The Scent That Led Me Back to the Fishpond
The Scent That Led Me Back to the Fishpond This morning, I harvested a couple of tender tips from my green Malabar spinach. I did not need scissors. I held a stem between my thumb and finger and pinched. It yielded easily—a quiet little snap that told me the shoot was young enough for the kitchen. Then came the smell. It was green, earthy and strangely familiar. For a moment, I was no longer standing beside my balcony garden in Singapore. That scent had opened a door, and through it I found myself back in Pangasinan, beside the fishponds of my childhood. I remembered a plant we called balangbang . The vegetable beside the water Balangbang grew along the sides of fishponds, close enough for some of its leaves to touch the water. It was not planted in neat rows. Nobody had to prepare a garden bed for it, buy a packet of seeds or draw up a feeding schedule. It simply grew where land and water met. Its young green growth could be gathered and brought home. The tender portions were made int...