Chewing on Home: Boba, Authenticity, and Identity

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FEATURE PHOTOS PROVIDED BY AUTHOR In 2019, Domino’s rolled out a limited-edition pizza in Taiwan topped with sweet tapioca balls and honey, drawing mixed reactions. While some adventurous foodies vowed to try it, others expressed complete and utter disgust. I fell more in the latter camp. How could Domino’s take a sweet and integral part of my childhood and sprinkle it on a cheese pizza? I rolled my eyes at what seemed to me a publicity stunt by an American corporation. But upon further…

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Ashley Chuyun Cheng: A-ma, I Hope You Can Hear Me Over Zoom

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I don’t usually remember my dreams, but the night before my grandmother passes, I have one that I remember with unparalleled clarity. In it, I’m pushing a shopping cart around at the Carrefour in Pingtung, Taiwan, arguably one of the great retail loves of my life. (For those unfamiliar with Carrefour, it’s essentially Costco but better, as hard as that is to believe. You can get all sorts of groceries and appliances and there’s a whole floor of restaurants and crane games, so it makes…

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A Rose By Any Other

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My Chinese name is 陳克聞. Seven strokes for the first character of my given name, fourteen for the second, because the fortuneteller told my grandmother that this mathematics of words was auspicious. I write my name with one stroke fewer than the prescribed number, so perhaps all my misfortunes are a result of bad penmanship. No one uses 陳克聞. At home, I am 哥哥, “older brother,” except when my mother, in exasperation, calls out all three syllables of my name for dramatic effect.…

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