My sister Elizabeth grew this marrow, the winter marrow or the Tung Kwa. When I was growing up, I thought just the Cantonese group of Chinese ate them
Mum grew a small one, and stuffed a whole duck before steaming it. She craved patterns on it. We lived next door to the District Officer and they often came for dinner. The whole Tung Kwa was mum's pride and joy.
I didn't quite appreciate it, and may be that is why I didn't marry a Cantonese. I like it better when we cook it sweet and have it as a cooling dessert at 3 pm.
In Singapore, as a professor's wife, I meet other wives from all over the world. I saw a small Tung Kwa in an Indian professor's house. It reminded me of home.
My facebook friend Dr Syn posted a photo of the Tung Kwa soup. We must have good vibes, last night I showed a photo of the above photos to my other friend Ling Liong Ming to console him because his mangoes were stolen.
Father grew Tung Kwa in Kuching in Margaret's house. He waited and waited for the white powder. When it was just ready, some one had harvested it before him. A good story for all of us,
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