Nothing is ever static. Most things erode within time until it returns to nothing. However, the feelings associated with past memories last an infinite amount of time. No one ever forgets the feeling of being uplifted by someone else, no one ever forgets the feeling of long hours of trial and error before the inevitable success, no one ever forgets the feeling of being encouraged and trusted and loved.  This dish, which was handed down from my mom’s sister to her, is a physical incarnation of their bond of encouragement, trust, lovingness for one another. While my mom doesn’t talk about this relationship very much to me, I can see it in the actions she takes towards making the sour soup dish: “In the backyard, I grow basil, chili, garlic leaves. I use it for cooking. … It is easy to grow and makes me happy when it grows up.” This simple action of growing ingredients used in her rendition of Salaw Machu Kreung shows how much affection she puts into her cooking, especially the food that brings her, and me, back to her roots. Shortly after she was born,  her mom had died of heart disease and left her in her older sister’s care. Her older sister did most of the housework, cleaning, and cooking after school and other jobs to sustain both of them. Through multiple struggles during their childhood and teenage years, their lives started to shape out for the better. Back in Cambodia, whenever my mom cooked, she always put in all her emotion into her cooking. She would always try new methods of cooking with new ingredients and different recipes. However, whenever a special occasion or event would come up, my mom would always go back to her roots of cooking and always make something closely related to traditions. “There is no specific food, but Samrith Likes Salaw Machu Kreung, I learned from my sister how to make it.” To her, it may seem like just a dish that brings a smile to my face, but, to me, it’s more than just that. I can see the dedication and time and effort she puts into this dish. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have the homestyle taste and feel to it. This dish was created from the numerous hours put into the kitchen and was cultivated as it was passed down from one person to the next. The dish itself is the physical incarnation of the strong bond between my mother and her older sister. This variant of sour soup, as well as all cooking in general, has a story to tell about the culture and community it was founded in and expresses a piece of history specific to that community and culture. Nothing is ever static. However, that doesn’t mean things will always get worse with time. The experience and feelings captured within that moment continue to shine brightly as time trudges on. Yet, that shine will only shine for as long as the story is passed down and more experiences are made. It’s up to the next generation to take a hold of that shine and allow it into their hearts and memories to at least give it a little bit more time to burn bright, much like this soup passed down between two sisters.