Which food, when you eat it, instantly transports you to childhood?

We call it taho.

It’s made of soya beans

and being sold early mornings and late afternoons,

by a man carrying two aluminum buckets on his shoulder.

Perhaps due to my Chinese genes,

I always negotiated for more vanilla,

or boba, or both—

and the manongs (big brothers)

would always yield to my wishes,

simply because

I was a good customer.

I would ask money from my dad,

and whatever amount he gives me,

I split it into two.

And because I have a generous father,

I always buy in large quantities for me and him.

My dad’s portion was less vanilla and regular boba.

And when I bring it to him,

I would say, “‘Tay (Dad), here’s your taho.”

I would add, “‘Tay you owe me, don’t forget.”

And he would always chuckle.