Culinary Racism
December 3rd, 2009 | 
Author: Culinary Racism is COMPLETELY WRONG!
What in the world is “Culinary Racism”?!?! Well, I’m gonna tell ya what it is, and it happens each and every day all over this world. . . And it needs to STOP!
Culinary Racism says that since I have no “Italian Blood” in me, I couldn’t possibly make a truly authentic Bolognaise sauce and pasta. Culinary Racism says because my ancestors don’t come from Poland, I couldn’t possibly whip up a killer batch of Pierogies. Culinary Racism says, that somehow, our DNA has an ethnic cooking code of some sort and you should not attempt cooking outside your ethnicity because you will fail.
I hear it all the time on the food network. Last night Bobby Flay was Throwing Down with some Guido in Las Vegas on a 7 fish Christmas dinner. Some Italian tradition wrapped around 7 different fish dishes. And the guy he was going up against was certain he would win because Bobby was Irish. All of Bobby’s skill, training, and experience would NOT come into play because he didn’t have Italian roots! HELLO? Bobby Flays NOT Irish, and neither are you! You’re BOTH Americans! What the hell is wrong with being simply American!? What’s with all this hyphenated American B.S.
One of our guest at Thanksgiving dinner brought up how awesome her Sauerbratten and Bratwurst was because she is “German”.
I asked her “Really, what part of Germany did you grow up in?”
“Oh, I didn’t grow up there. . .” she says.
“Well what part do you like to visit when you’re there?” I pressed.
“Well, I’ve never been there, but. . .” she said with eye brows getting mean.
“But you’re claiming you’re ’German’, how do you figure you’re German? Sprechen Sie Deutsch? (do you speak German)” I pushed. (Yeah, I was picking a fight.) And a nasty look from my sister told me to “knock it off!”, so I stopped.
Culinary Racism is alive and well here in the United States, it’s regional. I couldn’t possibly do justice to BBQ because I don’t have a hillbilly accent. My New England Clam Chowder wouldn’t stand up to the scrutiny of New Englanders because I call it “Chowder” instead of “Chowda”. And my Chili just wouldn’t cut the mustard because I grew up in Indiana.
It’s complete HOG WASH I tell ya. Cooking a great AUTHENTIC ethnic meal has nothing what so ever to do with your blood line. It has to do with your culinary skills and how well you can follow directions, aka “a recipe”. Next time somebody tosses this myth in your face, recognize it for exactly that (a myth), and call them a Culinary Racist. Be proud of your American roots people, and STOP with all this hyphenation crap! You’re an American, and you can cook ANYTHING you set your mind to – and it will be AWESOME!
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nice article, very resourceful. I like it a lot. I come acoss your blog by MSN search engine. I could visit your site daily and recommend it to my gangs. Please keep it fresh. Keep on the good work. – A sweet girl
Go get ‘em, bro. I agree. I happen to cook the very best Sweet and Sour Pork I have ever had anywhere (which includes Hong Kong, Singapore, and Chinatowns in N.Y. San Francisco, and Toronto). When I was stationed in Okinawa, I took an oriental cooking class from the wife of one of the Marine Sgts. in my unit. She had written her own little cookbook and we worked our way through it and by the end of that class I was pretty familiar with the techniques and spicing of many Asian cuisines. Over the years I’ve made a few tweeks of my own, but I still turn to that tattered, little paperbound cookbook of hers more often than any of my other ones. I don’t have a bit of Asian blood, but I sure like their food and I’d put my specialties up against anyone native to the region.
YEAH! My brothers Sweet n Sour Pork is MY recipe too. One of the first gourmet meals I ever learned. He had just come home from Okinawa on leave, I must have been 16 or 17. When I was 25, courting my soon to be wife, she was showing me off to her family – and I was showing off my cooking skills to impress them even further than my good looks and charming personality already had . . . (insert chirping of cricket here). . YEAH, ketchup. I sat directly across from her and watched with my mouth hanging wide open. I’d cooked for her before of course, but never Sweet & Sour Pork. The whole family was talking away as we dished up our food. And everybody got quiet for a few seconds when they noticed I was staring in horror at what Debbie was doing to my Gourmet Sweet & Sour Pork – Not The Crap You Get In American Restaurants Traditional SWEET AND SOUR PORK ! ! !
As you know if you’ve read my Persimmon Pudding story, my mother-in-law is a world class cook, she was checking me out. Sweet & Sour Pork is one of there favorites to order when eating out. She was indeed impressed with my cooking. They all were impressed when we sat down to eat and they tasted it! And then something v e r y strange happened.
Everybody was prepping their plates with rice before they piled on the S&S Pork. My finance’ lays down a thin bed of rice, a slice of American cheese, another thin layer of rice, then several spoon fulls of S&S Pork. . . and topped it all off with ketchup. . . .
Look, I got no problem with somebody tossin’ salt & pepper on something I cook for them. Heck, salt and pepper shakers are on the tables of the finest restaurants on the globe. Hey a little sauce de juir of what ever – no problem. Hey, I love ketchup. . . but come on. I believe I said something like “W.T.F. . . ” and it went on from there. Debbie’s dad was in hysterics. (this is still one of his favorite stories to tell about his daughter). Debbie’s explanation was simple. “Hey, I always eat my Sweet and Sour Pork like this! What’s the big deal?!”
I’m happy to say that my wife Debbie has since seen the errors of her ways and shudders when she thinks of that night and her nasty ketchup habits of long ago. (I got a little queasy writing that story for you all).
In agree 100%, Harry! You tell em!