Everyone has a similar experience where a certain food takes you back to a childhood memory. Whenever I eat spring onion and ginger crab at a restaurant, it takes me back to frosty Christmas holidays back in England. Crab is our Chinese equivalent to turkey and my mother makes a superb version. My sister and I would be parked in front of the sofa watching James Bond reruns while mother is in the kitchen. Chopping, hissing from the steam, glorious aromas would emanate from the kitchen while we waited for the succulent crab and gooey wine sauce. There is something about home cooking that transcends even the most prestigious restaurants. A master chef could never replicate the warmth and care of my mother’s cooking.