Changing Gears

Rosalyn Park of Minnesota writes:

My parents emigrated from South Korea to Iowa in the early 1960s. My mother struggled with the dualities of raising children the American-born way and being the wife of a traditional Korean man. Every night, she would cook two dinners: a Korean meal for my father, and an American one for us girls.

Over time, as my tastes expanded, I grew to truly appreciate Korean food.

One tradition in particular really epitomizes this shift. Growing up, my mother would make traditional Korean potstickers (mandu) once a year. It was a huge ordeal—everything was made by hand. We’d sit down and make mandu for hours.

Being the last of 3 daughters, I eventually found myself facing this daunting task alone. I’d come home from high school to see the big mandu bowl and be filled with dread—it was like a bad Chinese movie: Night of Three Million Eggrolls. I’d sit at the kitchen counter, hand stuffing each mandu by myself and thinking wearily of the unfair plight handed to Sister Number 3.

Eventually, though, as I went away to college and moved out of the house, my mother turned the mandu-making into a special event. Since we all came home for Christmas, she decided we would make it for the holidays.

To top it off, my Buddhist-born mother—now a converted Catholic—went out and bought Santa hats, which she forced us each to wear as we made mandu.

Over the years, our Christmas making mandu tradition has expanded, and we now invite close friends to participate in the event, open a bottle or two of wine, and make merry.

It’s actually become a fun tradition that I look forward to, and this year, I found myself rearranging my holiday schedule so I could get home and be there to make mandu.