Coming from a first-generation immigrant family, I believe that one thing remains constant across all cultures: the taste of love.

Under the influence of Confucianism, we, Chinese people, are often quite restrained when expressing such a strong emotion as love. Instead of saying “I love you,” the warmth of love is often communicated through actions and by taking care of each other. One aspect that stands out the most is food; every family reunion, festival, or special occasion is accompanied by food. And this practice has gradually transformed into a symbol for familial love.

When I was growing up in China, the elders in my family always took great care of me when it came to food. Every time I visited my grandparents, they brought out every snack they had and filled the table with plates of delicious cuisines. I would always leave with a full stomach, pockets of food, and my grandparents’ love. Especially during the Spring Festival, the most important traditional Chinese festival of all, I would always go to visit my grandparents and we would celebrate together with a family reunion dinner. Various kinds of meat, vegetables, and seafood were made into dishes with auspicious meanings, to wish our loved ones a lucky new year. The feast would always be spent in joy, laughter, and a warm sensation of family.

Even when our family came to Australia, our tradition of love, food, and belonging also followed us here. Our first Spring Festival in Australia was spent at our friends’ house. They welcomed us like family, and although we were separated from my grandparents in China, the comfort of familiar food and people in a foreign place still consoled our hearts. As we slowly adapted to life in Australia, my mother, who was once a very inexperienced cook back in China, eventually taught herself to become a wonderful cook. Just to satisfy my Asian appetite, she would wake up even earlier than me, hours before I went off to school or swimming trainings, to cook me meals. At school, I’m always grateful and deeply moved when I eat the warm meal from my lunchbox, instead of the cold packed food many others buy from the canteen. My friends always compliment my mum’s food and beg me to share. They often wonder why home cooked meals taste better than meals bought elsewhere.

I know the secret ingredient for its tastiness and why the taste lingers on the tongue: it’s the taste of love.