Marsha Takeda-Morrison

Marsha Takeda-Morrison is a former art director turned writer living in Los Angeles with her husband and two daughters. In addition to writing about parenting for mom.me, she chronicles her family’s life on her personal blog, Sweatpantsmom. She frequently covers pop culture and has interviewed the likes of Paris Hilton, Jessica Alba, Kim Kardashian, and Mila Kunis. While she spends a lot of time in Hollywood she has never had plastic surgery, given birth to an actor’s child, or been on a reality show. Yet.

Updated October 2017

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Crónicas Nikkei #11—¡Itadakimasu 3! Comida, Familia y Comunidad Nikkei

Leftovers

“Nokorimono,” my mom said disdainfully. Leftovers. She was emphasizing the rule in our house as she often did, that yesterday’s food was perfectly fine for family, but not good enough to be served to guests.  I was in middle school, and had just told her that a classmate would be coming over to work on a project. I had mistakenly asked if we could finish off the croquettes she’d made for dinner the night before. She bristled at the audacity of it, and set about frying up a couple of T-bones and sautéeing some potatoes. By her reaction you would have thou...

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Crónicas Nikkei #6—¡Itadakimasu 2! Otros sabores de la cultura nikkei

Natto: A Love Story

I love natto. But it wasn’t always that way. My mom gave me my first taste when I was around seven or eight years old and it didn’t go well. I gagged and begged her for a cup of water to wash the bitter taste out of my mouth. “It’s good for you,” she said, but I swore right then that not a single, slimy, smelly bean would ever touch my lips again. Growing up, I put it on the same list with things like tamago gohan and tazukuri—weird foods that my parents and grandparents ate that I wouldn’t touch. When you’re a kid, there’s nothing mo...

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Crónicas Nikkei #4—La Familia Nikkei: Memorias, Tradiciones, y Valores

The Weight On My Shoulders

I don’t remember exactly how old I was when this happened—maybe nine or ten—but I distinctly remember what the hotel room looked and smelled like. The bedspreads were ugly and itchy. There was a musty smell to everything, and we figured it was because the housekeepers never really cleaned, just moved the vacuum a few times over the carpet and called it a day. I refused to drink out of any of the glasses because I swore I saw a distinct lip print on the edge of one of the ones wrapped in the crinkly white paper that said, “Sanitized For Your Safety.” When it ca...

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Crónicas Nikkei #1 — ¡ITADAKIMASU! Sabores de La Cultura Nikkei

Spam: It’s What’s For Dinner. No, Really.

Today I’m going to talk about Spam. I’m not talking about the kind in your online mailbox, I’m talking about the canned meat.Hey, where’d everybody go? Now that everyone, save for a few adventurous souls and the Asians, have left the room let me tell you about one of my favorite family traditions, Spam musubi, (pronounced moo-soo-bee), a kind of sushi concoction made out of Spam, rice, and seaweed. Hey look—now only the Asians are still here. Sure, being Japanese-American, everyone expects that my family tradition would be along the lines of a complex fish...

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Warning: Japanese lady say not-so-nice things about racists!

I was in my early twenties, at a dinner party. The host, a friend of mine, used the “N-word” in a conversation and after a couple of nervous giggles, everyone went on eating their pasta puttanesca like nothing had happened. I tried to, but couldn’t and I made a feeble attempt at approaching the subject, saying something like, “About that word—it was offensive but you know that, right?” my voice shaking the entire time. I remember there were no nervous giggles after that, only a dead silence that seemed to go on forever until my friend simply responded, &l...

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