Essay Assignment #3 Required length: 5-7 pages not including the Works Cited This assignment requires students to use the ideas from our readings to develop a research project on the contributions of certain ethnic restaurants and/or ethnic markets in America. Your purpose in Assignment #3, like that in Assignment #2, is to devise your own argument about your chosen subject and to support your argument, using various sources. The main difference, however, is that Assignment #3 requires you to identify a specific topic on your own and to do more extensive research in developing your arguments than was required in Assignment #2: you must include direct citations from at least one course reading and at least five (5) sources from the library databases. In your essay, you should formulate a clear and focused thesis and provide a detailed account of your evidence. As with Assignment #2, you are required to submit a one-page research proposal describing your research project. Once again, your research proposal must include a working thesis, your major points, and a brief description of three sources you plan to use in your paper. The due date for the research proposal is on the class schedule. As mentioned earlier, this assignment is to be driven largely by your own research and thinking. You should be doing research as you write, not after you’ve completed a first draft. As Assignment #2 demonstrated, research and writing are thoroughly connected. Your research process will involve you reading, thinking, taking notes, and perusing the databases and other sources until you have figured out what you want to write. Then, as you continue writing, you should go back into the research process again to get new ideas or to find additional sources. Sometimes your argument shifts or changes as you find new sources, and this is a good sign that you are doing research-based writing correctly. Don’t be afraid to change direction in writing the first draft—you can always improve or clarify your draft in your revision process. We will spend a fair amount of time in class identifying interesting topics, developing research questions, and crafting solid arguments. Remember that, in a short paper like this, you cannot write something meaningful about the contributions of all ethnic restaurants and markets in the country, nor can you write about every contribution that certain ethnic restaurants or ethnic markets have made in America. However, you can make a significant argument about a few major contributions of certain ethnic restaurants or markets, and that should be your goal. Topics: 1. As part of ethnic culture themselves, ethnic restaurants and food have made various cultural contributions in American society. In “‘I'll Take Chop Suey’: Restaurants as Agents of Culinary and Cultural Change,” Samantha Barbas illustrates, particularly using Chinese restaurants and food, that historically ethnic restaurants have played a major role in cultural and culinary crossing. She notes that although Chinese restaurants did little to eradicate racism, they made it possible for Americans to cross cultural and culinary boundaries (682-683). In their article “Putting Mexican Cuisine on the Table: The Cultural Dimension of Cuisine as Connecting 1 Point,” Patricia Jimenez Kwast and Ji Hae Kim argue that although to some people ethnic restaurants may be nothing more than a place to serve food, potentially they can play a role as “facilitators of cross-cultural understanding and interaction.” Using certain ethnic restaurants and food, develop an argument about their roles as cultural ambassadors in American society. How do the particular ethnic restaurants and food enable cultural and culinary crossings? How do they bridge cultural gaps between the ethnic group and Americans? Do they promote a better understanding of the ethnic group and reduce American prejudice against them? Do they help Americans construct positive images about the ethnic group? Do they help the ethnic group and Americans negotiate and reshape their cultural identities? These are some of the questions you can consider while you are exploring your topic. 2. Originally aiming to serve the ethnic population, ethnic restaurants, food markets, and other institutions (e.g., Chinatown Development Corporation) have played important roles in the ethnic enclave. Among other functions, they have played the role of providing economic and cultural support to the ethnic community as well as a haven to new immigrants. In the article “Carving an official Cambodia Town out of South Philadelphia,” Joy Manning writes about this economic and cultural role of ethnic restaurants and food in a recent attempt of Cambodians living in Philadelphia to create an “official Cambodia town.” Once this project is over, the enclave will attract more Cambodian Americans from other cities for home food comforts and other visitors for the consumption and experience of the “vibrant Cambodian culture,” which will bring more revenues to the community (Manning). Choose an ethnic community (e.g., Little Italy (Italian market), Little Saigon, Chinatown, Mexicantown, Koreatown, or Cambodia town), and develop an argument about the contributions that ethnic restaurants and food markets have made to the ethnic community. In what ways have the ethnic restaurants and markets made the life of the ethnic population better? How have they contributed to the economy of the ethnic community? How do they help the community to recreate their distinct culture? These are some of the questions you can consider while you are exploring your topic. Research your chosen ethnic community and learn as much as you can about your topic. In addition, if you want to, you can visit an ethnic neighborhood and interview some people there about their perceptions and views about the importance of the ethnic restaurants and markets in the community. 3. Ethnic food markets can offer Americans in cities such as Philadelphia many benefits such as access to less expensive, healthier food with fewer additives, as well as intercultural interactions and authentic experiences. In the article “Why Should You Shop at Ethnic Grocery Stores,” Stefan Zajic makes the argument that more Americans should venture into ethnic neighborhoods to experience such markets despite fears they may have of visiting unknown neighborhoods. 2 Choose a type of an ethnic market that serves a particular ethnic community (such as Middle Eastern, Indian, Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese) and develop an argument about its role in the broader society beyond its local community. Should outsiders to communities where ethnic markets are located be encouraged to go to the markets and overcome fears of entering unknown neighborhoods and perceived linguistic or racial barriers? What would make their adventure worth stepping out of their comfort zone? You may use your own observations and interviews to support your claims. For example, you could interview market clerks and ask how many outsiders tend to visit this market and whether their needs/goals for coming to the market seem to differ from locals. You could also interview other Temple students and see if they claim to ever go to ethnic markets that are not in their own communities and their reasons for going or not going. 3 HSU WEI-CHI, HSU Vicky Professor Gerry Malck ENG 0812 Section 001 15 October 2021 Food Around the World Today, the world is a global village. A great amount of people travels from country to country in order to have the local cuisine or to sightseeing. This influences the culture and the way how people eat as where they’re from. The immigrants are trying to recreate the traditional food from their home country to where they are living now. However, the truth is that, what they are creating is not necessarily authentic. This lack of authenticity can be found in some of the food served in most restaurants. Fast food is also one of the most embraced foods in the world today. Food that is made in these host countries is somehow different compared to foods with the original. These changes can be divided into two reasons, the cost of the ingredients and the preferences of the consumers. The authenticity of the foods made in host countries is based on the barriers of acquiring the same benefits associated with the original ethnic country. Sociologists Shun Lu and Gary Alan Fine argue that “ethnic food can only be accepted by adapting it into the cultural matrix and by creating a set of culinary experiences” (Lu and Fine 540). It is important to understand that, in a society many consumers are desire to have a unique and comfortable experience when it comes to their cultural preferences. As a result, when they walk in these restaurants, they expect to fulfill their cultural home-sickness through food. However, what they are often met with is not authentic enough to suit their needs. Most of the foods provided by these restaurants are watered-down versions of their original delicacies. Most HSU people in overseas countries prefer to have food from their home countries to get the authenticity and originality connected with home. As for American culture, inexpensive food was a common consumer expectation. Despite the rising food costs, Chinese restaurants retained the affordability aspect and offered to provide explanations to consumers on why the food costs were rising. According to Yong Chen, “Chinese restaurateurs felt obliged to issue public explanation when the food prices increased.” (129) Besides this, these Chinese restaurants met the needs of most Americans as they stayed open for long hours and provided a good environment where people could relax after a hard day at work. In essence, these restaurants set the standards for most American restaurants. However, the Chinese did not enjoy these foods as much as they enjoyed food from their home country. This explains why many non-Chinese visit the Chinese restaurant more frequently compared to the Chinese themselves. According to Sunseri, the author of Meat Economies Of The Chinese-American West, as equal representation of meat, both low quality and high-cost cuts for pork and beef, indicates that households in the Chinese community did not necessarily select cuts narrowly based on the concept of affordability. In as much as the economic status and the buying power of these households influenced their food choices, the meat cuts chosen were highly dependent on the availability and the difficulty when purchasing meat cuts from different kinds of animals. These things can also be found in Chinese cuisine in the American or other culture. The authenticity of these foods is highly dependent on the availability of the ingredients used to make these foods, similar to meat cuts in historical times. The more challenging to get an ingredient, the easier for the Chinese cooks to give up on using these ingredients. Instead, they would like to choose those ingredients that offer less quality and experience. However, this is challenging for the American HSU to detect as they have no history or knowledge of the ingredients used to make these foods. As a result, Chinese cuisines are still selling in these communities despite the lack of authenticity. It is impossible for ethnic food to completely lose its authenticity in the adaptation process. However, it is possible that the food can be adapted to the current trends and changes, influencing the significant difference from its traditional form. However, the basics of preparing these foods still remain. According to Yong Chen, most of the people preparing these foods in these countries are neither chefs nor experienced in the preparation of Chinese foods. This does not mean that these cooks are not capable to prepare enjoyable foods. However, it affects the question of whether the lack of authenticity in Chinese foods in host countries is because of those who are preparing them. The lack of experience and knowledge in making these foods potentially influences the lack of authenticity and quality. The changes in Chinese foods can be directly compared to changes in the American fastfood economy. Different countries and regions prefer the convenience offered by fast foods and its prices. However, according to research, American fast food joints have been known to change and adapt their menus to fit the different countries and regions and also align with their cultures. Stern explain that “The concept of meeting consumer demands is tied to changing with consumer tastes and preferences” (Stern). In this case these fast food joints need to make sure that they are fitted for community need. For example, changing the beef ingredient in burgers to pork in Chinese. The Chinese people value pork. As a result, fast food joints and restaurants are tending to transform their menus to fit with these tastes. It is important to understand that other than satisfying the needs and wants of the local consumers, restaurants and eateries operate as businesses. These restaurants have been established not only providing a good experience but HSU also generating revenue. This is why most Chinese restaurants in American counties have transformed their menus to suit the needs of the locals. HSU Works Cited Chen, Yong. "“Chinese-American Cuisine” And The Authenticity Of Chop Suey". University Press Scholarship Online, 2016, https://www.universitypressscholarship.com/view/10.7312/columbia/9780231168922.00 1.0001/upso-9780231168922-chapter-7. Lu, Shun, & Gary Alan Fine. "The presentation of ethnic authenticity: Chinese food as a social accomplishment." The Sociological Quarterly 36.3 (1995): 535-553. https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1111/j.1533-8525.1995.tb00452.x Stern, Steven. "Fast-Food Chains Adapt To Local Tastes - CNN.Com". Cnn.Com, 2010, http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/homestyle/04/08/fast.food/index.html. Sunseri, Charlotte. "Meat Economies Of The Chinese-American West". Core.Tdar.Org, 2015 https://core.tdar.org/document/434332/meat-economies-of-the-chinese-american-west. ‘‘I’ll Take Chop Suey’’: Restaurants as Agents of Culinary and Cultural Change Samantha Barbas For the past 150 years, restaurants have been a central part of the American experience. More than mere eating establishments, they have been important regional landmarks, community meeting spots, and cultural institutions. In restaurants, stories have been shared, romances sparked, plans hatched, and ethnic, regional, and political ties established, strengthened, and reaffirmed. Though many towns, particularly today, lack public gathering places, there have always been local eating houses that have served as thriving social centers. Although restaurants have often had conservative social functions, preserving established foodways and cultural boundaries, they have also been agents of innovation, and have exposed Americans to a variety of tastes, communities, and social groups they may otherwise never have encountered. In particular, as I illustrate in this article, restaurants have encouraged, even in periods of social and political conservatism, the crossing of formidable ethnic and cultural barriers. In search of cheaper, quicker, and more interesting cuisine, Americans have often suspended traditional racial prejudices and opened themselves to a range of diverse culinary and cultural experiences. Between 1870 and 1930, a time of great political and social hostility against Asian immigrants, Chinese restaurants drew a thriving business from non-Chinese customers. Lured by the possibility of experiencing ‘‘Oriental’’ sensuality or ‘‘exotic’’ foreign cuisine, thousands of white Americans patronized restaurants owned and operated by immigrant Chinese. Though their encounters with Chinese Americans may have done relatively little to change deeply-held racial prejudices, they did alter middle-class eating preferences. As a result of their experiences in Chinese restaurants, white customers adopted tastes that would eventually transform the American diet. 669 670
Journal of Popular Culture In this article I examine the history of this cross-cultural interaction, its effects on racial attitudes and food preferences, and ultimately, why restaurants were able to facilitate boundary crossing in a way that other institutions could not. Though the presence of Chinese Americans in nonethnic businesses or social settings might have been threatening, their subservient role as restaurant cooks and servers, I suggest, posed little danger to middle-class white Americans. Moreover, Chinese food, like most ethnic cuisines, lent itself easily to adaptation and Westernization. Though authentic Chinese cuisine was shunned by most whites, ‘‘hybrid’’ dishes like chop suey and chow mein were able to penetrate, and significantly influence, the middleclass diet. In short, Chinese restaurants encouraged Americans to maintain many social, ethnic, and geographic boundaries, and at the same time, to breach others. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, restaurants became the venue, and food the medium, of the first hesitant steps toward culinary and cultural exchange. The First Boundary Crossers: Workers, Epicures, Bohemians, ‘‘Tourists’’ In the 1870s, remembers journalist Idwal Jones, hungry workers and travelers in San Francisco’s Chinatown found sustenance and solace in a fragrant, gilded culinary palace called the Balcony of Golden Joy and Delight. With a ‘‘monstrous and shiny roast pig’’ hanging at the entrance, and the ‘‘enticing aroma’’ of smoked meats permeating the air, the Balcony served up to four hundred customers at a time, at prices lower than cheap. If a visitor had little money, he was taken into ‘‘the sanctum of Tsing TsingFa stout mandarin with a beard, peacock’s feathers, a fan, and sheaths for finger-nailsFwho gave a nod of approval. Then the wayfarer was taken to the kitchen where, standing, he could dine ad libitum.’’ Having gorged on the cuisine and atmosphere, diners stumbled onto the Chinatown streets, ‘‘a realm of banners and scarlet balconies, as colorful as Soochow and twice as odorous’’ (Jones 455-56). A ‘‘quaint, mysterious, gorgeous, hideous . . . hillside, covered with burrows . . . [and] yawning, subterranean passages and chambers,’’ in the words of another author, Chinatown harbored innumerable restaurants brimming with foods exotic, enticing and wonderfully yet ‘‘strangely barbaric’’ (Kessler 445). ‘‘I’ll Take Chop Suey’’
671 The Chinese immigrants who established San Francisco’s Chinatown in the 1850s had little idea that their restaurants and neighborhood streets would attract such an enthusiasticFand imaginativeFcrowd of white visitors. Built primarily for a local clientele, the eating establishments in Chinese immigrant communities served male workers who, due to legal restriction, expense, and circumstance (many workers assumed their stay would be temporary) had journeyed to America without wives. In 1850, San Francisco’s Chinatown housed fifteen apothecaries, five herb shops, three boarding houses, five butcher stores, and five restaurants. By the late 1860s, New York’s Chinatown similarly boasted a small but growing array of shops, boardinghouses, and eating establishments. Though few non-Chinese entered the tightly-knit communities during these initial years, by the 1870s, crowds of white Americans could be seen on the Chinatown streets in both cities. Cynical white journalists had a name for themFthey were ‘‘gawkers,’’ ‘‘slummers,’’ and ‘‘curiosity seekers,’’ and by mainstream middle-class standards, up to no good (Takaki 17). The ‘‘curiosity seekers’’ came in search of adventure and pleasureFand more often than not, food. Though many white working-class men were lured to Chinatown by its gambling and prostitution houses, they were also attracted by the possibility of finding cheap and filling meals. Accustomed to Chinese cooks, who had worked with whites on mines and railroads, many working-class men in the mid-nineteenth century began patronizing the eating establishments that had been established by Chinatown entrepreneurs for the growing white tourist trade. Customers dined on American dishes, such as baked beans, steak and eggs, or hash, or on such hybrid ‘‘Chinese American’’ concoctions as egg foo yung (dubbed ‘‘Hangtown Fry’’), rice casseroles, and fried noodles. Often believing that the Chinese ate rodents or dogs, white workers generally steered clear of more authentic establishments where, according to an 1876 San Francisco guidebook, ‘‘rare, but sometimes also disgusting foods were consumed’’ (Gabaccia 103). In native Chinese restaurants, reported one disgusted white observer, ‘‘pale cakes with a waxen look, full of meats, are brought out. They are sausages in disguise. Then giblets of you-never-know-what, maybe gizzards, possibly livers, perhaps toes’’ (Mariani 77). For epicures, upper-class thrill-seekers, and other nineteenth century culinary adventurers, however, the possibility of 672
Journal of Popular Culture eating rare foreign foods had definite appeal. Seeking a taste of the exotic, wealthy urbanites occasionally ventured into ‘‘high toned’’ Chinese restaurantsFelegant establishments appointed with white tablecloths and gleaming silverware for the upperclass visitor trade. In 1865, Samuel Bowles, a newspaper editor visiting San Francisco, reported attending a sumptuous banquet in a Chinatown restaurant at which bird’s nest soup, reindeer sinews, fried fungus, and dozens of other delicacies were served. Claiming later that the ‘‘food was not very filling,’’ Bowles dispatched to the nearest American restaurant, where he dined hungrily on chops, squab, fried potatoes, and champagne (Lovegren 87). A minister who in 1876 dined in a ‘‘respectable’’ Chinatown restaurant complete with ‘‘knives, forks, plates, tablecloths, and napkins,’’ noted only two drawbacks to his otherwise savory meal: that many of the dishes tasted of ‘‘strong butter,’’ and ‘‘the inability of Americans to use chopsticks’’ (Gibson 71). ‘‘The best Chinese restaurants,’’ a writer for Living Age magazine later recalled, were constantly patronized by white people. Here national delicacies . . . such as bird’s nest soup . . . and the meat of the abalone shell were served to the guest in many strange and mysterious forms. The delicious lichee nut was greatly esteemed by the Americans, as well as . . . various sweetmeats. (Scheffaner 355) For the upper and working class, traditionally associated with sensual excess, forays into Chinatown restaurants, identified in the popular press as ‘‘dens of iniquity’’ and ‘‘places where vice dwells,’’ hardly compromised their social standing. Nor did they threaten a band of young intellectuals called Bohemians, who found that trips to Chinatown actually enhanced their rebellious image. Dissatisfied with the rigid, morally conservative middleclass lifestyle, Bohemians saw in immigrant Chinese culture great sensuality and freedom, and flocked to Chinatown in droves. Rich with pungent smells and tastes, Chinese restaurants proved particularly fertile ground for the Bohemians’ exotic fantasies. ‘‘Though a narrow hall and up dirty stairs brings one to the Chinese Delmonico’s restaurant,’’ wrote an experienced New York ‘‘slummer’’ in an account for Once A Week magazine in 1893. ‘‘A good dinner consists of nine courses, served on bare wooden tables and eaten with ‘‘I’ll Take Chop Suey’’
673 chopsticks.’’ Even more enticing than the meal, he suggested, was the gritty atmosphere: As the dinner proceeds, some of the natives kick off their slippers, their bare stockings peering through the rungs of their stools. The odor of fuming cigarettes fills the air; an incessant babble prevails; every few moments you will see a Chinese pick up a bone or a bit of refuse food and deliberately send it flying under the table to the dirty floor! To most Americans, it was ‘‘as unininviting as a pig-sty,’’ but for the slummers, sheer delight. ‘‘The visitors to Chinatown love it dearly,’’ concluded the author, ‘‘and laugh and chatter. Thus today the ‘slummers’ eat, drink, and are merry in their experience with strange new dishes’’ (qtd. in Bonner 97). To many middle-class Americans, the Bohemians’ nightly expeditions were evidence of ‘‘morbid curiosity’’ and ‘‘innate depraved taste.’’ ‘‘One can easily imagine the effect of the sights witnessed on the girls of tender years, unsophisticated and practically ignorant of the world and its wicked ways,’’ wrote one reader of the New York Times. No ‘‘decent’’ person should be found among the immoral, ‘‘heathen’’ Chinese, he declared, ‘‘unless they are on an errand of mercy’’ (‘‘Seeing Chinatown’’). Ironically, and much to the dismay of social critics, the outcry over the slummers only fueled greater public interest in Chinatown. Intrigued by accounts of the slummers’ adventures, as well as a growing fascination with non-Western cultures, reflected in Orientalist art and literature of the period, an increasing number of white middle-class Americans journeyed into Chinese immigrant communities. Frequently accompanied by paid white tour guides, who led their charges safely through the streets, tourists visited ‘‘joss houses,’’ or temples, attended Chinese plays, shopped in curio stores, and in the process, turned Chinatowns into popular sightseeing destinations. For the immigrant Chinese, struggling for economic survival, the support of the local economy could not have come at a more opportune time. During the nineteenth century, as historian Ronald Takaki has noted, Chinese laborers played a significant role in nearly every sector of the American economyFagriculture, mining, manufacturing, and transportation. Yet by the early twentieth century, they had been forced out of the general labor market by hostile labor unions, exclusionary legal policies, and racial 674
Journal of Popular Culture discrimination, and segregated into an ethnic labor niche. The new work opportunities available to Chinese Americans centered primarily around service occupations, such as laundry and restaurant work, based in Chinatowns and catering to largely Chinese customers. With opportunities for employment outside Chinatown decreasingFeven the laundry business, due to white competition and the increasing feasibility of washing clothes at home, began to declineFthe Chinese American community had a strong incentive to build the tourist trade (Takaki 239-40). By 1900, the increasingly powerful Chinatown merchant class initiated a campaign to ‘‘clean up Chinatown’’ by suppressing the local vice industry, and shop owners and theater proprietors began renovating their facilities for a white clientele. Restaurateurs refurbished their establishments with gaudy lanterns, colorful wall decorations, and bright red façades, to match stereotypical white fantasies of ‘‘Oriental’’ decor, and scrubbed their floors and kitchens meticulously, lest rumors of poor sanitation arise. New dishes, too, were created for the visitorsF‘‘pineapple chicken’’ and ‘‘stuffed chicken wings,’’ among othersFbut even these, for many tourists, still seemed too foreign. Seeking a less intimidating menu, restaurant cooks began serving an ingenious concoction that fused American tastes with a smattering of Asian ingredients. During the last decade of the nineteenth century, in many Chinatown restaurants appeared a new dish called ‘‘chop suey,’’ a concoction typically involving bean sprouts, celery, onions, water chestnuts, green peppers, soy sauce, and either pork or chicken, chopped in small pieces. Though later derided for its inauthenticityFit was ‘‘a culinary joke at the expense of the foreigner,’’ in the words of one commentatorFto the first white customers of the ‘‘chop suey’’ restaurants, it seemed genuine enough (Crow 425). The dish proved an instant success. In 1896, according to one magazine writer, chop suey drew customers to Chinatown in droves. Under the ‘‘magnetic influence’’ of the dish, thousands of white Americans paraded like zombies to Chinese restaurants. ‘‘An American who once falls under the spell of chop suey may forget all about things Chinese for a while, and suddenly a strange craving . . . arises [and] he finds that his feet are carrying him to Mott Street’’ (Bonner 97). A few years later, over one hundred chop suey restaurants operated in New York, a fact that alarmed many observers. ‘‘A surprisingly large ‘‘I’ll Take Chop Suey’’
675 number of Chinese restaurants have made their appearance in recent years,’’ reported a journalist for The New York Tribune in 1902. ‘‘Nothing about them seems attractive,’’ he wrote, ‘‘and yet these places thrive and their number increases with astonishing rapidity. Twenty-five cents worth of some kinds of chop suey, served with rice, will make a toothsome dish for two people. Tea is served free of charge and the quantity is not limited’’ (qtd. in Bonner 97). For the many Americans who had become ‘‘chop suey addicts,’’ in the words of one writer, food had become a powerful motivation for frequent Chinatown visits. In a period of great social and political conservatism, when Chinese immigrants were the subject of racial violence and legal discrimination, thousands of Americans were willing to briefly suspend their hostilities and journey into Chinatown for an evening’s entertainment. Due in large part to the efforts of immigrant merchants and restaurateurs, who adapted their menus and decor to suit white preferences, middle-class tourists found in Chinatowns a temporary release from their daily routines and the fulfillment of their colorful Orientalist fantasies. During the first decades of the twentieth century, Chinatowns saw even more fervent boundary crossing, as thousands of Americans continued to seek in Chinese immigrant communities, novelty, relaxation, titillation, and excitement. Tourists brought with them dollars and dreams, and as entrepreneurs hoped, took home souvenirs and memories. They also exported something that the merchants never envisionedF a passion for chop suey. Through the ‘‘hybrid’’ dish, Chinese cooking, albeit in a watered down, highly distorted form, left its Chinatown borders and crossed into mainstream American culture. Though most tourists were still unwilling to embrace racial diversity, Chinese food was another story. The Chop Suey Craze Between 1900 and 1920, the Chinese restaurant industry expanded tremendously. Attracted by the growing popularity of chop suey and physical improvements in many ChinatownsF following the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, Chinese American merchants refashioned their establishments to resemble glittering pagodas and advertised the ‘‘new’’ Chinatown as ‘‘clean, healthfully and morally’’Fwhite Americans visited Chinatowns and Chinese restaurants in increasing numbers 676
Journal of Popular Culture (‘‘Historic Chinatown’’ 10). Between 1870 and 1920, the number of Chinese restaurant workers increased from 164 to 11,438, even though the total number of Chinese employed had declined during the period, and in many cities, the number of Chinese restaurants doubled between 1900 and 1920 (Takaki 247). The growing public interest in chop suey, chow mein, and other Chinese-American dishes not only boosted the fortunes of immigrant restaurateurs, but also, unexpectedly, the careers of aspiring journalists, who turned Chinese restaurants into the subject of fanciful stories in the popular press. After eating a dinner in a Chinatown tea house, claimed a writer for Overland magazine, she was possessed with terrifying nightmares. After dreaming that she had been kidnaped by a sadistic Chinese merchant, she vowed to stay away from the ‘‘Chang Foo dining room’’ and instead eat ‘‘more sensible suppers’’ (The Stevensons 45). ‘‘Chop Suey,’’ declared one journalist, was ‘‘the Oriental device which makes our poor old hash blush for its simplicity.’’ Made of ‘‘a few old shoes, brass-buttons, and a wornout pipe . . . it swims about in a bedragoned bowl, and you eat it if you can’’ (Harrison 529). Chop suey restaurants appeared in popular films, and the dish was even celebrated in song: ‘‘Who’ll Chop Your Suey When I’m Gone?,’’ it asked (Lovegren 89). By 1920 if not earlier, millions of Americans had become familiar with chop suey, and more than a few had crossed into to Chinatown to taste it. In fact, as many ‘‘chop suey addicts’’ were discovering, trips to Chinatown were becoming increasingly unnecessary. Many first and second generation Chinese Americans, sensing the popularity of Westernized Chinese dishes, had moved outside the boundaries of Chinatown into ethnically mixed urban and suburban neighborhoods, where they opened ‘‘chop suey parlors’’ and ‘‘Chinese American’’ restaurants catering to white customers. Carol Kennicott, the main character in Sinclair Lewis’ novel Main Street, from 1920, dines in one such restaurant in MinneapolisFa ‘‘Chinese restaurant that was frequented by clerks and their sweethearts on paydays. They sat at a teak and marble table eating Eggs Foo Yung, and listened to a brassy automatic piano, and were altogether cosmopolitan’’ (Lewis 208). Other establishments, like the Culver City Chop Suey Café near Los Angeles, served filling, inexpensive meals without the pretentious decor. In addition to chop suey, several restaurants featured such popular lunchroom standards as roast ‘‘I’ll Take Chop Suey’’
677 turkey, beef stew, and sandwichesFone Los Angeles restaurant featured an ‘‘extra special merchant lunch’’ of soup, bread, and potatoes in addition to its ‘‘Chinese chop suey,’’ ‘‘American chop suey,’’ ‘‘Mushroom chop suey,’’ and ‘‘Li Hong Chong chop suey’’ (‘‘Culver City Chop Suey Café’’). Chop suey was moving well beyond Chinatown, and winning the support and loyalty of an increasing number of white customers. By 1920, some were so devoted to the dish that they began requesting chop suey in non-Chinese restaurants. ‘‘I operate a medium size restaurant and recently I have received a number of calls for chop suey,’’ wrote one proprietor to a restaurant industry trade publication. ‘‘As neither myself nor my chef have any experience in preparing the dish, we ask you to help us out and send us a good recipe for chop suey.’’ ‘‘I am interested in Chop Suey,’’ wrote another, ‘‘and I would be very grateful if you could tell me how to sprout beans’’ (Hancock 26). During the early 1920s, the pages of National Restaurant News, The American Restaurant, and other food service journals filled with similar requests. Restaurant customers across the nation were suddenly requesting chop suey, and bewildered cooks, not knowing how to prepare the dish, went in frantic search of recipes. ‘‘Cut up a pound of onions into slices. Then cut up ten pounds of beef . . . (and) six or seven stalks of celery. Mix the concoction and cook as a pot roast on top of the stove,’’ advised one magazine. ‘‘Brown the onions slightly, add the shredded peppers, pork, mushrooms, and celery,’’ suggested another. ‘‘Serve with bran corn flakes, pouring the chop suey over them’’ (‘‘Food Bureau’’ 18). Simple and inexpensive, chop suey was an ideal dish for lunchrooms, cafeterias, and other quick-service restaurants. Requiring little if any preparation, particularly if canned vegetables were used, it could be cooked in bulk during the morning, preserved in large vats, and reheated and served throughout the day. The only difficulty, restaurateurs complained, was that many of the key ingredientsFin particular, bean sprouts and soy sauce, commonly found only in Chinese groceriesFwere hard to obtain from restaurant suppliers. In 1924, the newly-formed La Choy Food Products company, started in 1920 by University of Michigan student Wally Smith and his Korean-born partner, Ilhan New, solved the problem with bottled and canned chop suey ingredients for restaurants, hotels, and other food service institutions. Featuring canned bean sprouts, soy sauce, ‘‘brown sauce,’’ and a vegetable mix 678
Journal of Popular Culture called La Choy Sub Kum, the new line was promoted at the 1924 National Restaurant Association convention, along with chop suey recipes ‘‘which follow the traditions of centuries of Oriental domestic cookery, and which have been tested and approved by a score of famous Chinese chefs’’ (‘‘La Choy Food Products Co.’’ 30). By the end of the decade, a competing brand, marketed by the Fuji Trading Company of Chicago, featured bean sprouts, ‘‘chop suey sauce,’’ and even canned chop suey for speedy lunchroom and cafeteria preparations. ‘‘The Chinese restaurants have rendered a valuable service to the American restaurateur by developing a great demand for Oriental foods,’’ reported a restaurant industry journal. ‘‘Nothing remains for our chefs, now that they may obtain the materials and master the simple technic [sic] of Chinese cookery, but to add these very profitable dishes to their menus’’ (‘‘La Choy Food Products Co.’’ 30). And judging from reports from restaurateurs across the nation, many in the 1920s did. ‘‘A number of Detroit restaurants are cashing in on the sale of chop suey and chow mein,’’ announced National Restaurant News in 1923. ‘‘The Ueata Lunch Company ran chop suey on their bill of fare every day . . . and found it to be a good seller, especially at night. The average sale was 100 gallons a day’’ (‘‘Chop Suey and Chow Mein Good Sellers’’ 46). Several automobile manufacturers began using chop suey in their factory cafeterias, and even restaurateurs in small towns in the Midwest and South, where Chinese Americans were relatively few, reported significant interest in the ‘‘smooth, tasty and nourishing’’ dish that had become ‘‘so popular’’ in recent years (‘‘Feeding 50,000 Men a Day’’ 29). The Walton’s Cafeteria chain of Augusta, Georgia, reported Cafeteria Management magazine, had achieved local acclaim for its ‘‘chop suey of all varieties . . . prepared by an experienced cook’’; one Northwestern café owner, claimed another journal, successfully garnered the after-theater crowd in his city with his ‘‘fresh mushroom chop suey’’ and ‘‘eggs fou young’’ (Oliver 481). By the end of the decade, chop suey, egg rolls, fortune cookies, chow mein, and other hybrid Chinese-American foods had become so popular among restaurant goers that white entrepreneurs in major cities began opening their own ‘‘Chinese’’ restaurants. In 1929, two San Francisco businessmen opened the Mandarin Cafe, the first ‘‘American-managed’’ Chinese restaurant in the country, according to Restaurant ‘‘I’ll Take Chop Suey’’
679 Management magazine. Featuring chicken chow mein, ‘‘Mandarin Chop Suey,’’ and the questionable ‘‘Chow Yuke’’F‘‘green Chinese vegetables with mushrooms and water chestnuts’’Fthe restaurant served between four and five hundred customers each day (‘‘This Chinese Café’’ 381). ‘‘Delicious,’’ ‘‘novel,’’ and even ‘‘nutritious’’Fbean sprouts, reported The American Restaurant, were high in vitamin CFchop suey, like Chinese restaurants, had facilitated the crossing of significant geographic, culinary, and cultural boundaries (‘‘Interesting Facts’’ 106). ‘‘Tourists’’ continued to travel to Chinatowns in search of Chinese restaurants, while immigrant entrepreneurs gradually moved away from their ethnic communities to capitalize on the growing interest in Chinese American meals. By the late 1920s, white restaurant goers had become so familiar with chop suey that they transported it over another cultural boundary, this one perhaps even more formidable. Through chop suey, ‘‘Chinese’’ food found its way into the ultimate bastion of culinary conservatismFthe American middle-class home. ‘‘Be Your Own Chinese Chef’’ Throughout the early twentieth century, the recipes that appeared in middle-class cookbooks could best be described in three wordsFcreamy, meaty, and sweet. Dominated by home economics or ‘‘domestic science,’’ a movement of cooks and nutritionists with decidedly conservative food preferences, most cooking literature of the era promoted the traditional New England menuFsuch dishes as baked beans, brown bread, boiled vegetables, and beef stew. Though a few ‘‘international’’ recipes, for spaghetti or macaroni and cheese, for example, appeared occasionally in mainstream cookbooks, even such timid forays into culinary diversity were few and far between. Heavy, starchy, and plain if not bland, most middle-class American cooking followed a tradition hostile to excessive spices, sharp flavors, and any ‘‘foreign’’Fnon-English or nonWestern EuropeanFingredients. Thus the appearance of Chinese recipes in mainstream cookbooks and women’s magazines of the 1920s marked a significant departure from established culinary preferences and patterns. Requiring no salt, bread, or dairy products, and instead such rare and unfamiliar ingredients as bean sprouts, ginger root, soy sauce, and water chestnuts, the new recipes for 680
Journal of Popular Culture ‘‘Chinese Chop Suey’’ and chow mein must have seemed strange if not daunting, but for those who had eaten in Chinese American restaurants, perhaps slightly less challenging. In fact, as many writers for Good Housekeeping and The Ladies’ Home Journal confessed, the reason that ‘‘Chinese cookery’’ appeared so commonly in women’s magazines of the 1920s was linked directly to Chinese restaurantsFwomen who had tasted chop suey and chow mein in Chinatown cafes, as well as non-Chinese cafeterias and lunchrooms, had become so enamored with the dish that they wanted to prepare it at home. ‘‘Have you ever attempted to make Chop Suey at home and wondered why it didn’t taste so good as it did in a Chinese restaurant?’’ asked a writer for Good Housekeeping. The key to good chop suey lay in two crucial ingredientsF‘‘Chinese sauce, or soy sauce, as we Americans call it,’’ and ‘‘Sesamum-seed oil, a strong delicious oil, a few drops of which will greatly improve a dish and give it a real Chinese tang’’ (Evans 67). Both products, magazines assured, were available in mainstream grocery stores. ‘‘Though heretofore Chinese vegetables and sauces could be purchased only in Chinese shops, today bamboo shoots, noodles, soy bean sauce, brown sauce and kumquats . . . are all being packed in tin cans and bottles and sold in our retail markets,’’ Good Housekeeping explained. With a few bottles of soy sauce, some canned bean sprouts, and simple instructions, any woman could be her own ‘‘Chinese chef ’’ (Allen 72). Judging from popular accounts of the period, many middleclass housewives of the 1920s were, in fact, using soy sauce, bean sprouts, water chestnuts, and chow mein noodles to prepare their own ‘‘Chinese’’ meals at home. In particular, chop suey and chow mein were frequently the centerpiece of elaborate luncheon parties and ‘‘theme dinners’’ thrown by ambitious middle-class women of the 1920s for their titillatedFor in some cases, bewilderedFguests. In Main Street, city-bred Carol Kennicott shocks her small-town neighbors with a lavish Chinese dinner party featuring ‘‘blue bowls of chow mein... and ginger preserved in syrup’’ (Lewis 81). Other wives of the period held ‘‘mah jongg parties’’ featuring, as mid-game refreshments, egg foo yung, lichee nuts, and tea. Guests took in the meals with ‘‘agreeable doubt,’’ in Sinclair Lewis’s words, and ventured bravely, with forks and chopsticks, into new culinary territory. Some left dinner less than satisfied, but others with interest in the ‘‘exotic’’ cuisine, which many Americans, even by the ‘‘I’ll Take Chop Suey’’
681 late 1920s, thought was truly foreign. In 1930, the Fuji Food Company shocked many ‘‘chop suey addicts’’ by announcing that ‘‘contrary to general understanding,’’ the dish was ‘‘purely American and to procure it in China is practically an impossibility’’ (‘‘Making Oriental Dishes’’ 28). Restaurants, magazines, and cookbooks, however, continued to classify chop suey as Chinese, and during the 1930s, many families who ate chop suey for dinner seem to have genuinely believed that they were ‘‘eating ethnic.’’ By the 1930s, chop suey, chow mein, and other Chinese American foods had become popular dinnertime staples. During the Depression and World War II, the inexpensive, filling dishes were lauded by women’s magazines as an effective way to stretch the family food budget. ‘‘Chop suey parlors’’ continued to flourish both in and out of Chinatown, attracting an increasing number of middle-class patrons, and during the 1940s, thanks in part to the US Army, frozen and canned chop suey and chow mein began appearing on mainstream grocers’ shelves. Italian American entrepreneur Jeno Paulucci, noticing that returning veterans had developed a taste for chop suey, which had been served in Army mess halls, started a line of prepackaged ‘‘Chinese’’ dinners, marketed under the brand name Chun King. With their trademark red labels and inventive packaging (chow mein was sold in two separate cans, one for vegetables and one for the crispy noodles), Chun King dinners can still be found in grocery stores today. Due in large part to the initial efforts of Chinese immigrant restaurateurs, flavors and ingredients once considered exoticFsoy sauce, bean sprouts, water chestnuts, ginger, among othersFhad become an accepted part of the mainstream middle-class diet. Cuisine, Identity, and Culture The story of chop suey and Chinese American dishes in the first half of the twentieth century illustrates the way that restaurants have been able to initiate, however slight, crosscultural interaction and culinary diversification. It also raises important questions about why food and eating establishments have often been more successful in promoting exchange between diverse cultural groups and traditions than other social institutionsFwhy many Americans, during a time of intense anti-immigrant sentiment and hostility toward Asian 682
Journal of Popular Culture Americans, seemed more than eager to adopt ‘‘Chinese’’ food into their diets. There are a number of possible explanations for this paradox, having largely to do with traditional attitudes toward non-Western cultures and the longstanding image of subordinate peoples as preparers and servers of food. As anthropologist Lisa Heldke has suggested, eating foreign food has long been a form of cultural and ‘‘culinary imperialism,’’ in which colonizers confirm their dominance over a culture by appropriating and subverting its cuisine (175-93). For white Americans struck by the Orientalist craze of the 1920sFthe same craze that gave rise to Rudolph Valentino, Fu Manchu, and other popular ‘‘Oriental’’ images and icons of the eraF eating chop suey became an inexpensive and safe way, quite literally, to taste the Other. Moreover, the image of Chinese Americans as restaurant servers or cooks posed little threat to most AmericansFalthough they could not accept the presence of Chinese Americans in mainstream social settings or businesses, they had little trouble envisioning them in subservient roles. Chop suey became more popular, in fact, the further it moved from Chinese American peopleFthough hybrid dishes achieved their initial popularity in Chinatown restaurants, the real ‘‘chop suey craze’’ began when the dish entered non-Chinese restaurants and homes. As culinary historian Harvey Levenstein has noted, Chinese American food became extraordinarily popular in the Midwest, a region where, not coincidentally, Chinese immigrants were fewest (Levenstein 216). Indeed, Americans’ exposure to Chinese American food in the early twentieth century seems to have done little to change dominant attitudes toward Asian immigrants. Many white restaurateurs who served chop suey often used popular racial stereotypes as a means of attracting customers. Hoping to stir up enthusiasm for his chop suey and chow mein lunches, one cafeteria owner advertised that ‘‘the dishes are not made by a Chinaman, which only means that the food is cleaner’’ (Oliver 481). Eating chop suey in Chinese-run, rather than whiteowned restaurants, joked The American Restaurant, was a sure way to contract a diseaseFif not commit ‘‘chop-suey-cide’’ (‘‘Sad Indeed’’ 126). Food manufacturers in the 1920s perpetuated popular images of Chinese and Chinese Americans as unclean, and cookbooks, as scholar Sherrie Inness has written, often portrayed Chinese Americans as foreign, exotic, and ‘‘I’ll Take Chop Suey’’
683 ‘‘inscrutable’’ (107). The growing acceptance Chinese American food clearly did not extend to Chinese Americans. By distancing foods of Chinese origin from people of Chinese origin, and by reaffirming Chinese Americans’ subordinate status through the repeated invocation of racial stereotypes, white Americans were able to adopt Chinese American dishes into their diet in spite of their hostilities toward Asian immigrants. Because it did not disrupt traditional social relationships and often involved little contact with Chinese immigrants, the cultural, geographic, and culinary boundary-crossing initiated by Chinese food and restaurants in the early twentieth century seemed, to many Americans, acceptable and safe. It is important to note, however, that not all Americans of the period were hostile toward Asian immigrants, and that many embarked on their forays into Chinatown, and into Chinese cooking, with legitimate desire for cross-cultural exchange. Many housewives who prepared chop suey and chow mein, like Sinclair Lewis’s Carol Kennicott, found their interest in Chinese cooking a catalyst for further explorations into Asian art and history. Similarly, many women’s magazines printed tidbits of Chinese history and culinary lore along with recipes for chop suey and chow mein, and featured articles on Asian cooking written by Chinese American women. Even more notable, and what perhaps may be the most important result of the chop suey craze of the 1920s, is that it lay the groundwork for more respectful and fruitful culinary and cultural exchange in the latter part of the century. During the 1940s and 50s, many Chinese restaurants expanded their menus to encompass more authentic dishes and flavors; cooking literature of the era also reflected greater openness toward more traditional Chinese cooking styles. In 1945, Buwei Yang Chao achieved significant attention for How to Cook and Eat in Chinese, perhaps the first popular cookbook in English devoted exclusively to Chinese cooking. Unlike the standard ‘‘chop suey and chow mein’’ repertoire in most cookbooks, Chao’s book featured recipes for chicken with oyster sauce, fried rice, pork in wine glaze, and stuffed cucumbersFrevolutionary for home cooks of that era. In the 1950s, Chinese American women offered Chinese cooking courses at YWCAs and community centers throughout the nation, and by the 1970s, a wide range of dishes from a variety of Chinese regions appeared in cookbooks, restaurants, and even mainstream 684
Journal of Popular Culture grocery stores. Political, cultural, and demographic factorsF growing tolerance for ethnic diversity, greater foreign travel, and increasing numbers of Asian immigrants, among othersF have played a significant role in the recent popularity of Asian foods, but the influence of Chinese restaurants and their ‘‘hybrid’’ dishes must also be taken into account. By introducing Americans to new ingredients and flavorsFand most important, to the very idea of eating outside their own cultural traditionFdishes like chop suey and chow mein helped transform America into a nation of multicultural diners. What this case study of Chinese restaurants and Chinese American food may suggest is that culinary preferences do not always correlate with racial and social attitudesFthat cultural minorities, for example, may seem far less threatening to dominant social groups when placed in the context of food and dining. For that reason, restaurants, particularly ethnic restaurants, may be more interesting and lively sites of cross-cultural exchange and interaction than scholars have traditionally assumed. Notably, Harvey Levenstein has written that Italian American restaurateurs initiated boundary-crossing in the 1920s and 30sFItalian restaurants were largely responsible for the popularity of pasta and pizza among mainstream American consumersFand historian Donna Gabaccia, in We Are What We Eat: Ethnic Food and the Making of Americans, has suggested that Jewish and Mexican American restaurants may have sparked similar patterns of culinary transmission and exchange. What is needed in the fields of American studies and American culinary history are more case studies and explorations into the ways that particular foods and restaurants have facilitated cultural and dietary diversification, transforming how we cook, what we eat, and ultimately, who we are. Works Cited Allen, Roberta. ‘‘Be Your Own Chinese Chef.’’ Good Housekeeping Jan. 1928: 72. Bonner, Arthur. Alas! What Brought Thee Hither. Madison: Fairleigh Dickinson UP, 1997. ‘‘Chop Suey and Chow Mein Good Sellers.’’ National Restaurant News June 1923: 46. Crow, Carl. ‘‘Sharks Fins and Ancient Eggs.’’ Harper’s Sept. 1937: 422-29. ‘‘I’ll Take Chop Suey’’
685 ‘‘Culver City Chop Suey Café.’’ Menu Collection, Los Angeles Public Library (http://www.lapl.org/elec_neigh/index.html). Evans, Jean Carol. ‘‘As the Chinese Cook.’’ Good Housekeeping March 1923: 67. ‘‘Feeding 50,000 Men a Day!’’ Cafeteria Management June 1927: 29. ‘‘Food Bureau.’’ Cafeteria Management Jan. 1928: 18. Gabaccia, Donna. We Are What We Eat: Ethnic Food and the Making of Americans. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1998. Gibson, O. The Chinese in America. Cincinnati: Hitchcock and Walden, 1877. Hancock, Emory. ‘‘Making the Small Town Restaurant Pay.’’ National Restaurant News Jan. 1925: 26. Harrison, Alice. ‘‘Chinese Food and Restaurants.’’ Overland Monthly June 1917: 527-32. Heldke, Lisa. ‘‘Let’s Cook Thai: Recipes for Colonialism’’ in Pilaf, Pozole and Pad Thai: American Women and Ethnic Food. Ed. Sherrie Inness. Amherst: U of Massachusetts P, 2000. ‘‘Historic Chinatown.’’ The San Francisco Chronicle 24 Dec. 1917: 10. Inness, Sherrie. Dinner Roles: American Women and Culinary Culture. Iowa City: U of Iowa P, 2000. ‘‘Interesting Facts about Vitamin C.’’ The American Restaurant Nov. 1927: 106. Jones, Idwal. ‘‘Cathay on the Coast.’’ The American Mercury Aug. 1926: 453-60. Kessler, D. E. ‘‘An Evening in Chinatown.’’ Overland Monthly May 1907: 445-49. Lovegren, Sylvia. Fashionable Food. New York: Macmillan, 1995. ‘‘Making Oriental Dishes Popular in American Restaurants.’’ The American Restaurant July 1930: 28. Mariani, John. America Eats Out. New York: William Morrow, 1991. Oliver, John. ‘‘Business Building Ideas.’’ The American Restaurant Aug. 1927. ‘‘Sad Indeed.’’ The American Restaurant Sept. 1927: 126. Scheffaner, Herman. ‘‘The Old Chinese Quarter.’’ Living Age Aug. 1910: 359-66. ‘‘Seeing Chinatown.’’ New York Times 28 Aug. 1905: 10. The Stevensons. ‘‘Chinatown, My Land of Dreams.’’ Overland Monthly Jan. 1919: 42-45. ‘‘This Chinese Café Is Run by Two Americans.’’ Restaurant Management June 1929: 381. Takaki, Ronald. Strangers from a Different Shore: A History of Asian Americans. Boston: Little, Brown, 1989. 686
Journal of Popular Culture Samantha Barbas is assistant professor of history at Chapman University in Orange, California. A specialist in American cultural history, she is the author of Movie Crazy: Fans, Stars and the Cult of Celebrity (Palgrave/St. Martin’s Press, 2001). Copyright of Journal of Popular Culture is the property of Wiley-Blackwell and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use. Putting Mexican Cuisine on the Table: The Cultural Dimension of Cuisine as Connecting Point by Patricia Jimenez Kwast, Ji Hae Kim If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion and avoid the people, you might better stay home. - James Michener New York City!! Often praised as ‘the Melting Pot of the World’, it is hard to imagine a city with more diversity in immigrant communities, cultural expressions, languages, celebrations, and … cuisine. Beyond the bagels, hotdogs, pretzels, pizzas, gyros and tacos on virtually every street corner, there is a world of ‘ethnic restaurants’ where cuisine and culture meet … or do they? Can food serve as an ambassador of a culture? Does it feed friendliness, understanding, and acceptance of the ‘other’? The potential role of restaurants as facilitators of cross-cultural understanding and interaction is worth examining. Restaurants can take the guest on a cultural as well as culinary exploration that extends even far beyond its doors, or, on the other end of the spectrum, simply yield to a ‘food is just food’ philosophy. As one of the most significant, most recent and fastest growing immigrant groups, the Mexican community and its cuisine shall be at the center of our exploration through three different New York neighborhoods. Is it possible to experience Mexican culture through its cuisine, in a way that would encourage a respectful and understanding interaction with the Mexican community in these areas? I. Jackson Heights Our culinary journey commences in one of New York City’s well-known multicultural neighborhoods – Jackson Heights. A multitude of ethnic eateries, specialty shops, bakeries, and restaurants set the scene for the diverse jumble of Hispanic, South Asian, Korean, and Chinese immigrants who live there, giving the impression of multicultural co-existence and tolerance. Annie, a longtime resident and English teacher in Jackson Heights, perceptively remarks, “This is truly a multicultural neighborhood, peaceful and tolerant, but the different groups tend to live in their own community. There is little interaction.” Describing how the language barrier, cultural and country pride, and stereotypical prejudice distance the Asian and Mexican communities, she characterizes the prevailing attitude as one of neighbors living side by side yet in very different worlds. “They see each other as being very different, unfamiliar. An ‘I don’t eat Chinese food’ versus ‘I don’t eat Mexican food’ attitude is very common.” After some thought, she points us to a Chinese bakery that is popular among both Asian and Hispanic locals – a proposed example of inter-ethnic mingling and communication in spite of obvious language barriers. Yet the extent of interracial socialization is limited to the silent transaction between the Hispanic customer pointing to the pastry of choice, and the Chinese lady behind the counter. While Hispanics usually order to take away, Chinese community members are more likely to eat and socialize ‘in house.’ Even the bakery’s goods are conveniently segregated in two different counters – one displaying traditional Chinese pastries, and the other carrying more “standard” breads for its less-adventurous, non-Chinese customers. Such distinct separation is further apparent by the absence of Asian customers in Mexican eateries. “Asian customers? There are none.” As the Spanish-speaking owner of a small taco shop explains, “They go to their places, we go to ours. They like their food, we like ours.” These local experiences are illustrative of the kind of interaction and attitudes typical to the area. As the ‘Jackson Heights research group’ of the City University of New York Honors College observes, “For the most part the diverse groups get along because ‘despite physical proximity, the different groups in Jackson Heights…live in very different communities’.” The manager of Fiesta Mexicana largely confirms this experience. Despite being nearly next door to Asian shops, businesses, and eateries, there is hardly any Asian-Mexican interaction in the restaurant. The customers to Fiesta Mexicana are almost exclusively white-American or Hispanic. When asked about tensions between the Mexican and Asian communities, he explains, “I think it’s just that in general they don’t care about our culture and food. No hostility, just nothing in common.” According to his experience, showing interest in Mexican cuisine can be important in becoming more familiar with Mexican culture. The opinion that Mexican cuisine and restaurants are cultural representations of Mexico is captured in one of his smiling comments. Proudly praising one of their traditional specialties, he assures us it is impossible to eat their ‘Chimichangas ala Caserola’ without thinking about Mexico with a smile on your lips… II. North Park Slope and downtown Brooklyn “Mexican? You want to find Mexican here??” Shaking her head emphatically from side to side, she chuckles in response to our apparently ludicrous question. Asking for directions to a Mexican restaurant in the predominantly black neighborhood of North Park Slope and downtown Brooklyn is near futile. Such food establishments are scant, reflecting the small presence of Mexicans living in the area. Residents can point out the precise whereabouts of the few Mexicans they know in the community. “Ralph’s on South Portland and Lafayette – the owner has some workers, and I think they’re Mexican…7th Corner Hardware Store – that’s another one you might try...” In such a neighborhood, where there is minimal contact with Mexicans, food may become the primary means of introducing Mexican culture to the larger community. However, restaurants in North Park Slope and downtown Brooklyn are not always able to assume this role. As the answers from locals to our questions disclosed, the ties between culture and food have been partly broken by a prevailing attitude that food is a necessity rather than a luxury of high culture. For many in this neighborhood, eating is dictated by convenience, nutritional value, and “what the pockets can stand.” For locals, this demand is met on the corner of Willoughby and Jay Street, where Super Taco stands proudly as the “Best Tex-Mexican express in New York City.” Inside, the walls are adorned with a large sombrero, and a Mexican flag mounted alongside an American one. At the counter lies a stack of menus, each of which proudly claims, “Mexican food is rate No. 1 in ethnic foods!” The attempt to establish a link with Mexican heritage is a weak one, lost amid the customers who enter and exit the store within a span of five minutes, take-out box in hand. A frequent visitor to Super Taco comments, “People are looking for healthy foods, like rice and beans … I also eat here because it’s about the flavor… and the price. It’s cheap.” And where does the culture fit into this equation? “If you’re hungry, food is food. I don’t care about the culture.” Little wonder that she sees no irony in the fact that this particular Super Taco is both owned and run by a Chinese family. Yet the indifference to culture seems to be true mainly for those of lower income who are confined to seeking out cheap and fast food provided by places such as Super Taco. In practice, this generally means the AfricanAmerican population. Super Taco seems to draw its customers primarily from this group, as our observations and conversations here revealed. In contrast, just a few blocks away, New Mexicali is a sit-down restaurant that caters to those who can afford to pay more for an authentic and friendly experience. Its strongest clientele is found in the white population, which makes for about 60% of the restaurant’s total diners according to the manager. And unlike the bland experience for customers at Super Taco, diners at New Mexicali are constantly engaged in Mexican culture during their dining experience, surrounded by elaborate Mexican décor, music, and bi-lingual staff and menus. The manager of New Mexicali is convinced that such cultural engagement is taking place. “Eating is important. You’re sharing a big joy of life, Mexican way. You can learn a bit more and talk about more than just food.” Willing to facilitate this process, he enjoys sharing his culture with his guests as part of his work. If customers ask or seem interested, he is happy to talk about Mexican traditions, customs, and way of life. III. West Village “Probably most of them here are working, because it’s an expensive neighborhood to live in. I see a lot of them in kitchens, delis…” A young man in Washington Square Park comments thoughtfully on the presence of Mexicans in the West Village area. He adds: “It seems that a lot of people look down on them. I’ve noticed that even South Americans look down on them … and whites look down on Latin Americans in general…” In West Village, the Mexican community includes people from diverse socioeconomic backgrounds, immigrants and non-immigrants alike. But to casual observers in this relatively expensive neighborhood, ‘Mexican’ will most readily evoke the image of immigrant laborers or blue-collar workers. This particular group contributes to the bustling scene of diverse ethnic foods scattered throughout West Village, with their small, ‘authentic’ food shops. But while the potential for contact with Mexican culture is high in such places, discomfort, oftentimes stemming from the language barrier, deters potential customers from entering. Marissa, a resident of upper West Village, shares honestly, “I used to be intimidated because they often only speak Spanish. You feel unwelcome if they don’t speak English at all. It used to make me feel uncomfortable, like an outsider at those places. Like they were thinking, ‘it doesn’t matter if we speak the same language, we have nothing to share; we don’t care if you are here or not.’ But once I didn’t feel like an outsider, I came here more and felt they would welcome me to participate.” On the other end of the spectrum, Mexican food in West Village is simultaneously falling prey to the irresistible draw of fast food culture and big chain restaurants. Brian, a resident who lives and works in the neighborhood, describes the scene, “There’s a burrito place around here that’s owned by some Chinese people. And there’s those ‘American’ version places like Chipotle or Café Caliente, but not many ‘actual’ Mexican places – at least I don’t know where to find them.” Another longtime resident, Michael, confirms the accuracy of this depiction, admitting, “I eat at Mexican restaurants once in a while … but it’s mostly Tex-Mex ‘Americanized’ … it doesn’t seem authentic.” Culture is watered down to near absence in such commercialized or Americanized restaurants, further encouraging disconnect between culture and cuisine. Michael continues: “Most of the ones [restaurants] I know, the atmosphere is like other cheap places like Chinese hole-in-the-wall shops. It’s just burritos instead … I haven’t really felt closer to the culture [by eating], but maybe if I find a ‘real’ Mexican restaurant then it would be different.” Nonetheless, there is a promising movement against this development. Aware of the diminishing presence of Mexican culture in the more accessible and mainstream restaurants, Barbara Sibley is committed to celebrating the richness of Mexico’s history and traditions through her restaurant; La Palapa, located on 359 Sixth Avenue near Washington Place. “I think of it [restaurant] as being a kind of ambassador, because cuisine is very important in learning about a culture or country. Food is the art of a country. So we are very consciously trying to break the stereotype … Like of being loud, having cheap food or cheap ingredients.” With two locations in East and West Village, it specializes in “Mexico City style” cooking. Walking into the West Village, La Palapa guests are immediately greeted by a vast panorama of Rosa Carmina and other wellknown dancers during the 40s and 50s – the golden age of Mexico’s film industry. Further in, another wall is covered with film stills of a young woman who many customers mistake for a famous American actress from decades ago. Ms. Sibley is happy to explain to puzzled customers that the belle is María Félix – Mexico’s Marilyn Monroe of the 40s and 50s, who resisted Hollywood’s repeated efforts to sign her in to play a maid. Beyond the décor, guests also learn about Mexican traditions through their interaction with English-speaking, and oftentimes bi-lingual, waiters. La Palapa’s staff is equipped with Mexican dish and tequila dictionaries, and ready to explain the details of each dish on the menu. It seems that Ms. Sibley’s efforts to foster appreciation of Mexican culture and heritage have been rewarded in recent years. She notes, “Initially, people who came were looking for food like the Taco Bell type. But now you find that people come because they’re interested in the culture, not just the food. People know and appreciate the authenticity of this place.” La Palapa’s success in cross-cultural outreach is evident in the make-up of its clientele. According to Ms. Sibley, about 20 to 30 percent of customers are Mexican families; the rest is mainly comprised of a variety of Asians, whites, and travelers who visited Mexico and wish to recreate their experience abroad. The publicity they received from media groups ranging from a Japanese newspaper and the Chinatown News, to India Today, also stands as a witness to its successful outreach. IV. Conclusion Navigating through several different New York neighborhoods, we have witnessed the potential of Mexican restaurants and eateries to act as a gateway to experiencing Mexican culture. At the same time, however, we also observed that in many cases the ability of Mexican restaurants and eateries to fulfill such a role is severely limited or underused. These restaurants may be pressured by popular fast food culture to meet consumer demand for cheap food, or drawn to the appeal of efficiency found in standardized chain restaurants – in short, ‘Americanizing’ Mexican food. Although you could argue that these restaurants represent the perfect example of a ‘melting pot’ cuisine, in either case, culture is largely ignored or absent. But even being ‘authentic’ has its costs. Individuals, like Marissa in West Village and residents of Jackson Heights, are often dissuaded from frequenting ‘authentic’ local Mexican restaurants. They are put off by a general unease stemming from language barriers and the failure to find common ground with Mexican culture. And while other restaurants succeed in creating a comfortable, friendly environment for diners who have no familiarity with Mexican culture, these establishments are not equally accessible to all socioeconomic groups. Given such considerations, it is not surprising that many people express skepticism regarding the role of food in bringing different ethnic communities together. The initial attitude of our interviewees was frequently that food does not, in fact, feed friendliness in everyday life. Food is simply food. However, most people qualified their original statement after some thought, adding that food and restaurants could potentially act as cultural ambassadors. Dave, a recent graduate of NYU living in Jackson Heights, began his statement, “I don’t think that food is really a connecting point…” But he changed his mind after a moment, specifying, “… unless you really love it and go out your way to talk about it. I work for a cardiologist, and we have a lot of Spanish-speaking clients. About 1 out of 10 people will say that they love the food [Indian] and then we connect and have something to talk about…Yeah, it’s always nice to hear something like that.” Brian, a resident from West Village, said of restaurants, “It’s probably the best and most accessible way to interact and familiarize yourself with the culture in theory anyways – especially in place like New York. I’d rather do it at a restaurant – it’s much less intimidating than going to a cultural festival or something.” This optimism is not unfounded, as restaurants such as La Palapa prove successful in reaching out to familiarize others with Mexican culture. Furthermore, in all the restaurants we visited, an average of 70-80% of the clientele are regular diners. This strong connection with the local community implies that restaurants have much room for influencing perceptions and interactions that shape attitudes towards the Mexican community. There is potential for food to become a starting point for encountering other cultures and bridging different peoples. Food may not always remain “just food” in the future. References Interviewed Persons 1. Annie – Jackson Heights resident and English teacher 2. – Fiesta Mexicana manager in Jackson Heights 3. Shirley – downtown Brooklyn resident 4. Karen – North Park Slope resident 5. Robyn – Super Taco customer, downtown Brooklyn resident 6. – New Mexicali manager in downtown Brooklyn 7. Marissa – upper West Village resident 8. Brian – West Village resident and worker 9. Michael – West Village resident 10. Barbara Sibley – La Palapa owner in West Village THE NEW CHINATOWN: An influx of entrepreneurs and diners is adding more diverse tastes and vibrancy to the neighborhood. Craig LaBan INQUIRER RESTAURANT CRITIC. Philadelphia Inquirer [Philadelphia, Pa] 12 Jan 2014: A.1. Turn on hit highlighting for speaking browsers by selecting the Enter button Full Text • • Translate Full textTranslateUndo Translation Turn on search term navigation The original Dim Sum Garden was a definitive Chinatown dumpling dive, a no-frills storefront under the 11th Street tunnel where devotees braved bus fumes and panhandlers for xiao long bao, the broth-filled Shanghai wonders also known as "soup dumplings."By comparison, the new Dim Sum Garden, which opened on Race Street in September, is a veritable palace, all curvy lines with layered stone walls and a bright, open kitchen. The airy room, with triple the seating of the old location and a dumpling factory in the basement, is the vision of Dajuan "Sally" Song, 29, a former fashion designer and business student who persuaded her mother and partner, chef Shizhou Da, to overcome her reluctance to make the leap. "Chinatown hasn't changed much for 20 years," says Song. "But I want people to change their minds and see that Chinese people can make a fashionable place that's clean and stylish and authentic." Dim Sum Garden's metamorphosis has indeed been remarkable. But with the dragons set to descend upon Race Street in a haze of firecrackers at the end of January for the Chinese New Year, it's clear this historic neighborhood is in the midst of a much wider transformation. An impressive wave of recent development, with at least a dozen new restaurants and bars over the last two years, has turned Chinatown into one of Philadelphia's most dynamic and fast-evolving dining districts. Fueled in equal parts by a dramatic influx of Fujianese entrepreneurs and a changing demographic of diners - especially a rising population of affluent college students from northern China - the new menus go well beyond the neighborhood's traditional Cantonese fare, offering much more diverse regional cuisines. Ramen to Vietnam hoagies There are spicy Sichuan hot pots, Taiwanese meat balls, hand-pulled noodles from Lanzhou, and cumin-dusted Xi'an lamb skewers. "Bubble tea" houses and late-night karaoke bars are a telltale sign of vibrant Asian youth culture. And Chinatown's already strong collection of non-Chinese flavors continues to grow as well, from a sleek Japanese ramen counter to a slew of Vietnamese banh mi "hoagie" shops and a Korean barbecue house at 913 Race St., where Chinatown's first restaurant, Mei-Hsiang Lou, opened over a laundry in 1880. Bar-Ly, an Asian pub with 60 taps of craft beer, and Hop Sing Laundromat, one of the city's best cocktail lounges, have added nightlife lures beyond food. Two massive Night Market events, which drew 25,000 people to Chinatown's streets, are a testament to the neighborhood's growing luster in the eyes of mainstream Philadelphia. Such vibrance seemingly contradicts the foreboding new study of Chinatowns in Philadelphia, New York, and Boston by the Asian American Legal Defense and Education Fund. It detailed dramatically rising property values and warned that, if unchecked, they would threaten affordable housing for the working-class Asian immigrants who have long been these enclaves' economic engine - and ultimately would turn them into "ethnic Disneylands." And that sanitized image hardly jibes with scenes one can still witness here daily, as regulars stop for morning congee porridge at the Heung Fa Chun Sweet Shop, nibble wine-cooked duck tongues at Sakura Mandarin, and shop for black-skinned chickens and live frogs at the subterranean Asia supermarket. Recent arrivals "I don't think our Chinatown is threatened in that way anytime soon," concedes Domenic Vitiello, who teaches city planning at Penn and worked on the study. He did not dismiss the concerns of gentrification. But: "That Chinatown is in many ways more vital than ever in Philadelphia by certain measures is exactly right." While residential rents are undeniably rising, and non-Asians are moving into the neighborhood, the study also notes that restaurant spaces remain affordable, while so many are still passed down in the Chinese community. Yet, in its evolving state, Chinatown's value as a growing regional hub for modern Asian culture reflects a different Chinese-driven gentrification that results in "no less an authentic form of ethnic space," Vitiello says. Though its central location keeps it relevant for non-Asians and Asians alike, the emerging picture is less like Disney than a miniature reflection of Flushing, N.Y., the East Coast's current center for the most recently arrived Chinese immigrants. The forces shaping this surge in diverse new options reflect more subtle but equally potent shifts in the demographics both of who owns the neighborhood's restaurants, and of the Chinese diners they serve. "Don't box Chinatown in as a low-income neighborhood," says John Chin of the Philadelphia Chinatown Development Corporation. "The new generation of Chinese immigrants have money." The recent arrival of entrepreneurs from Fujian province in southeast China has marked the biggest change for a neighborhood that has been controlled since its founding by immigrants from the coastal city of Taishan in Canton. While some Fujianese have been in Philadelphia since the Joy Tsin Lau restaurant opened in 1983, the biggest wave migrated here from a post-9/11 saturated New York market in the last five to six years, says Jack Chen, the Fujian-born owner of Sakura Mandarin. "They now own close to 50 percent of the restaurants in Chinatown and have bought up to 40 percent of the properties in the past 10 years," says Chen, a Cornell graduate who has researched the neighborhood's real estate for his own investments. "Individually they don't have a lot of money, but together as a group they can buy anything." However, unlike the arrival of Vietnamese immigrants in the late 1970s, whose pho soups and lemongrass-grilled meats are now a fragrant fixture in Philadelphia, Fujianese flavors are still a virtual nonfactor. "Their cuisine is not too distinguished: Fish balls are their most well-known specialty," says Peter Kwong, author of several books on American Chinatowns and a professor of Asian American studies at Hunter College CUNY. Instead, the Fujianese, also known for their virtual monopoly on suburban buffets and takeouts in low-income urban neighborhoods, have become eager impresarios downtown for regional cuisines that are currently more popular in China than Cantonese. Chen, who this fall doubled the size of Sakura Mandarin with a stylish renovation, opened his restaurant five years ago with a Shanghainese soup dumpling focus, then added more Sichuan flavors - including spicy stir-fry bowls with mix-and-match ingredients inspired by a popular mall food court stand in Flushing. He encouraged one of his former chefs, Xinpang Wang, to branch out and cook the spicy-sour noodles of his western Chinese roots. The result was Xi'an Sizzling Woks, which opened last year. The audience to appreciate these authentic flavors has grown exponentially with the explosion of affluent Chinese students now studying at local universities - currently 1,399 at Penn alone, double the number five years ago. At Temple, there are 884 Chinese students, almost tripled in three years, and primarily coming from Beijing, Shanghai, and Sichuan. It's part of a trend reflecting major changes within China, says Kwong: "Twenty years ago anyone from mainland China needed a scholarship to come. Today China has become more wealthy and people now have the money to send their kids on their own." And their tastes are distinctly different from those of the Hong Kong-based students of the past. "Many of us from the northern part of China don't like Cantonese food and think it's a little too sweet," says Qingyi Gong, a freshman at Bryn Mawr College, where 18 percent of fall's incoming class was Chinese. "Most students like the spicy flavors of Sichuan food." Their impact on the newer restaurants in Chinatown is tangible. "More than 80 percent of my customers are students," says Michael San Fai Ng, a Hong Kong native of Fujianese descent who sold his two take-out restaurants in North Philadelphia and now serves Shanghainese and Sichuan food at his two Chinatown restaurants, Red Kings and Red Kings 2. "Walking down the street here 10 years ago, everybody spoke Cantonese," he said. "But now I need to learn to speak Mandarin." Add in a sizable group of first-generation Asian Americans as well as nonAsian Philadelphians who have come to appreciate true Sichuan food through Han Chiang's popular mini-chain of Han Dynasties, and the audience for Chinatown's new chile heat and regional diversity is even larger. 'A new frat' The power shift behind the scenes has not always been easy for members of the old-guard Cantonese, says Warren Leung, 36, a Chinatown native and part-time resident who once lived above his parents' restaurant, the nowclosed Lakeside Chinese Deli. "My dad does not think Chinatown is doing well, but he's from Taishan, so obviously he's about his people," says Leung. "And now there's a new frat [the Fujianese] taking over." "I see so much new diversity, and I think it's exciting. When it's too homogenous we tend to become insular and selfish and we don't grow, and that very much characterized Chinatown, which was stuck in its own ways. But there's definitely a movement of fresh ideas and new blood in Chinatown now." Among the by-products, aside from changing menus, has been a greater emphasis on stylish decor to attract the moneyed new generation, supplanting the Formica table "hole-in-the-wall" clichs that long defined Chinatown's spaces. Among the dingiest was the old Dim Sum Garden. The new version, Leung says, "has become the go-to spot for young professionals." Dim Sum Garden's Sally Song could not be more thrilled. "Shanghai is such a pretty place," she said. "I just wanted people to see what Shanghai looks like." claban@phillynews.com 215-854-2682 @CraigLaBan www.inquirer.com/craiglaban Credit: By Craig LaBan INQUIRER RESTAURANT CRITIC Illustration Patrons dining at a late lunch at the new Dim Sum Garden on Race Street, which opened in September. Its metamorphosis also reflects the changes in Chinatown as a whole. DAVID MAIALETTI / Staff Photographer At Dim Sum Garden, chef Shizhou Da makes soup dumplings. A Chinatown native says the restaurant has become "the go-to spot for young professionals." DAVID MAIALETTI / Staff Photographer At the Heung Fa Chun Sweet Shop, where regulars can stop by for morning congee porridge, a shop worker makes sticky rice bundles. DAVID MAIALETTI / Staff Photographer Michael San Fai Ng, a Hong Kong native, shows the karaoke set-up at his Red Kings 2. Everyone used to speak Cantonese in Chinatown, he said. "Now I need to learn to speak Mandarin." DAVID MAIALIETTI / Staff Photographer Hop Sing Laundromat, a top city cocktail lounge. MICHAEL S. WIRTZ / Staff Photographer The Chinese Friendship Gate offers a welcome to Chinatown, an area being transformed with new restaurants and bars. While a study warns Chinatowns are at risk of becoming "ethnic Disneylands," Philadelphia's joins old and new. MICHAEL BRYANT / Staff Photographer
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