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Part of it is also that I come from a culture where families are so emotionally repressed that without the shared partaking of food we would have almost no means of emotional exchange with each other. (Many Chinese people be like that)

A lot of our meaningful relationships are forged over specific meals or dishes.

When I take the time to cook the salted vegetable and duck soup that my grandma used to make for me, I think of her, and how I miss the hot days lazing about drinking the soup she made and how much she loved me.