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).
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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.
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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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