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Thuy Diem Pham - The Little Viet Kitchen

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Thuy Diem Pham The Little Viet Kitchen

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Introduction - photo 1

Introduction - photo 2

Introduction Me aged 3 in front of grandmas house The photo was - photo 3

Introduction Me aged 3 in front of grandmas house The photo was - photo 4

Introduction

Me aged 3 in front of grandmas house The photo was taken to send to London - photo 5

Me aged 3 in front of grandmas house The photo was taken to send to London - photo 6

Me, aged 3, in front of grandmas house. The photo was taken to send to London for dad. 1985, Cu Ngang, Vietnam.

The ground was always warm; at midday it was unbearable to walk outside the house. The sandy roads were so hot on my little feet but I had to save my slippers for special occasions. Dad had sent them in a big paper box all the way from England! They were so special to me and I wanted them to be perfect for the day I would meet him. I was never really sure what he looked like as hed left for England when I was only three years old, but no one would have guessed that considering how often and how proudly I spoke about him to the other school kids. I spoke of him often, despite not really knowing him at all. Talking about him brought hope for my sister me, and a little comfort for my mother.

I had no idea what London promised, but even at a young age, I understood that we needed to leave the farm if we wanted a chance at a proper education and successful career. If Im honest, I was a little confused as I was very happy, but often saw mum crying at night. At the time, I could only assume she missed dad. All I knew was that dad had to leave to seek a better life for us, risking his own at sea, with no guarantee of success or return to his home country. These are the sacrifices a father makes for his children, and for that I will always be indebted to him.

However, staying in Vietnam was by no means any less of a sacrifice on my mothers part. Having two children and the farm and no husband around meant that she played two roles. But a mothers love for her children is never measurable; she did everything in her power to keep us safe and happy. No words can fully describe a mothers love. Mum made selfless decisions and sacrifices without regret. She kept her dreams at bay to protect her children from harm and the reality of life with little yet love in abundance. She has made me the tough woman I am today.

My mum showed us love in many ways. When extravagant gifts were not an option, she expressed them through the dishes she put on the table for her family. The ingredients may not have been sophisticated, nor presented too luxuriously, but oh my, the smell of those delicious home cooked Vietnamese treats always let me know how much my mummy loved me and my siblings. She cooked with creativity, modesty and love. She stayed strong like it was her duty, loved like it was a blessing and lived to pave the way for her children.

My big sister M Hnh and me in our New Years outfits made by mum with our - photo 7

My big sister M Hnh and me in our New Years outfits, made by mum, with our brand new shoes! We dont look happy but I promise we were over the moon, if not just a little scared of the big man with the camera. 1986, Cu Ngang, Vietnam.

My grandparents took us in for a while, as we were made homeless very soon after dad left. Ive been told the house is never quiet when Im around; so I can only assume I was a delight to their home! Mums parents could not afford to feed an extra three mouths, but they would never turn us away, and if anything were secretly happy to have mum home again.

Eventually mum found a new home for us, but every few days she would make the six-hour journey north to Saigon to sell food on the streets. On these days she would get home very late and so my sister and I would stay at our grandparents house. I always loved our visits there. They owned a small rice farm and had what seemed to me a huge house, although in reality it was just a single room about the size of a large living room in the UK with blankets hanging down to make separate rooms. They had a garden with lots of fruit trees coconuts, mangoes, bananas, guavas, Vietnamese cherries, sugar-apples and rose-apples, amongst others. They had lemongrass and Thai basil growing everywhere and even a rag tag collection of scrawny farm animals grazing randomly around the garden. And most importantly, they always had something cooking in the kitchen that smelled amazing.

Me 3 years old with my big sister and mummy posing somewhat awkwardly for a - photo 8

Me, 3 years old, with my big sister and mummy, posing somewhat awkwardly for a photo to send to dad. This was the first photo we sent him; we werent sure it would even get to him, but we were hopeful. 1984, Tr Vinh, Vietnam.

The contrast of being often surrounded by food and yet not always having enough for dinner is, I think, where my deep love and respect for food really began. Plus Ive always had a bottomless appetite so have spent my whole life either eating, or thinking about what Ill be eating next!

On those days at the farm I would constantly follow grandma around trying to be helpful with the daily chores. Looking back on it Im sure that I was more of a hindrance than a help, but at the time I was certain I was an essential assistant that she couldnt possibly manage without. Grandma always looked and sounded angry, yet had a kind and mischievous glint in her eyes. After the chores were done she would call me over to her and I would run as fast as I could because I knew what that meant it was always delicious! She would wear a well-worn, patchwork o b ba, a traditional Vietnamese shirt, worn by both men and women in the rural areas of the Mekong Delta. It had two small pockets on the front, and as if by magic, sweet treats would appear from them! Normally this was either ko da, a coconut caramel wrapped in rice paper, or ko m xng, a brittle sesame candy. My favourite though, was me ngo ng, a deliciously chewy tamarind sweet. I guess it could probably be considered a fairly meagre payment for a days work on the farm, but I was very happy with the deal then and Id probably be tempted by it again today!

At the time, what I really wanted was to be an adult, as that way Id be allowed to help with the cooking rather than just the cleaning or the other chores around the farm. However, it was more likely because I thought once Id learned to cook Id be able to eat all the time!

My memories of my grandpa are different. Whilst grandma never stopped moving and did everything at a frightening pace, grandpa was the complete opposite. He would always sit on the front porch sipping on tea, often alone unless guests came. He wouldnt say much, often nothing at all. Calm, kind and wise-looking, he rarely smiled or laughed. Everyone seemed to fear grandpa but I never understood why. Looking back as an adult I can see that actually the people of our village just had an incredible respect for him but that was something I couldnt understand at that young age. I sometimes sat with him to keep him company, but grandma would always shoo me away saying you cant sit there. Go outside and play. This would puzzle me because surely he wanted company and who better than his favourite granddaughter?! I would constantly ask him questions as there seemed so much to learn about being a grown up and he always seemed to have all of the answers!

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