Mama Chang's Lemon Sauce

  She trundles out of the kitchen and slaps her wooden spoon on the table yelling at me for obviously using the wrong sauce with the wrong rice. Though I don’t understand a word, the tone makes me think it. But the lemon sauce that’s served with the steamed fish is so good, that I’m ladling it with abandon on my fried rice. The other dish on the table is a red curry with chicken, while good, can’t even compete with that lemon sauce. I’m craving it even now. 

  Back to Mama Chang. She’s a tiny little thing with a slight stoop to her tiny frame. Gray streaks in her hair, set in a bun atop her head. A face that shows a lifetime of hard work and heart ache. Her smile, though rare, cracks the face in every which way and lightens your soul, much like her lemon sauce!

  After haranguing me about the food, back she goes to the kitchen. Moments later, out comes a new bowl of rice and a smaller bowl of the lemon sauce for me to savor. 

  Ah, Mama Chang, you do care!