By sophomore year, we had grown tired of dorm cooking. Unlike back home, my Stanford friends came from all different backgrounds and cultures. One had the brilliant idea to suggest a potluck in the basement of Roble Hall.
Half a dozen of us piled into my 1984 Toyota and drove to Safeway to purchase ingredients. This was the first time many of us had attempted a favorite recipe without Mom’s help. During the next few hours in the tiny kitchenette, we stepped on each other’s toes while banging pots and pans. Yet the entire kitchen was filled with laughter, instruction, stories of grandmother’s traditions, and good old-fashioned fun. The air filled with delectable aromas, so much so that students from upstairs came down to ask what we were making.
Finally, we brought our creations into the lounge and dove in. We had Mexican posole; Virgin Islands jerk chicken; Southern collard greens, real macaroni and cheese and fried chicken; and my Japanese contribution of inari and California rolls. It was my first taste of some of these, and that night highlighted one of the best gifts of my multicultural education at Stanford. I am so grateful to have met such dear friends—and great cooks!
Isabel Stenzel Byrnes, ’94, is a social worker with Sutter Hospice and an author and speaker who advocates for organ donation.
