Today, I learnt to steam a whole fish. 

It all started with me wandering around the Asian market. Whole tilapia was on sale, so I pointed at one and blankly nodded my head so the fish monger helped to clean and gut the fish. 

I barely understand Cantonese. But yet, cooking a whole fish is so normal for me as a person of Chinese ethnicity. 

I put the now nicely bagged fish in my bag and bike home. 

At home, I rinse the fish again, and then season it with soy sauce. I cut a few pieces of ginger and place it on top. The fish then goes into a wok already prepped with a rack and boiling water on high heat. I fry up some minced garlic as a topping. Within 15 minutes, the fish was done. 

Its funny how easy the process is, just as my parents said. But… 

As I plate up my fish in stony silence, I start to realize how this has always been a dish meant as a communal affair. While I had a great time enjoying the choice parts of the fish, no one is there to compete with me for it. No one even tells me to start eating.  No one reminds me that the fish stomach can sometimes be bitter, or that I need to be careful with the bones around that area. It is particularly jarring for me when I find I can choose to not eat the fish eyes and not be chided that that is the best part of the fish. 

Clearly, a huge fish is too much for one meal, so I eat my fill and then pack the rest for later. It feels weird, deboning the fish for no one in particular. And even weirder that I was packing it in the first place. The fish was just right for a family of 4 people. 

Today, I learnt to steam a whole fish. I also learnt how eating a whole fish is a family affair. Whole fish is still more value for money than fillets though, so I might just continue to buy it.