I had arranged samples of the ginger shrimp balls on a large tray. Toasted bread cut into small cubes hid a juicy center made of minced shrimp and ginger: bite-size, golden hors d'oeuvres with an addictive crunch.

The next morning I invited Celia over for a breakfast of congee with pickled cucumbers and shredded pork. The dried scallop and duck wings added an extra dimension of flavors to the plainness of the rice porridge. Crowned with delicate rings of spring onion and golden bits of fried garlic, the bowls of steaming porridge were comfort food. Our toppings of choice were crunchy pickled cucumbers and sweet shredded pork floss.

I stared, losing myself in the fond memories of chocolates in their paper shells at Christmas, in the surprise and discovery of the filling inside, the strong, earthy scent of cacao, and the taste of the trinity- the over-the-top sweetness of the white chocolate, the smooth finish of milk, and the bitterness of the dark.

Prawn and lobster brains were considered a delicacy for their rich flavor. The Shen twins and Celia were engaged in the same practice, sipping the heads as if they were miniature cups of mead.

Yin-yang fried rice was a feast for the eyes and the senses. Swirls of cream contrasted with an orange tomato sauce to form the iconic pattern. Underneath the sauces lay a bed of yang chow fried rice containing a bounty of minced jewels: barbecued pork, Chinese sausage, peas, carrots, spring onions, and wisps of egg. Slices of white onions and pork emerged from the tomato sauce while shrimp and sweet green peas decorated the cream.

Sesame oil sizzled in the air, popping out of a hot wok filled with stir-fried enoki mushrooms, mustard greens, baby bok choy, and strips of pork tenderloin. My mother had danced by the stove against snakes of smoke emanating from sticks of sandalwood incense stuck in nearby pots of ash. scent filled our Chinatown apartment.

The universe unfurled in such unpredictable ways. We all moved in a constant celestial dance. The song ends and the music and our partner may change, but in order to survive we must continue dancing.

Her store was small but cozy. Pastel vases presented fresh pink peonies on the windowsills while Teresa Tang sang through the speakers. My lifelong love affair with tea had begun here at a very young age. I'd had my formal introduction to rooibos, matcha, chai, maté, and pu'erh, all seducing me with their floral, fruity, earthy scents.

Anything worth having involves some measure of pain and work. Because of this, you will treasure it more.

The recipes ran the gamut of vegetarian, fish, chicken, beef, pork, noodles, soups, stews, and desserts. They also spanned cuisines from Cantonese, Sichuan, Shanghainese, and even Taiwanese. My grandmother must have expanded her repertoire. The care and poetry of each recipe was accentuated by its simple instructions and colorful anecdotes.