitcases closed, surprisingly, and stood behind us like a castle wall. We had to call for a special, extra-large taxi. It was really a van, not a taxi. As it arrived, Grandma and Grandpa hugged and kissed us good-bye—a small silver tear, the size of the head of a pin, silently dropped from the corner of Grandma’s eye onto Mom’s shoulder. Aunt Bea, Auntie Jin, Aunt Yoko, Auntie Kim, Shogun, and Julian waved as the taxi pulled away, and we kept waving, turning around in our seats to see them through the back window.

  “So are you happy to be going back?” Uncle Shin asked us. He and Uncle Flower were going to the airport with us.

  “Yes and no,” Lissy said.

  “It’s forever like that,” Uncle Shin said. “For me, as soon as I am in Taiwan, I miss the United States. When I am in the U.S., I miss Taiwan.”

  “It’s because we’re both,” I said, thinking about my name chop. America and Taiwan. English and Chinese. “We’re mixed up.”

  “Uh-huh,” Uncle Shin said. “But I wouldn’t want it any other way. Would you?”

  Would I want it any other way? Would I want to live in New Hartford and not know that peaches meant long life or the taste of a soup dumpling? Or to live in Taiwan and not know about Thanksgiving turkeys or what a real McDonald’s hamburger was like?

  “No,” I said. “I’m happy this way.”

  The taxi arrived at the airport, and we pushed and pulled our luggage out and through the terminal. When we got to the part of the airport where Uncle Shin and Uncle Flower couldn’t follow, there were good-byes all over again. This was the last good-bye. Mom sighed before she gave Uncle Shin and Uncle Flower a hug, and I thought I saw a tear, like a dropping pearl, fall from her eye. It was just like Grandma’s when we said good-bye. Ghost Month was over, but I had learned that some ghosts never leave.

  Uncle Flower shoved a tightly tied plastic bag at me. “Here,” he said. “Don’t open it until you are on the plane.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “A good-bye present,” he said. “Your Auntie Jin told me to give it to you.”

  Then he smiled, and he and Uncle Shin pushed us forward. As we walked away, we waved using our whole arms, as if we were saying good-bye to all of Taiwan, not just them. We turned the corner, and they disappeared from our sight. It was time to go.

  On the airplane, Mom let me have the seat closest to the window first. “Since you asked first,” Mom said. “But you have to share. In the middle of the flight, you and Lissy can switch.”

  “We’re going to be flying forever! Ugh!” Lissy grumbled. “I don’t mind being home or being in Taiwan—it’s getting there that I don’t like.”

  The flight attendant began to give the talk on airplane safety. We all watched in silence, even though it was in Chinese. She gave it again in English, and we still said nothing. I felt that all of us, even Ki-Ki, were thinking about how our month in Taiwan was now ending.

  The airplane began to move. Faster and faster, the landscape blurred. Then, as if the airplane were taking a deep breath, we were up in the air.

  “Are you sad?” I asked Mom.

  “No,” she said. “Well, a little.”

  I was, too. I wished I could think of something to say. I pulled at my bright pink dress and thought about how we were pink birds again, this time flying home. What had Dad said about traveling, so long ago? “You take something with you, you leave something behind, and you are forever changed,” he had said. “That is a good trip.”

  Our trip to Taiwan had been a good trip, then. We were taking a whole extra suitcase of things with us, and we had left our gifts to Grandma and our goldfish behind. But was I forever changed? In my painting, there were pink birds on bamboo with a chop mark that said “forever.” I was one of the pink birds, and I had wished on the bamboo to like Taiwan. It had happened. My changed feelings for Taiwan would be forever.

  I thought about the fortune-teller who had given me her blessing. She had said her blessing would help me and make me happy. Mom had said it was a lot of nonsense, but I was glad she had blessed me. Maybe it was her blessing that helped me live with my ghosts and find my identity. Maybe it was her blessing that helped me like Taiwan and Taiwan like me. I kicked at the bags at my feet.

  “What’s that bag?” Mom said, pointing at the tightly wrapped plastic bag.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Uncle Flower gave it to me. He said it was a good-bye gift and not to open it until I was on the plane.”

  “Well, open it!” Lissy said.

  I untied the plastic bag and took out a large Chinese food container with a pair of chopsticks taped to it. The container was still warm, and the heat spread to my lap. I took off the chopsticks and opened the flaps, and inside were…

  DUMPLINGS!

  We all laughed.

  “The summer, all those days in Taiwan—it was fun, wasn’t it?” Mom asked.

  “Yes,” I said, nodding. This time, Mom’s idea of fun was exactly the same as mine. “It was.”

  A Note from the Author’s Parents

  WHEN WE READ THIS BOOK, IT BECOMES THE SUMMER, MANY, many years ago when we, with our daughters, returned to Taiwan.

  Before returning, our memories were filled with farmers on the greenish rice paddies and the blue sky. But that was a dreamland, for Taiwan had quickly matured into the rows of high-rises, busy streets, buses, and crowded subways. However, it was still our people, our culture, and our homeland.

  But reading the return through our daughter’s eyes brought back our surprise as well as showing us even more. There were so many things that we thought our children would know—from holding chopsticks to using the toilets—just because we did. Reading this book reminded us how strange the familiar could be. We had thought that bringing our daughters to Taiwan was simply a good experience, one for them to enjoy. We did not expect it would be one of discovery as well.

  The Taiwanese people are extremely warm and close-knit. It is a small island, and people are somehow always connected. There are no boundaries, and people open their hearts, wishing to meet yours.

  Dumpling Days captures this and much more. This is the most memorable book for us because reading it is like coming home. Please come and visit our home.

  You are very welcome here.

  Jer-Shang & Lin-Lin Yang Lin

  Chinese Dumplings

  Ingredients:

  For wrappers:

  1 ½ cups lukewarm water

  5 cups flour

  For filling:

  1 pound ground pork

  1 tablespoon pepper<
br />
  2 tablespoons salt

  1 tablespoon sugar

  2 tablespoons sesame oil

  3 tablespoons soy sauce

  2 tablespoons garlic powder

  ⅓ cup chopped green onion

  ½ pound salt-treated, chopped, boiled Chinese greens (napa cabbage) with as much liquid removed from them as possible (Hint: Twist a clean towel around them and squeeze.)

  1 beaten egg

  Method:

  Make the wrappers:

  1. Add the water into the flour, and mix well. Knead the dough until it is smooth.

  2. Place the dough in a clean bowl, and cover the bowl with a damp cloth. Let the dough sit for 30 minutes.

  3. Knead the dough again, then roll a portion into a log shape. Cut the log into slices, and roll the slices into balls. Repeat with the remaining dough as necessary. You should have about 50 balls.

  4. Sprinkle flour onto your rolling surface, and roll out the balls into flat, round shapes (like small pancakes), about 1/8 inch thick.

  5. Sprinkle some flour onto both sides of those flat wrappers.

  Make the meat filling:

  1. In a big bowl, mix the ground pork, pepper, salt, sugar, sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic powder, and green onion, and stir until the mixture is well blended.

  2. Add the chopped Chinese greens into the pork mixture. Mix well until blended thoroughly.

  Make the dumplings:

  1. Place a small spoonful of the filling mixture onto a wrapper. Lightly brush the edges of the wrapper with the egg.

  2. Fold the wrapper, and seal it into your desired dumpling shape. Repeat until you’ve run out of either the mixture or the wrappers.

  3. Line up the dumplings on a lightly floured tray.

  Cook the dumplings:

  1. Fill a pot with water and bring it to a boil. Place the dumplings in the water, and make sure all the dumplings are submerged. Cover the pot until the water boils again.

  2. Add a cup of cold water, and let it boil again.

  3. Take out the dumplings, serve them with soy sauce (as another option, add chopped garlic or sliced ginger), and eat!

  Thank you for buying this e-book, published by Hachette Digital.

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  Contents

  Welcome

  Dedication

  Chapter 1: A Month in Taiwan

  Chapter 2: On the airplane

  Chapter 3: Uncle Flower

  Chapter 4: Dumplings in Taiwan

  Chapter 5: Visiting Ghosts

  Chapter 6: Eating Dim Sum

  Chapter 7: The art Store

  Chapter 8: The Fortune-Teller

  Chapter 9: The Garbage Truck

  Chapter 10: A Forest of Precious Thoughts

  Chapter 11: Painting Class

  Chapter 12: The Japanese Restaurant

  Chapter 13: audrey Chiang

  Chapter 14: Misery Loves Company

  Chapter 15: Lissy’s Photo Shoot

  Chapter 16: Going to Taichung

  Chapter 17: Hungry on the Train

  Chapter 18: Cousin Clifford

  Chapter 19: Dumplings in Taichung

  Chapter 20: The Market

  Chapter 21: Temple in Lugang

  Chapter 22: The Four Pleasures of Life

  Chapter 23: Traveling at Night

  Chapter 24: Back in Taipei

  Chapter 25: Dumplings at Taipei 101

  Chapter 26: Painting Class, again

  Chapter 27: Lissy’s Photos

  Chapter 28: The Bakery

  Chapter 29: The Last Painting Class

  Chapter 30: The Night Market

  Chapter 31: Trouble

  Chapter 32: Lost

  Chapter 33: Found

  Chapter 34: The Exhibit

  Chapter 35: Being the Best

  Chapter 36: Four Days Left

  Chapter 37: Gift for Grandma

  Chapter 38: Grandma’s Party

  Chapter 39: Lots of Gifts

  Chapter 40: Good-bye!

  A Note from the Author’s Parents

  Chinese Dumplings

  Newsletters

  Copyright

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012 by Grace Lin

  Letter and recipe copyright © 2012 by Grace Lin

  All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Little, Brown and Company

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017

  www.hachettebookgroup.com

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  Second e-book edition: January 2013

  Little, Brown and Company is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

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  ISBN 978-0-316-20385-2

 

 

 


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