Apr 14th, 2023 Friday Sunny
When I was planning the trip to New Orleans, I expected to enjoy many authentic Cajun/Creole food, such as etouffee, jambalaya, po’ boy, and gumbo, the dishes always associated with this city. Sure enough, I did not miss any one of them. Yet I am not one to be content with eating the same food for multiple days in a row – I want to try something else, preferably something interesting but not necessarily strong-flavored.
That is how we encountered mochinut and Japanese-style crepes. Mochinut is doughnut made with rice flour, a marriage between American donuts and Japanese mochi; whereas Japanese-style crepes are adapted from French crepes, made gluten free and extra soft by using rice flour, and designed to be hand-held like a giant ice cream cone. Both foods did not exist in their “parent” culture, until the global migration brought people with diverse backgrounds together. Ideas were exchanged, new inspirations found, and a ‘fusion’ food was born.
If you look around the world today, you may see countless examples of fusion food – some may not advertise themselves as such, e.g. Chinese American food – and you may come to appreciate the gourmet adventures the intermingling of cultures have enabled. Even some cuisine that has made its own name, e.g. Cajun food, is the result of borrowing cooking techniques (French roux), seasonings (French mirepoix, Spanish paprika), and ingredients (crawfish, okra) from several cultures. It is this openness to other cultural influences and the tolerance of incorporating a variety of elements from separate origins that allow us to savor many rich and memorable foods today.
I used to have a strong objection against fusion food, especially foods that claim an origin from, while in reality is never present in, my own heritage culture.
This feeling of abhorrence was intensified when I first arrived in this country. After a few days of excitement, my stomach was craving something familiar, so I walked into a “Chinese” restaurant, hoping to find some common dishes, only to be shocked by names such as general tso’s chicken, peppered beef, and egg fo young. I tried my best to decipher what these dishes would be called in my home culture so I could picture what they were like, but in vain. Out of despair, I ordered egg fo young – to be honest, it was not bad, and the portion was super generous (clearly enough for two meals). Nevertheless, I was disappointed that this seemingly “Chinese” dish did not remind me of anything from home.
While I was eating, a couple of American students came in, ordering two general tso’s chicken lunch combos. One of them was telling the other, “this is the BEST Chinese food ever!” The comment enraged me. This? “Chinese” food?! I felt angry that such food is viewed, by many Americans, as the representation of food from my heritage culture, however little resemblance there may be.
Later, as I learned more about the history of Chinese American food, I took on a new perspective. This cuisine was the early immigrants’ way to maintain connections to their homeland while seeking a foothold in foreign soil. Their efforts were respectful, and the popularity of this cuisine is surely a successful story of fusion food. Besides, I start to like some of these fusion food, e.g. Singapore rice noodle, one of my go-to dishes if no other food options were around. 😛
I realize that comparing fusion food to the original food from one culture is not really doing its justice, because they are two distinct cuisines, even though they may share some similarity. As long as the fusion food does not pretend to be the image of its “parent” cuisine, I am perfectly happy for some novel taste and a bit of ethnic and historical journey.