EDITOR’S CHOICE AWARD
By HUINA ZHENG
Ma upholds the virtue of hands crafting food over machines so I tear lettuce with my hands, layering leaf upon leaf, imitating their natural state, my fingertips grazing morning dew. Ma cherishes the bold symphony in traditional cold dishes, dressed in salt, vinegar, sugar, soy sauce, sesame oil, minced garlic. Yet, my palate leans towards the refreshing ensemble of Western salads. Too bland, Ma critiques. A drizzle of lemon juice, a scattering of croutons, a splash of olive oil, with a handful of finely chopped green onions and a hint of five-spice—Ma deems it peculiar. Just garlic and chili, nothing more is traditional. Ignoring, I blend, letting my taste dance amidst raw flavors. With a fork, I elevate my uniquely mixed leaves, weaving the essence of East and West in each gesture, seasoning with care, pairing with thought. Ma samples. To her, it’s merely leaves in dressing, light and crisp. An oddity, like a horse sprouting cow horns. A coffee-drinker more than tea, I experiment with salads, merging cultures, or sometimes not at all. How do you savor the dish’s authentic flavor? Ma asks. With fork and chopsticks in hand, I navigate the delicate balance between the old and the new.