A college student in Seattle, WA confronts food in its many forms - in restaurants, the quick bites in between classes and work, and, perhaps most importantly, she confronts the great puzzle of how to feed herself now that her mother doesn't make dinner...

Sunday, April 20, 2008

A Mother's Love

I realized when we were making our obento in class on Thursday that while Japanese mothers might indeed prepare the obento to live up to a standard set forth by the Japanese school system and Japanese government, they also do it out of love.

My mother never spent an extraordinary amount of time molding rice balls or cutting octopodal figures out of wieners and carrots... but she did pack my lunch, and I remember there being a great amount of care involved - more than I wished she would have spent. All of the other children I went to school with seemed to have ordinary lunches: a pbj or ham sandwich, an apple, and a couple of oreos. There were times when I desperately wanted one of those ordinary lunches. But my mother was more creative than that. I would get soup in a thermos, maybe a hard-boiled egg. I remember for awhile getting breadless sandwiches in my lunch - little rolls of lunchmeat and cheese held together with toothpicks, accompanied by crackers. My mother had made these because she knew that I did not much care for bread. And she was right: I didn't like bread, and her version of a sandwich was much tastier than other moms'. But as much as I liked these breadless sandwiches, I didn't want her to make them for me. They were too different from the lunches that my classmates brought to school, and the last thing that I wanted was to be different. And perhaps - though I wasn't really conscious of this thought at the time - perhaps I didn't want it to seem that my mother cared for me as much as she did. Cool kids were more independent, and they didn't let their moms coddle them. Eventually Mom gave up and gave in, telling me to buy lunch or pack my own, and when she did pack it for me, she would make a perfectly ordinary, run-of-the-mill, boring lunch - exactly what I had asked for.

Looking back, I have a new appreciation for what my Mom did for me. Those lunches were a symbol of her creativity, her knowledge of her daughter's likes and dislikes, her devotion - exactly what the obento are for Japanese moms. I was reminded, and appreciated anew, my mother's lunchmaking ability when she packed a lunch for me last week. I had been selected to go to the Democratic county convention to select delegates to the state convention, discuss a platform, and listen to a lot of really long campaign speeches by local and state politicians. The convention would be an all-day affair, and I was supposed to bring a sack lunch. That Saturday, my mother woke up early and made me a lunch, complete with her famous crispy oatmeal cookies. She had gotten up at six AM to bake the cookies so they would be ready for my lunch... and oh, they were good, just as I had remembered them from my childhood, when she and my Nana used to make them to put in those labored-over lunches. And I realized, once again, how much my Mom loves me.



CRISPY OATMEAL COOKIES




1c. shortening


1c. brown sugar


1c. white sugar


2 eggs


1/2 tsp salt


1 tsp baking soda


1 1/2 c. flour


3c. "quick" oatmeal


1 tsp vanilla





  1. Combine all ingredients. Blend well. Refrigerate for 4 hours, or overnight.

  2. Roll into small balls and place on a greased baking sheet a little distance apart.

  3. Grease the bottom of a small glass. Dip into granulated sugar and press cookie flat. Repeat sugar dip and press for each cookie.

  4. Bake at 375 degrees for ten to 12 minutes, or until light brown.

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