Unlike My Father, I’m Not a Gatekeeper of Traditional Chinese Foods

My husband and I fell in love while trying to find the best croissant in Paris.

We are foodies.

And when we became parents, we were excited to share our love of food with our kids.

For Yumna Siddiqui-Khan, there's an olfactory memory she carries with her from childhood: chicken corn soup.

Yes, Chef

At home, I’m the one who cooks.

Much like any parent balancing their work and home lives, I've learned to be more creative and resourceful in the kitchen.

Recently, on a cold day, I was particularly swamped at work.

By the time I got home I was beyond pooped. It was the end of the week and we were in desperate need of groceries.

But, of course, the kids were starving.

And it wasn't just them — I was ravenous. And, to add a little fire underneath me, my husband was getting home in an hour.

Instead of ordering in or throwing some chicken fingers in the oven, I saw it as an opportunity to test my resourcefulness and stretch my creativity.

I opened the fridge, hoping to find some leftovers. (Sadly, I was out of luck.) The only thing I could see was a sad and lonely cauliflower sitting in the back of the fridge, slowly wilting away its misspent life.

Food Remixing

I was standing there, thinking about what I could make with it, when my daughter asked if we could have congee for dinner.

Like a prompt to an improv troupe, "congee" got the wheels in my head turning.

I had recently seen someone post a recipe for cauliflower fried rice.

So, I wondered: “What if, instead of fried rice, I made congee with cauliflower?”

I grabbed a big pot and filled half of it with water. I turned on the stove and threw in a healthy spoonful of salt. I then rummaged through my freezer and found a frozen duck carcass from when we had Peking duck for my mom’s birthday. So I tossed that in, too.

Then I started washing the cauliflower and was about to remove the leaves and stem when I remembered that the entire cauliflower is edible. I roughly chopped the cauliflower into chunks and submerged them in the pot of water.

At this stage of free-form dinner creation, I looked around for an additional protein source and something to thicken the congee.

I poured a cup of split red lentils and a cup of jasmine rice grains into a bowl and rinsed them quickly under the tap before adding them in.

Then I went back to the freezer to discover some sweet potatoes I had been saving for my son’s baby food. They were perfect.

With no plan, and a dream, cooking like this can be chaotic, but it can also be deeply satisfying.

When everything came to a boil, I turned the heat down to low, added chicken stock and more salt to taste before allowing it to simmer. When my husband got home from work, I ran upstairs to take a shower — while yelling: 

“Please keep an eye on the pot. Get the bowls ready. Dinner will be ready when I come down.”

If you've been feeling low or like you aren't doing enough or being enough for your family, read this. You're doing a great job.

When It All Works Out

When you cook in this manner, there are no guarantees. Sure, you may use all of your last bits and bobs, but will it taste good?

I could smell the roasted duck flavours wafting in the hallway as I came downstairs to the kitchen. I grabbed a wooden spoon to mix the congee, removed the carcass from the pot, and used a potato masher to break up the cauliflower. Then I grabbed a ladle and served the congee in bowls. I topped them with roasted peanuts, minced green onions and a couple drops of sesame oil.

As my daughter took her first bite, she gave me her signature response:

“好味啊! 唔該晒,媽咪! (So yummy! Thank you, Mommy!)”

And from that day on, I’ve made this dish too many times to count.

Traditions Hard to Break

I never thought there was anything peculiar about it until recently. I was picking my daughter up from my parents’ house when my dad asked me what we were having for dinner.

I nonchalantly said, “Congee.”

He inquired, “Oh, what do you put in it?”

I responded, “Rice, duck, sweet potatoes, lentils …”

As I finished saying “and cauliflower," my dad’s face changed to a look of disgust.

He shook his head, “That’s not congee.”

“It is to me. You and Mom have a very narrow palate," I said, feeling the heat of the moment. "You only like traditional Chinese food like rice with a side of rice. This is my family’s take on congee.”

My daughter overheard our conversation and her face lit up: “Yay! 粥 (congee)!”

I looked at my dad and said, “She likes it. That’s all that matters to me.”

Over the last year, Janice Quirt wondered if any harm would come from breaking with traditions.

Is There a Wrong Way to Make Congee?

Despite growing up with my parents’ traditional palate, I’ve learned to appreciate a wide range of flavours that allow me to be adventurous with my cooking. Cauliflower congee has become a classic dinner in our household. It’s quick, easy, healthy and nutritious.

From the nuttiness of the cauliflower, the starchiness of locally-grown sweet potatoes, the fragrance of jasmine rice to the aromatic five-spice of the roasted duck, it has the blend of flavours that remind me of both my Chinese and Canadian upbringings.

Every time we enjoy it as a family, I like to think the dish connects cultures and generations together, creating a new food tradition that preserves the past and embraces the present.

Maybe when my daughter grows up she’ll put her own spin on the dish.

And unlike my father, I'm so excited to see how it evolves.