“Sophy, we’re having cold noodles today!”

This was my favorite phrase of the summer when I still lived in Shanghai. Actually, I never experienced a summer without hearing this. For as long as I can remember, the flavor of cold noodles has been attractive to me. I can even say that I grew up with cold noodles, and my childhood wouldn’t have been complete without them. I remember—the texture was a little chewy but not too hard; the refreshing taste took away the heat of summer; the sauce made out of peanut butter provided a sweet flavor; the sweet was blended well with the sour that came from vinegar. Most importantly, I remember—the many times when our family cooked the noodles together as a summer ritual, and I was the first one to take the first bite every time. Hence, when I think about cold noodles, those beautiful memories that come to me include not only the noodles themselves, but also the taste of family, the taste of being loved, which has accompanied my growth. As I have always been the one taken care of, I chose this dish as a chance to express my gratitude and love towards them in return.

Shanghai cold noodles are noodles that are steamed first, then boiled, cooled down, and seasoned at last. It was believed that Shanghai cold noodles came from the cold noodles in North Korea. After they were introduced into China, people in Shanghai modified them into a new recipe. However, not long after Shanghai cold noodles appeared in the markets, they went through a challenging time. In 1949, the health authorities banned the sale of cold noodles because they were washed with tap water. As a result, the cooking of noodles was modified into the way people make them now. Surprisingly, this modification not only allowed cold noodles to come back and become a summer tradition for almost everyone who grows up in Shanghai, but it also improved their texture quality and added to their nutritional value. The main nutrients of these noodles are protein, fat, and carbohydrates. Noodles are easy for people to digest and absorb; they can also help with anemia, immunity, and a balance in nutrition absorption. In addition, people usually eat the noodles with vegetable-based toppings, which is actually consistent with the fan-cai principle discussed in class. In this case, noodles are the fan, and the various toppings are the cai. Also, because the noodles are cold, most people in Shanghai only have them in the summer months. They can be found at any restaurant that serves Shanghai specialties. For me, I was lucky enough to have them every summer because there was a restaurant known for cold noodles near our home, and my family never forgot to buy or make them when summer came.

My parents divorced when I was little, so I have lived with my mother and grandparents since then. Although my family is probably not as complete as others, the love and care I have received from them are never deficient. Therefore, my happiest moments are not just enjoying the taste of summer brought by the cold noodles themselves. At first, my grandparents just bought the noodles from the restaurant nearby because I loved the taste from that particular restaurant so much. However, one extremely hot summer my grandmother suggested we make the noodles at home instead of going out in the burning weather. That was my first time watching how the cold noodles were made from beginning to end. My grandfather, as the “chef” in our family, steamed and then cooked the noodles over the stove, which finally made the noodles bouncy; my grandmother took out many bottles and began to add and mix different seasonings into a little bowl, which made the sauce look exactly the same as what we usually bought from the restaurant; my mother cooked the toppings and helped my grandfather cool the noodles down, using a fan to make the process faster. And I—everyone told me to just sit down and wait for the final dish, but I was so curious that I walked around the kitchen to see what everyone was doing and was eager to help. I did successfully help a little bit by using the fan for a while and putting all the plates and chopsticks onto the dining table.

“It’s done,” said my grandfather, who took away my empty plate, put a good number of noodles, toppings, and sauce onto it, and mixed the noodles for me. I didn’t know if it was because the noodles were homemade, or because it was the first time we made them together, but they were the best noodles ever. Gradually, cooking cold noodles became our family tradition and summer ritual, connecting us together and bringing happiness to our summer. The process of everyone cooking together and being responsible for different parts of the meal is what I really loved—I guess that is why we call it a “family ritual.” At first, I only paid attention to the process of cooking. It wasn’t until I grew older that I realized something much deeper than this. For example, I was always the first to enjoy the dish; my grandfather gave the noodles to me first and mixed them for me; my grandmother asked me how the sauce tasted to make sure I liked it; my mother asked for my favorite toppings so I would enjoy what she cooked. Therefore, what makes the noodles taste so good is actually not only the ingredients but also the love from them that has always stayed with me, as well as the interpretation of family that they have brought to me: love is hidden in all the little things in life, and family is all about interdependence and supporting each other.

After I moved to Las Vegas with my mother and stepfather, we still try hard to keep this family ritual going every year. One thing I am very sure about is that even if now we are not physically living together, love and support never fade away. I would say, instead, distance even makes the love stronger and reinforces my concept of family. However, the pandemic makes it impossible for our family to have cold noodles together this summer. Therefore, I cooked the cold noodles only for my mother this time, and I promised my grandparents that I would make noodles for them next summer. While making these noodles, the scene of my whole family preparing cold noodles came back to me, which made me feel warm and motivated. When the noodles were done, I took a plate, put plenty of noodles and toppings onto it, and gave it to my mom—just as my family always does for me. I showed them to my grandparents, too. Even though they were not here, I believe they received my message of love. Watching my mom enjoy the dish, I think I can also understand better about what drives my family to love and care about me all the time. It is something simple but meaningful: when you love somebody, you just want to make them happy. And it is time for me to take care of them.