Roots and Recipes Final Draft

After the last prayer has been made to our ancestors, I rapidly run to the kitchen as my favorite part of Chinese New Year is about to begin. I've been waiting anxiously for almost an entire year for this moment. It was time to make my mom’s scrumptious Jin Dui.
         Every time I hear the words Jin Dui I think of how my mom makes it taste and look better than any other eatery. The crispy, golden brown coating and the soft and sweet inside is just the most incredible combination ever made. Every bite reminds me of each Chinese New Year our family has spent together. In my head I see everyone greet each other by saying, "Gung He Fat Choy!" and my mom placing all of my favorite traditional dishes on the dining table. Aunts, Uncles, Grandmas, and Grandpas would walk around distributing Lei See -which is a red envelope full of money- to all the kids and wish each other a great Chinese New Year. I’d rush to take each one I receive to my room along with the others.  By the end of the night, we've all received hundreds and hundreds of dollars to start our New Year that symbolize good luck. After we've had our dinner we are all so full we can't take another bite, but we somehow find a way to save a little room for dessert.
         As a child I never hesitated with helping my mom make this dessert. Even to this day I wouldn't mind. The more I help, the closer I’ll be to devouring it. She begins by gently pouring in all the ingredients needed to make the dough. With a container of water in one hand, she gradually pours it while mixing with the other. I’d watch as her agile hands incorporate every ingredient while carefully kneading the dough to perfection. The way she does it with confidence shows how long she's been doing it and how much she loves doing it. She gently pinches the dough to make sure it’s the right consistency for the next step. I hear my name from across the kitchen. Immediately I know exactly what to do. I grab a chunk of dough and flatten it with my fingertips. I see a bowl right next to me with the next ingredient. I grab a piece of black bean paste and insert it in the center of the dough while forming the entire thing into a ball. I top it all off with sprinkles of sesame seeds that stick nicely to the dough. I do the same thing around 20 times to complete one large batch. After all that, I’d go over to the sink to wash the sticky dough off my hands. By the time I get back I see my mom individually putting each ball into the wok, not being afraid of any oil that splatters on her. When the time is right she gently presses them with a spider strainer to make it inflate. By the time it's done, it's gone from the size of a baseball, to the size of a soft ball. It is transferred to a plate lined with paper towels to absorb the dripping oil. I bring it to the dinner table as everyone rushes toward it, only leaving a few left.
         After the long and laborious process, it’s time to eat. I grab a piece and place it on my plate. I take a moment to admire the beautiful sight. Perfectly round, golden and coated with crunchy sesame seeds. After that, I've grown too impatient to spare another second to let it cool down. Instead, I allow it to burn my mouth. As I take a bite I hear a subtle crunch as puffs of steam rush toward my face, revealing the inside while deflating. Every bite takes me back to all my favorite rituals of Chinese New Year. Every year I am reminded that the more you eat Jin Dui the better your fortune will be and wealthier you'll be. I am determined to one day make this dish from start to finish on my own and carry out the tradition through my future family.