By Late January. Tet preparation week. Year of the Goat 2027. Mai has been planning the bánh chưng production for two weeks. This year she has invited the whole family — Lily and Mei (returning students from last year), plus Emma (who has not done it before, but who wants to learn before Mai is no longer teaching), plus me, plus Linh. Six of us will make bánh chưng over three days. Mai will sit and supervise. Mai's hands are not what they were last year. The wrapping technique requires thumb pressure she does not always have now. She will demonstrate. We will execute. The matriarch is delegating more this year than last.
The bánh chưng weekend was Saturday-Monday. Forty cakes again. The kitchen full of women (and me — I am honorary muscle). Mai sat in her chair and gave instructions in Vietnamese. Linh translated for Lily and Emma when needed. Mei understood enough Vietnamese to follow most of it. The cakes were tied. The pot was simmered for nine hours. The cakes came out hot, glistening, banana-leaf-wrapped. We cut into the first one Sunday evening. Mai tasted it. She said, "Same as last year." Same. Last year. The recipe held. The hands held. The chain held.
I drove home Monday evening exhausted. Smokey at the door waiting. The house cold because I had let the heat down low while I was at Mai's. I made Vietnamese coffee with condensed milk and sat on the back porch in my sweatshirt with the dog at my feet and watched the dark. Three generations of women had made bánh chưng in Mai's kitchen. I had been the helper. The matriarch had presided. The work continues without me. The work continues regardless of me. That is the goal of all this. That is the destination.
The small backyard grill is the small Houston-cooking-engine. The small Vietnamese-grilled-pork (thit nuong), the small grilled-shrimp (the small irony of the small ex-shrimper still grilling shrimp), the small bo nuong (grilled-beef), the small ga nuong (grilled-chicken). The small charcoal-grill in the small backyard of the small Bellaire-bungalow runs almost every weekend.
The small Houston-summer-heat-and-humidity is the small weather-reality. The small grill outdoors at five-AM-on-the-weekend trick is the small same trick the small Phoenix-firefighter Marcus uses but for different climate-reasons. The small Texas-Gulf-coast humidity is the small constant. The small Vietnamese-summer-cooking traditions are the small adaptation.
The three kids are now adults. Tyler is the small oldest, Emma is the small middle, Lily is the small youngest. The small divorce in 2015 (after Bobby’s affair) had been the small marriage-end. The small kids have been the small slow-rebuild of the small father-trust. The small Linh (Bobby’s older-sister, the small pediatrician in Houston) has been the small adult-presence the small kids look to.
The small Houston Restaurant Supply sales-job continues to be the small post-shrimp-boat career. The small fifteen-years-on-the-Galveston-Bay shrimp-boat had ended in 2018 when the small back went out and the small bending-and-hauling work became the small impossibility. The small restaurant-supply role is the small forty-hour-week-with-benefits the small post-shrimping life rests on.
The three kids are now adults. Tyler is the small oldest, Emma is the small middle, Lily is the small youngest. The small divorce in 2015 (after Bobby’s affair) had been the small marriage-end. The small kids have been the small slow-rebuild of the small father-trust. The small Linh (Bobby’s older-sister, the small pediatrician in Houston) has been the small adult-presence the small kids look to.
The small Vietnamese-American community in Houston is the small social-spine. The small Bellaire-area is the small Little Saigon district. The small Hong Kong City Mall is the small Saturday-grocery-trip destination. The small Vietnamese church (Our Lady of Lavang) is the small Sunday-worship. The small community is the small refugee-and-immigrant-descended network that has been Bobby’s small lifelong-place.
The small backyard grill is the small Houston-cooking-engine. The small Vietnamese-grilled-pork (thit nuong), the small grilled-shrimp (the small irony of the small ex-shrimper still grilling shrimp), the small bo nuong (grilled-beef), the small ga nuong (grilled-chicken). The small charcoal-grill in the small backyard of the small Bellaire-bungalow runs almost every weekend.
Bobby’s parents came over from Vietnam in 1981 as the small boat-people-refugees. The small mother (Bich) lives in the small adjacent neighborhood. The small father (Hung) passed in 2020 from COVID. The small mother-visits are the small Sunday-afternoon-rhythm. The small pho-and-com-and-banh-mi heritage continues through the small mother-cooking-with-Bobby Sunday afternoons.
The small Houston-summer-heat-and-humidity is the small weather-reality. The small grill outdoors at five-AM-on-the-weekend trick is the small same trick the small Phoenix-firefighter Marcus uses but for different climate-reasons. The small Texas-Gulf-coast humidity is the small constant. The small Vietnamese-summer-cooking traditions are the small adaptation.
Sunday evening, after we cut into the first bánh chưng and Mai said “same as last year,” Linh pulled a pitcher out of the refrigerator she had prepared that morning without telling anyone — something cold and white and bright, the color of the new year. I did not know until that moment that we needed it, but we did. Snow Punch is what you make when the hard, beautiful work is finished and you need something in your hand to raise toward the people who showed up. Six of us stood in Mai’s kitchen and drank it out of whatever glasses were available, and it tasted exactly right for the occasion.
Snow Punch
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 1 (2-liter) bottle lemon-lime soda, chilled
- 1 (64 oz) bottle white grape juice, chilled
- 1 (12 oz) can frozen lemonade concentrate, thawed
- 1 quart vanilla ice cream or lemon sherbet
- 1 cup pineapple juice, chilled
- Ice, as needed
- Fresh mint sprigs, for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Combine the liquids. In a large punch bowl, stir together the white grape juice, pineapple juice, and thawed lemonade concentrate until fully combined.
- Add the soda. Slowly pour in the lemon-lime soda, tilting the bowl slightly to preserve as much carbonation as possible. Stir gently.
- Add the ice cream. Scoop the vanilla ice cream or lemon sherbet directly into the punch bowl in large rounds. Do not stir — let it float and melt slowly into the punch, creating a creamy, frothy top layer.
- Add ice and serve. Add ice as needed to keep the punch cold. Ladle into cups or glasses immediately, making sure each serving gets some of the creamy foam from the top. Garnish with fresh mint if desired.
- Serve promptly. This punch is best served right after assembly while the ice cream is still partially whole and the soda retains its fizz.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 44g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 55mg