Ode to grandma

I was born when grandma is no more in the world, I never saw her real. Since I was a child, I have a strong bond with my grandfather, I often heard him describe the love story with my grandma, leaving me very sentimental.

Grandpa has been missing grandma most of his life. When I recall many years ago, I took an old photo of grandma to an authetic photo developing store to enlarge her photo, with a specially customised dedicated frame so that Grandpa could place in the room, and this way he can see grandma every day. His smiling face when he was receiving the photo was still vivid in my memory.

Grandpa passed a couple of years ago, I was sad while I had to feel relieved that he can get reunited with grandma.

A few days ago we went to worship them, when looking at the photo of grandpa, I recall the scene of us together, however, when I saw the photo of grandma, I felt a certain acquainted and unknown feeling, like there is no memory with her, I have only heard of her from grandfather, and her existence seems to have been never in the same dimension with me.

I returned to my bakery after worship, and was still thinking about this issue of existence, time and space. While still thinking about it, an idea of making a shortbread just popped up. Foreign people have inherited recipes, it is an intimate form of family food left to the generations to follow, allowing a connection between the generations to the next through recipes.

Since I would not have recipes from grandma, I would like to contradict the tradition, so I come to a recipe, make it a dedication to grandma, to make people know that she once existed, and also enable me to have a deliberately made memory with her.

May this {Ode to Grandma} shortbread become an evidence that Grandma and I had existed once together.







The imaginative dimension of me and my grandma
My memory with Grandpa
Date: 2023-04-22 10:17 am