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176 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2013
When mothers taught their daughters to cook, they spoke in hushed tones, whispering so that their neighbours couldn’t steal recipes and possibly seduce their husbands with the same dishes. Culinary traditions are passed on secretly, like magic tricks between master and apprentice.
My husband just had to turn towards me and I would understand my wifely duty. It was enough for him to be happy for all of us to be.
I still knew nothing about this man who had suddenly become the centre of my universe, though I had neither centre nor universe.
Only Luc had observed that slight discoloration of my skin long enough to make out a map of the world there and to draw the road he would walk along towards me.
I wanted him to taste the pleasure of feeling the crepe give way and crack between his lips. I could feel the fine crust melting in his mouth and disappearing instantly, as fast as the beating of wings. And I hurried to wrap the second mouthful with a leaf of white mustard so it would leave a hint of bitterness and freshness on his tongue.
I wanted to show how there are so many stories behind immigrants that we tend to forget to look at. The Vietnamese community is so quiet. They work hard, you never think that there's a story behind them. I have made this mistake myself. There are many shades of people around us which we don't take the time to look into. This book is about that. The next time you meet an immigrant or a person from abroad working in some restaurant, take some time to talk to them.