FAMILY STYLE

A Vietnamese refugee looks back at his food memories in this graphic memoir.

Pham’s first memory was when he was 5, fleeing a war-torn Vietnam with his family. Pirates brandishing guns and knives attacked the small boat they were using to escape. His mom held onto him through gut-wrenching, violent scenes punctuated by solid black pages containing only her words of comfort: “I’m right here.” When the pirates were gone, he ate a rice ball his dad saved for him. At 41, Pham can still taste “the saltiness of the fish…the sweetness of the rice.” He details pivotal moments in his life through food—each chapter is devoted to a particular meal. His mom made and sold bánh cuốn at the Songkhla refugee camp in Thailand, where they awaited relocation. Russ, the White man who helped the Pham family when they arrived in the United States, made steak and potatoes for their first American dinner. Moving between harrowing and hopeful moments, his family’s experiences in their new country are powerfully juxtaposed. The narrative cohesion is weakened by time jumps in the final chapters, culminating in Pham’s path to citizenship as an adult, but the depiction of food as a love language holds together throughout. The blocky, geometric artwork is skillfully executed in rich, earthy, muted shades with strong black lines, lending the work a nostalgic feeling.

An American story to savor.