Story : 

I remember hearing the loud clanging sounds of my Mom digging through the cabinets to find the pot she wants to cook Misoshiru, a Japanese soy paste soup that is eaten as a side dish everynight. Hearing this from my room, I knew it was time to take a break from my 2nd-grade homework and come downstairs to help my mom cook. I would grab the dashi jar, a Japanese soup stock, and add a little less than a spoonful to the boiling pot of water, and watch it become a rich golden broth. Before adding the veggies to the pot, I watched my mom prepare and chop up the bright green Hakusai and crispy Daikon, and wonder how she didn’t cut any of her fingers. 

Once the veggies were cooked it was time for me to start cutting up the tofu into bite-size cubes and throw them into the pot with the veggies. I would also sprinkle in the dark green wakame and mix in the salty miso paste and let it simmer. After you waited for the soup to simmer for a little while, it made dinner complete. 

It was the same side-dish soup we ate every dinner, yet, my family always looked forward to it. If I follow my mom’s recipe, I remember the strong umami smell or always having to grab a napkin to clean up my sister’s mess, and having to wait for my dad to finish eating since he was always a slow eater. 

Now during the late weeknights, instead of hearing the pots and pans clang, I quietly grab a small pot and follow my mom’s recipe, to avoid waking my family up. Instead of watching the steam rise from the soup with curiosity or enjoying treasured moments with my family, I sit down and do my homework as I wait for the soup to quietly simmer. 

Maybe it’s because the house is so quiet or I’m getting older, but I’ve been looking forward to the weekend dinners. Not just because my misoshiro doesn’t taste quite like my Moms, but because I miss sitting down with my family and having family time, like when my mom scolded my sister saying, “手で食べない! (Don’t eat with your hands)” or listening to random stories my dad likes to tell. Sometimes I wonder, will I have more family dinners, or are these the last?