We all have meals that stick out in our mind. Food that represents so much more than sustenance, so much more than fuel. There are dishes that represent your culture, your past, your identity.

This is one of those meals. My brilliant home chef-mom makes her own longanisa, a flavor-packed Filipino breakfast sausage that few are able to savor as homemade. There’s something about the garlicky goodness with sweet, vinaigery, perppery notes that will always send me back to my home.

For my mom, for my entire family, food is an expression of love. It is a way to celebrate, console, and unify. It’s a way to show gratitude and grit. Because although we grow both up and sometimes, apart, food brings us together.

The care and time my mom takes to create this Portuguese-derived deliciousness astounds me. I remember at a very young age understanding how sausages were made. It gave me a respect for ALL parts of an animal.

When I was away for college, longanisa breakfast was the meal I missed most. I longed for the painstaking butchery my mother did to ensure it wasn’t fatty, the patient cooking to release the caramelized goodness, the breath and burps that would stay with me for the rest of the day— reminding me of the taste of home.

She would always present it with pride, and no wonder why. All of her children love it. I know her Isaac loves it. And when I think of it, it makes me smile.