A little while back the Vietnamese brothers prepared a special meal for one of our feasts days. We had soup, spring rolls, fried rice, and a few other items I can’t remember the name of them.
Afterwards, I went back to thank them for everything. I mentioned that soup with Raman noodles wasn’t real Phở. (It’s pronounced “fa” but don’t ask me about Vietnamese phonetics.)
The brother responded that his family would kill him if he called this Phở. They didn’t have the ingredients or the know-how, so they made Raman soup.
Phở has become a popular dish back in Canada. When I was home, I was with a few young men and one asked the Vietnamese in the group what the secret that made it taste so good was. He thought for a second and responded “Love.” We prodded a little more but couldn’t get any more information.
We speak of love as the core of the best foods we have. Thanksgiving turkey is great, but it is so much better cooked by someone we love and eaten in family. Most of us think that our mom is the best cook in the world because she cooks with love. (Obviously, you all are missing something because MY mom is truly the best cook; have you ever tasted her Lasagna?)
Shouldn’t love be the center of all we do, not just all we eat? Just imagine how much more enjoyable this world would be if all our relations were based on love.
Very cool brother great article