Suckling Pig

Growing up in a Gourmet Paradise, I was taught to eat. Food became an inherent part of my life and I take pleasure in eating every day. On special occasions like the traditional ‘Chinese New Year Dinner’, my family gathers with our relatives to celebrate this very important ritual. Though the objective of this dinner is to gather as a family in this special holiday, my main objective each year is just, to eat. To start the banquet, a suckling pig is served right in the middle of the lazy susan. The whole pig symbolizes completeness in Chinese beliefs, as it is the ‘First Dinner of the Year’. I always doubt the reliability of such beliefs, nonetheless, the suckling pig is succulent with roasted crispy skin and juicy meat. As the long wait till the start of dinner began, I would stare at the suckling pig’s crimson head, with its red blinking eyes (made of cherries) staring back at me. When the laughter of the elderly playing mahjong  started fading away, I would doze off. 

This typical situation always makes me ponder about my ancestors’ practices. Like most people around the world, I am accustomed to greeting people with ‘How are you?’ Traditional Chinese, however, would greet each other with ‘Have you eaten yet?’ - even right after having a meal. Perhaps, food really tops fashion, living or even recreation in Hong Kong culture. At least, it does in my family. 

“Cheers!” I was immediately awakened by the noise of clattering glasses. Our eyes were all fixed on the mouth-watering pig, but none of my relatives were bold enough to take the first move. After all, it is an essential manner to let the eldest have the first pick. My stomach started rumbling, craving for food. The truth is, I get hungry every hour. I was annoyed by this undelightful situation. I gazed around, but everyone stayed as rigid as the suckling pig.

I do regard the old Confucian tradition of respecting the elderlies of the family. They are the “wiser” people who play leading roles in holding the extended family together. Ironically, though the meaningful family value behind the tradition is deeply rooted in me, I do not like to be held back by certain rituals. And moreover, when my stomach was rumbling stridently, my instinct told me that I had to take the first move. I lifted my chopsticks tranquilly, trying not to arouse any attention. Leaning forward, I placed them on the most alluring piece of meat. I squeezed my fingers tightly, hoping to capture it without failing. Then, there was a tug on my waist.  

I peeked around under my chopsticks, meeting my mom’s ominous eyes at the edge of my sight. My mom lowered her voice and started whispering something I could not understand. I stared at her, with my chopsticks still hopelessly dangling above the dish.

No, I did not want to ruin the dinner even though I love food too much.

With my other hand, I swirled the lazy susan towards my eldest uncle and stopped it right in front of him. I faked a smile on my cherry-red face. “After you, Uncle!” I joyously exclaimed.