Miso: A Bowl of Soup for Generations
One spoonful and I think about her smile. Another taste and I think about her laugh. The more miso soup I consume, the more I’m reminded of her warmth. The more I see her small frame, all five-foot-two inches of her, working hard to serve her family a meal we know we’ll love. You see nobody could cook better than my grandma.
I’m talking about a woman born and raised in Nagasaki, Japan, a woman who eventually moved to the U.S. to help my mother raise me. A woman who brought with her a Japanese culture that has shaped who I am today. The language, the history and let’s not forget about the food. Even now, six years after she passed away, she remains with me. I see her in the pictures that line our walls. I’m reminded of her when I hear my mother and uncle switch from English to Japanese mid-conversation. My brother has her eyes.
My grandma was amazing in the kitchen. I will always remember the contentment I felt sitting down to a warm meal crafted by the hands of a woman with decades of experience. The dishes she prepared were far superior to any hamburger or hotdog I could buy.
Now that I can no longer enjoy my grandma’s cooking, my mother is doing all that she can to keep her traditions and recipes alive. She’ll stand at the stove as she says,
“Hannah, making miso soup always reminds me of your grandma. Grandma always prepared miso soup for breakfast.”
But no matter how many times she’s cooked this dish, she’ll also say,
“I wish I could make it as well as my mom could.”
There was something about my grandma’s soup that cannot be duplicated, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try. I believe it’s not just the ingredients that make the soup taste good. It’s not about how much bean paste you use or how much tofu you add to it. What makes it delicious is the conversation it creates and the memories it brings. The moments I shared with my grandma come flooding back to me and I can reminisce about those moments with the people who were lucky enough to know her.
As for my personal attempt to make my favorite soup, I’m doing what I can to make my grandma proud. Miso soup is rarely a main course, unless it’s for breakfast. It’s more a side dish. Whenever my mom chooses to cook a Japanese meal, she puts me in charge of making the soup. Instead of measuring out the amount of water to add and the amount of bean paste, I choose to estimate. I never saw my grandma measure all of her ingredients, so naturally I want to follow in her footsteps. To add more flavors, I throw in small blocks of tofu, a handful of Wakame (dried seaweed) and a sprinkle of Hondashi (soup stock). Once I let this combination boil for a few minutes, it’s ready to serve. Honestly, it’s as simple as that.
This delicious soup not only plays a part in my family’s history, but it has a pretty impressive history of its own. Miso dates back to the 8th century, during the Heian Period. At the time it was only enjoyed by people of a certain status, like monks and noblemen. But by the 12th century, miso started being used to make soup and it quickly became a staple in the homes of commoners as well. Starting from the 17th century, miso was being utilized in many ways as people tried to come up with new recipes that could please those of different classes. Nowadays, miso has grown exponentially. Families are starting to incorporate it into their meals at home, instead of just enjoying it at a Japanese restaurant.
I’m thankful for my grandma who taught me everything I know about the Japanese culture. It’s such an important part of me. I love the history, I love the language and I love the food. So anytime my mom asks me to make miso soup, I’ll say sure…because it’s my favorite.
