I’m an immigrant from Tokyo, Japan. I was 5 years old and my sister was 3 when my mom brought us to Hawaii. She wanted us to have an American education and took a leap of faith destined for the land of opportunity, America. We initially lived in my Chinese-Hawaiian grandparents’ house.

It’s difficult for me to fathom what it was like for her to leave her place of birth not speaking much English and not knowing a single person. Borrowing a culinary term, she “started from scratch.”

This story is my inheritance. It informs my identity and how I look at life. The food from her homeland that she prepared is also part of my identity. Like most immigrants, it was her way to find comfort in a strange and distant land. And she cooked simple but good Japanese food. We were fortunate that Hawaii had a strong Japanese community stemming from the sugar plantation era. Finding work at Japanese restaurants helped her to adapt to a new life.

Hawaii is one of the most ethnically diverse states in the country. Our melting pot society has been simmering for so long that we just don’t blur the lines, we blend. According to the Pew Research Center, we have the highest percentage of mixed race individuals in the country — 24 percent compared with 6.9 percent of all Americans. I am part of that mix and there was no better place for my mom to have settled and laid down roots.

Food is fundamental to our culture. When we cook and share our ancestral food and the stories behind them, we are sharing part of our heritage and culture. Sometimes when you get invited to a gathering and you eat someone else’s food, it starts a conversation and a relationship. You begin talking to someone, and you begin to accept each other. And once we accept, we learn to appreciate. That is the binding ingredient of our melting pot community.

I’d like to encourage young people considering a career in culinary and home cooks alike to explore the foods of your heritage. A lot of people eat outside of their homes today, taking them away from the family dinner table. When you eat less of your mother’s cooking, you begin to lose that flavor and that part of your history.

You can be creative and make family recipes your own but hold on to the traditional way. And when you’ve learned these dishes, share them. Traditional dishes can go back centuries and they are a bridge to our ancestral land. Food can enrich your sense of identity. I constantly ask my mom how she makes certain things. I love to watch her cook at home. I’ve asked her for recipes, but it’s really difficult because she doesn’t cook by recipe. She cooks by feel.

My mom is a courageous woman whose wish was to give my sister and me the opportunities Hawaii had to offer. Our story is part of the greater Hawaii story, where families come from every corner of the world. We see it in the food at our potluck gatherings and in a mix-plate lunch. In 1825, French gourmet Jean Brillat-Savarin said, “tell me what you eat, and I’ll tell you who you are.”

Hawaii is a microcosm of what a global community could look like. Let’s all be thankful that we live in a place where different cultures meld and share aloha. Let’s celebrate our diversity and share the food of our ancestors at your Thanksgiving potluck.

I’ll be cooking Japanese food for my mom this Thanksgiving Day … from scratch.

Alan Wong is a chef and owner of Alan Wong’s Restaurants.