My earliest memory in our kitchen was standing on a blue plastic milk crate barely reaching the sink, washing the dishes.

In those days bringing your child to work meant your child would “work.” I studied my mom—mentally taking notes on how she created her recipes without ever officially measuring anything, claiming it was the Vietnamese way of cooking. In her 20s and only 90lbs, her dedication amazed me as she worked nonstop 7 days a week. Controlling the kitchen came naturally to her and I think somehow as the years passed, through osmosis it transferred to me.