After a second dim sum in two days (scratch what I said yesterday), the repeated, welcome assault of fried, porky, shrimpy foods reminded me of a restaurant that my family and I used to go to multiple times whenever I visited my grandparents in Toronto. It was (is?) called “New World,” though we would refer to it as “Old World” given the frequency of our trips (I see it’s called Crown Prince Now! Hmm … I wish I hadn’t checked). Anyways, those 10-hour car rides through upstate NY and across the US-Canada border were such a fundamental part of my childhood, and one of the things I look back on most happily. At the end of the trip, there was guaranteed to be a family gathering with all its drama and love. Even though we’re scattered around these days, I still feel so lucky to have the support of those same people.