My Food Is My Silent Scream

One thing I’ve learned as my life becomes more seasoned: it’s about showing respect to the food, not just the cuisine.

How long did those ingredients take to grow before they made it to your plate? Consider the resources: time, soil, water, and labor. You can express your flavor profile with ingredients, but keep three as the star of the show. Let the others be supporting actors.

I’ve always said this about smoke. In BBQ, one of the hardest cooking mediums, the protein is the star. Not the smoke.

As I type this out, thinking about where to go next, it hits me. This dish represents something bigger. It’s about restraint to gain balance. It’s layered in texture, emotion, and spirit. It would send anyone straight to HSB, that’s Craveable. The kind that makes you close your eyes.

It’s about being purposeful. Thinking through every element: how it’s prepared, how it connects to the next. What flavor marries what texture? What story does each layer tell?

It’s about teaching yourself something new.

Stop telling yourself, “I’m not good at…”

That is you. That’s a story you’ve repeated. Reframe it: “I need to own it. I need to get better at it.” The only way to improve is to do it.

It’s like when I learned to use a Cantonese wok. I had to learn to breathe the motion. Let it become second nature. People call it muscle memory. But that phrase doesn’t do it justice. You don’t just move. You become it. That old saying, practice makes perfect?

No.

Practice makes peace.

I see growth. I see someone putting themselves out there and saying, “This is me.”

This is raw, unfiltered, and layered.

This person is not hiding anymore.

Look at the techniques used in this dish.

That takes patience.

But really? It’s passion. The two go hand in hand.

Braising.

You sear the meat for a perfect crust.

You sweat the mirepoix, deglaze, and scrape the fond.

You build the sauce layer by layer.

You reduce. You put the meat back in.

You cover it and let it take its beef bath.

That’s where the magic happens.

All this takes time.

And that’s the biggest thing I’ve learned.

I will never get it back.

So stop fucking worrying and believe in yourself.

So what if you’ve reinvented yourself so many times you don’t even know who the “real” you is anymore.

Surprise.

You’re a better human because of it.

The layers tell a story, too.

That sweet, cream-thick potato with deep, spicy, crunchy chili garlic crisp? That’s me.

Complex. Bold. Hidden sweetness. Pain with texture.

I’ve never really been heard. I’ve always had to fight to be seen. I’ve always battled just to exist out loud.

I’ve always known that.

But this hits differently now.

My food is my silent scream.

That’s why the flavors are layered. Like my trauma.

That garlic pistachio powder didn’t just add crunch. It added bite. Surprise. A twist.

Umami. Texture. Depth.

And I’m realizing something now.

When you understand things more simply,

Life doesn’t have to be so complex.

Food teaches you about life.

The DIsh - Mock smoked braised brisket | roasted asparagus | garlic chili crisp Okanawa sweet potatoes | wilted spinach | crispy garlic pistachio powder

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