Prompt #1: “What are your thoughts on the importance of food and proper, authentic food representation within culture?"
I've heard two chefs say "food tells a story." Those two chefs are Anthony Bourdain and Eddie Huang, both of whom really value authentic food representation because dishes aren't just a mix of ingredients to create something tasty and edible. And although I had to think this claim multiple times, I believe it's true. There are dishes that will always remind us of home, of sick days when we realize just how fortunate we are that the nagging of our parents is also accompanied by a constant care when we are at our weakest and most vulnerable, of when we can never order a dish at a restaurant because it will never be better than how mom or grandma makes it (and sometimes dad too), and of those times when we are the only ones at home and we have to cook for others—so how will we choose to express our care and generosity? And this relates to authenticity because the style of a dish is an accumulation of that, of the resourcefulness of a civilization or society because they were limited to what their local geography could grow. Japanese cuisine that is heavy in carbs is due to to the small island size of Japan and the scarcity (thus high price) of fruits, vegetables, and meat. Korean jiggle (soups) because the same way ice cold beverages are refreshing during scorching summers, boiling hot soups are comforting during the cruel cold of Korean winters. Food wasn’t created in a vacuum. It is a reflection of history and purpose, and to not represent it authentically or accurately is to dismiss or erase a history. We keep each other, our culture, our identity, our history and our heritage alive by making each bowl of soup and each plate of fish “the way mom made it.”
Prompt #2: “Have you ever experienced anything where either your own culture or someone else’s came off as rude? How did you react? How did others react? And most importantly, how do you wish everyone acted or reacted?”
The standard inquisition at Asian family gatherings has become a thought-provoking and hard-to-discern blend of: 1) genuine interest, 2) nosiness, 3) indirect but at times really direct shaming, and 4) potentially Stockholm Syndrome care.
“What school are you going to for college?
What do you want to study?
When are you graduating?
How much money are you making now?
Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend yet?
When are you getting married?
When are you going to have kids?
You’ve gained weight! But eat more.
You’re too skinny!”
During my most recent visit home, almost every elder patted my belly, pronouncing its apparent protrusion through gesture. I felt both slightly embarrassed and ashamed, but also remembered when before I left for Asia I was on a stricter diet and exercise regimen. Rather than kick a lion that has fallen, they were petting a harmless fluff ball that was getting rounder and fluffier.
I share this because I think it’s interesting how there has been an increased interest and emphasis on mental well-being, and a seemingly increasing number of Asians who vent about the pressures of such questions, or rather uncertainties. Is this just not how our culture is? Is it actually objectively harmful? Could it possibly be some sort of twisted tradition where, like the painful kneading of a knot in our muscles during a massage, an open and earnest conversation about what elders have become wise enough to routinely check on in the next generation?
Will you be financially secure in your education and job prospects so that I know you’re okay since you call home less and less frequently now?
Have you met someone who truly loves you yet? Someone who will care for you the way you we did when you couldn’t even walk on your own or lift a spoon to your own mouth?
Will you create your own family, to love someone more than yourself, to live for a purpose greater than just you? To find fulfillment in the larger fabric of society?
Are you eating enough? Are you eating well? Are you sure there are no burgeoning health issues on the horizon?
Like many misunderstandings, it helps to consider context, and to empathize for our own benefit.
Prompt #1: “What are your thoughts on the importance of food and proper, authentic food representation within culture?"
I've heard two chefs say "food tells a story." Those two chefs are Anthony Bourdain and Eddie Huang, both of whom really value authentic food representation because dishes aren't just a mix of ingredients to create something tasty and edible. And although I had to think this claim multiple times, I believe it's true. There are dishes that will always remind us of home, of sick days when we realize just how fortunate we are that the nagging of our parents is also accompanied by a constant care when we are at our weakest and most vulnerable, of when we can never order a dish at a restaurant because it will never be better than how mom or grandma makes it (and sometimes dad too), and of those times when we are the only ones at home and we have to cook for others—so how will we choose to express our care and generosity? And this relates to authenticity because the style of a dish is an accumulation of that, of the resourcefulness of a civilization or society because they were limited to what their local geography could grow. Japanese cuisine that is heavy in carbs is due to to the small island size of Japan and the scarcity (thus high price) of fruits, vegetables, and meat. Korean jiggle (soups) because the same way ice cold beverages are refreshing during scorching summers, boiling hot soups are comforting during the cruel cold of Korean winters. Food wasn’t created in a vacuum. It is a reflection of history and purpose, and to not represent it authentically or accurately is to dismiss or erase a history. We keep each other, our culture, our identity, our history and our heritage alive by making each bowl of soup and each plate of fish “the way mom made it.”
Prompt #2: “Have you ever experienced anything where either your own culture or someone else’s came off as rude? How did you react? How did others react? And most importantly, how do you wish everyone acted or reacted?”
The standard inquisition at Asian family gatherings has become a thought-provoking and hard-to-discern blend of: 1) genuine interest, 2) nosiness, 3) indirect but at times really direct shaming, and 4) potentially Stockholm Syndrome care.
“What school are you going to for college?
What do you want to study?
When are you graduating?
How much money are you making now?
Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend yet?
When are you getting married?
When are you going to have kids?
You’ve gained weight! But eat more.
You’re too skinny!”
During my most recent visit home, almost every elder patted my belly, pronouncing its apparent protrusion through gesture. I felt both slightly embarrassed and ashamed, but also remembered when before I left for Asia I was on a stricter diet and exercise regimen. Rather than kick a lion that has fallen, they were petting a harmless fluff ball that was getting rounder and fluffier.
I share this because I think it’s interesting how there has been an increased interest and emphasis on mental well-being, and a seemingly increasing number of Asians who vent about the pressures of such questions, or rather uncertainties. Is this just not how our culture is? Is it actually objectively harmful? Could it possibly be some sort of twisted tradition where, like the painful kneading of a knot in our muscles during a massage, an open and earnest conversation about what elders have become wise enough to routinely check on in the next generation?
Will you be financially secure in your education and job prospects so that I know you’re okay since you call home less and less frequently now?
Have you met someone who truly loves you yet? Someone who will care for you the way you we did when you couldn’t even walk on your own or lift a spoon to your own mouth?
Will you create your own family, to love someone more than yourself, to live for a purpose greater than just you? To find fulfillment in the larger fabric of society?
Are you eating enough? Are you eating well? Are you sure there are no burgeoning health issues on the horizon?
Like many misunderstandings, it helps to consider context, and to empathize for our own benefit.