Writer Su-Jit Lin resented the Chinese birthday cakes of her childhood.
But it turns out they were a celebration of culture and family.
Thered be canned peaches, glistening in clingy syrup.
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Its unsweetened whipped cream paled against the richness of buttercream.
I hated those Chinese birthday cakes.
For much of my early childhood, my mom and dad proudly celebrated our birthdays with those cakes.
Every time I opened up the plain white cake box, I was disappointed.
I loved the emerald green leaves and vines and the curlicue Happy Birthday written in narrow cursive.
Its your birthday, but the cake is for everybody.
What she meant was that Americanized birthday cakes were intolerably sweet for most older and recently immigrated family members.
But she’d ordered whipped cream instead of buttercream icing.
It was exactly what I wanted back then.
But now, I wish I could have the stupid cakes I used to hate.
I live in western Atlanta where the closest Chinese bakery is 40 minutes away and mediocre in comparison.
Iwantthe clean taste of whipped cream on ripe fruit.
Iwantthe firmer structure of the sponge cake.
How it was more about our family gathering and my parents catering to crowd satisfaction.
How they were preserving our cultural tastes and cycling back money into our own community.
Now as an adult, it doesn’t bother me that Chinese birthday cakes aren’t very sweet.
It’s enough that my memories are.
