By Mother's Day. I brought Mai chrysanthemums and thit kho, as I do every year, because tradition is the scaffolding that holds the years together. This year I also brought the photo album from the Vietnam trip — the one I'd assembled before the trip, with the blank last page that now has the photo of Mai with Thanh's children in Saigon. She'd seen it before but she held it again and turned the pages slowly and I watched her face as she moved through the photos of our family from 1975 to now. Forty-nine years in thirty pages.
Linh came with a bracelet again (gold this time, which Mai protested was too extravagant and then wore immediately). The three of us sat at Mai's table and she told us something she'd been holding: she wants to video-call Huong with all of us present before Huong arrives. She wants Huong to see the family — Linh, me, the grandchildren, Ava — before she gets on the plane. "So she knows who is waiting for her," Mai said. "So she is not afraid." The logic was pure Mai: manage the fear by showing the love. Remove the uncertainty by demonstrating the welcome. Make the unknown known.
We scheduled the call for next Sunday. I volunteered to handle the technology (which means Emma will handle the technology and I will stand behind her and say "Is it working?" every thirty seconds). The whole family will gather at Mai's house. Tyler and Jessica will be on a separate screen from Midland. Huong will be on her phone in Da Nang. Three cities, three screens, one family. The future is ridiculous and beautiful.
Made Mai's exact recipe for chè đậu đỏ — sweet red bean soup — because it's her favorite dessert and it's Mother's Day and the woman deserves her favorite dessert without having to make it herself for once. Red azuki beans, cooked with sugar and coconut milk until thick and sweet, served warm with tapioca pearls. She tasted it. She said, "More coconut milk." I added more. She tasted again. "Better." My desserts remain co-authored. I am fine with this.
There was no version of Mother’s Day where I wasn’t going to make something warm and sweet for Mai — something she could hold in both hands and taste slowly, the way she held that photo album. Since the chè đậu đỏ is hers in every way that matters, I’ve written down the closest I can get on my own: a rich, gentle hot chocolate, the kind of thing you make when you want someone to feel tended to. It won’t be exactly right until she tells me what to fix. That’s the whole point.
Hot Chocolate
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 2
Ingredients
- 2 cups whole milk
- 1/2 cup full-fat coconut milk
- 3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar, or to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 pinch fine sea salt
- Whipped cream or marshmallows, for serving (optional)
Instructions
- Warm the milk. In a small saucepan over medium-low heat, combine the whole milk and coconut milk. Heat gently, stirring occasionally, until steaming — do not boil.
- Whisk in cocoa and sugar. Add the cocoa powder and sugar to the warm milk. Whisk continuously until both are fully dissolved and the mixture is smooth, about 3 minutes.
- Season and finish. Stir in the vanilla extract and a pinch of salt. Taste and adjust sugar as needed. (This is the step where someone who knows better than you will tell you to add more coconut milk. Add more coconut milk.)
- Serve warm. Ladle into mugs. Top with whipped cream or marshmallows if desired. Serve immediately while hot.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 220 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 115mg