Roots and Recipe Final Draft

            Knowing that news year day is just around the corner I couldn’t wait for it to start. Once the clock hit twelve I was jumping for joy because I knew my grandmother’s ozoni soup was coming soon. Waiting in my room just listening to the silence until I heard the door creek open and footsteps tip toeing to the kitchen. I instantly unwrapped myself from all the blankets trying not to make a sound. Once I got untangled from all the blankets I saw my sister twisting and turning left and right. I thought I woke her up with my yawning and footsteps but she was just trying to get comfy. Once I opened the door I got trampled by my dog. Getting licked and scratch by his paws. I tried to close the door as delicately as possible but still trying to keep the pace going.

            Once I finally got the door closed I raced down the hall trying not to wake my mom or sister up. Suddenly my dog thinks we are having a race so he runs with me. Making straddling noises. I finally got to the kitchen I saw my grandmother straining the Kastuobushi (dried thin fish) in the sliver sink. The smoke started to rise from the sink making light puffy clouds that look like bunnies.  She took a green bowl and started to throw in the dried shiitake mushrooms. I hovered over the bowl as the mushrooms soak up more and more water until it was about to explode. The mushrooms look like big bouncy balls.

            I ask my grandmother “Why is ozoni soup important to our family”? “So the next generation of our family understands Japanese traditions,” she replied while taking out the big juicy shiitake mushrooms from the green bowl. As my grandmother took the broth from the Kastuobushi and the broth from the shiitake mushrooms it smelt like heaven. Mixing the two broths together make perfect harmony. Once the broth was on the stove top the smell of Kastubushi and shiitake mushrooms filled the house. Every inch of our house was filled with the smell of love.

            Once the broth the boiling my grandmother started to cook the pork I wondered, “Why use pork”? My grandmother told me “Since shes from Okinawa, Okinawa’s like to use pork instead or chicken, plus its pork is more commonly found than chicken”.  Finally when the ozoni soup was done my grandmother took a shiny sliver ladle spoon and severed us each a big spoonful of mochi, shiitake mushrooms, pork, kamaboko and mizuna. All the ingredients were put together and they fit like pieces to a puzzle. I look at the ozoni  reflecting about this past year and the ups and down that my family and I went through. 

               I asked my grandmother “What memories do you with ozoni soup”. She told me she remembers “Sitting down with her mother, father, three brothers, and two sisters eating ozoni soup on news years day”. My uncles and aunties finally arrived we sat around the clear circle dinning table enjoying the ozoni. Before I took a bit of the ozoni I admired all the ingredients that went into making this dish, the grilled chewy mochi, the tender moist pork, the julienne mizuna, and the juicy crispy shiitake mushrooms. 

              As I took my first bit I immediately wanted to take a second.  I finally understood the true meaning of ozoni soup and what it means to my grandmother and myself. Now I can’t wait to make the ozoni soup for my family and the future to come.