Every Chinese New Year: Nian Gao, Please

Last week, my mum said you know Chinese New Year is coming, when the wind rushes down and about the block’s corridor. She said my late dad told her that. I look around the flat and take in the memories, timelessness, and the age of the place. I associate CNY with nian gao, and remember that I took some photos of my mother making fried nian gao last year. I think I wanted some photos for memory’s sake. 

I found them, and thought they were so precious. My mother will no doubt make them again this year, but I remember her posing for me, she smiling at the silliness of it all, and she very earnestly asking me whether I want a shot of this or that stage. 

They look so bashed up but its irresistible sweetness and the love that went into them make them the prettiest food. 

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