This is a memoir about loss, grief and what's it's like to be an Asian-American struggling to find where you belong, and even force your way through it and perhaps going as far as suppressing huge elements about yourself to make yourself fit into one box .Most importantly, this book is about Chongmi, what an extraordinary woman she was. Of her hobbies and interest of her memories in Korea and the memories she cherished with her loved ones and the special bond that food has created between her and her daughter Michelle. Which also served as a connecting bridge for Michelle to her Korean heritage and family and to keep her most precious memories with her mother.
Michelle's memoir has reminded me of my myself so unexpectedly it shook me to my core. Of those painful teenage years when you're still struggling to understand yourself to a deeper level, and your parents even more. To be completely blunt, it has reminded me of how much of a little shit I was while also reminding me of how much I have overcome in terms of personal issues and blood-tied relationships.
I genuinely had to stop myself from surrendering to my tears and just sob, because everything was written to transmit how grief, another form of love, felt like to Michelle and the many hurdles she had to overcome