A smile increases your face value

This has been stuck in the bottom of my purse for a long time, only to be rediscovered a few days ago when I cleaned a pocket out. I remember I kept it because it was a bit corny, even for a fortune cookie, but it was also completely and totally epic. One of those it's-so-bad-it's-good types of things. The best part is, every time I look at it, I smile.

It has more than one meaning for me now, with my soy allergy and the possibility of giving up Chinese/Korean (and Asian food in general) for the rest of my life. As far as I know, my reaction wasn't ever serious (see my other blog for details), but since there's almost no information on EE (eosinophilic esophagitis) and since every patient is different, there's no way to know if having soy again in such high quantities will result in a mild or severe reaction. I get to err on the side of caution. With my shellfish and treenut allergy, I only half knew what I was missing out on. It wasn't that big a deal, the only thing I really wanted was crab dip and that was about it. The soy allergy is a whole other story.

My uncle and my Dad in Korea, 1976

Aunt Jane with a portrait of Uncle Archer

I come from a family of missionaries. My grandfather (Uncle Archer's brother) was born in China where his parents were missionaries. My Uncle Archer ran a mission in Korea, called Jesus Abbey (where both pictures above were taken). Growing up, we had a lot of Asian influence. I learned to use chopsticks at the same time I learned a knife and fork. My siblings and I have adopted Korea as part of our heritage and culture. Soy sauce flows like water in Korean cooking, soy is in just about everything they make and not as a preservative. Now imagine a Korean who was allergic to soy, and I'm a bit like that. My favorite food of all time, Bulgogi (Korean BBQ essentially), is now on my No-No List of things I can't have. I have very early memories of my dad making Bulgogi on our kitchen table with a small propane range, of serving the beef onto my plate as soon as it's cooked, being too excited to wait for it to cool, and not caring that the hot juices burned my tongue. The beef marinades for at least 24 hours, making the entire fridge smell good for that time. When it cooks, the whole house smells delicious for days.


So eat all your crabs and shrimp, take as many walnuts and almonds as you want, eat it all in front of me and I won't say a word. I just want to taste Bulgogi again. That fortune may be my last fortune, although I dearly hope not.