Many of our family traditions centered around food. We'd gather in the kitchen for every birthday and holiday and enjoy delicious food. My grandparents always held Christmas dinner, which included chicken cacciatore, sausage, meatballs and salad. But right before we sat down to eat, my grandmother would pull me aside to show me the dish she made just for me: fresh pasta (意大利面) with tomato sauce.

It was a simple dish, but to me it was warm food that filled me with happiness. But more than that, it made me feel like I belonged. I was a shy kid and, in many situations, I felt ignored. And here was my grandmother, showing me that I mattered.

Years went by; I moved away and got married. I'd visit throughout the years and my grandmother would serve up a plate of pasta.

When my daughter was born in 2020, for the first time in my life I wasn't about to make the trip back home for Christmas. I cooked my family's traditional foods and my husband and I had a big meal that included, of course, fresh pasta. I had a video call with my grandmother and showed her the pasta. Shortly after the holidays she passed away unexpectedly.

It seemed so unfair that my grandmother passed away soon after I became a parent. I'd hold my daughter and think about how I could tell her what an amazing great-grandmother she had.

In my sadness I came to an answer: food. Late at night after my daughter had gone to bed, I'd go to the kitchen and learn how to make fresh pasta, cooking my grandmother's recipes. Before long I started experimenting, making a bit changes to classic recipes. When my daughter got a little older, I began making special dishes for her with my grandmother's flavors in mind.

I know that no matter how hard I try, my daughter will never have a bowl pasta with sauce exactly like the ones my grandmother would make for me. While that makes me sad, she'll still get to have my pasta sauce. I know there're two things she'll never lack for in this life: pasta and love.