Remembering Ba Ngoai with her Pâté Chaud
Back in October of the last year, I lost my grandmother. She lived in Paris and I was thankfully able to attend her funeral. It's been a hard loss, and I'm not sure I've really allowed myself to fully process it all. I loved my grandmother, my ba ngoai , so much. More than I can even grasp. She is how I was able to appreciate food. She is the reason I can fully understand how love can be shown through food and cooking. Her cooking, the smells wafting through her tiny apartment in Paris, are tied to some of my best childhood memories. My ba ngoai taught me how to love everyone. She taught me how to smile in the face of adversity; how the glint in smiling eyes can disarm anyone. Ba ngoai lived through a lot. She lived through a war that tore her home and wealth from her, she lived through re-establishing herself and life in another country, she lived through her brother never coming home, she lived through raising 3 children, she lived through her husbands death...