I’m visiting a close friend’s home for Chinese New Year. A Marvel movie is playing on TV—I have lost track of which one, but it’s pre-Thanos—and the kids are climbing over one another from their spots on the living room floor to get the best view. I stuff another pineapple tart into my mouth and turn to my friend, but she has disappeared into the kitchen.
I go looking for her and find a familiar sight. Women of all ages crowd around the kitchen counter. As they chat, they are transferring food from serving plates into storage boxes, taking turns to wash and dry dishes, then putting them back where they belong.
A teenaged girl is instructed by her mother to retrieve a big bowl from inside the fridge, which turns out to be brimming with glistening balls of and sweet milky broth. Her mother starts to
