Wanderer’s Heritage

I pulled into the plaza and parked my car in front of one of the stores, then turned off the ignition and disconnected my phone from the AUX cable. I realized what I was wearing before I opened the car door; I considered putting my hooded sweatshirt back on, or perhaps my faux leather jacket with the embroidery on the back, but realized it was futile to cover up when I’d still be expressing my interests one way or another. So I decided not to don my Pokemon hoodie, or the faux leather jacket that was styled like a Japanese souvenir jacket (or sukejan), and instead just walked into the Asian grocery store wearing jeans and a shirt for J-Rock Vault (a subscription box service which lasted about a year, and introduced recipients to up-and-coming Japanese rock acts).

I walked up and down the four aisles, picking up ingredients I needed to make dango with the boyfriend, but I also spotted a few other items of interest. We decided to make dango together because he’s been playing Monster Hunter Rise quite a bit lately, and we were curious about how the snack made from rice flour would taste. This past weekend, we used the rest of the box of Mochiko, glutinous rice flour, to make chocolate mochi.

I’m a little more daring than he is when it comes to Asian grocery stores, as he really hasn’t set foot into one before. I was there once, as I can remember seeing Han’s so many times before I moved out of Syracuse the first time, but I was too intimidated to see if they actually had the ingredients I needed when I was trying to make some of the recipes in the Manga Cookbook. At the time, I did the best I could with whatever I could find in Wegmans, which was and still is rather limited in its international (and specifically Asian) section. It wasn’t until the ex-fiance showed me Mitsuwa Marketplace in Edgewater, NJ that I became less intimidated, though he created a monster that he couldn’t control because it unlocked a happier time in my life and I got back into my love of Japan and all.

Just thinking about that, about my desire to try to go to Japan when that relationship was ending and my inheritance was running out,… I had a purpose, a reason to keep going in life, I had something to work towards. When it was just me and the cat in the apartment in Syracuse, and I realized that the debts I had accrued were going to be paid off within the year (assuming nothing bad happened to then add to my debts), I was thrilled, because it meant I could turn around and save money to go to Japan. And then I met the current boyfriend, but I do also have enough saved up to fly to Japan, so my life is still on the up-and-up.

The boyfriend and I are both of Polish heritage, in one way or another, but neither of us really know about Polish culture. I know about pierogies and kielbasa, but if I hadn’t been told they were Polish foods, I would think they were as American as tacos and spaghetti, also assuming I didn’t know better about tacos being based on Mexican food and spaghetti being an Italian thing. Just the same, if I hadn’t been taught that some of the English words I commonly use were based on German or French words, I’d just assume that English is English.

That being said, when the announcement of an America First caucus was making news, I had to roll my eyes and see what our representatives were trying to start. The caucus was in support of “Anglo-Saxon customs,” and my first instinct was to read between those lines to see they meant “white” and “Christian.”

When I was in school, I learned that America was a melting pot of different people and cultures. As I got older, I started to realize that the only things that were truly American were… probably the worst things, like sugary food and anything that would induce a heart attack, violence and warmongering, so on and so forth.

The best things in this country were things that came from other places, things that were added to our culture by the immigrants who brought them here. American Chinese food probably isn’t the healthiest, but it’s popular enough that people crave things like fried rice and crab rangoon, plus there’s usually a Chinese food place open when other places are closed for Christian holidays like Christmas and Easter. Even though there’s a lot of Americans who are bothered by people crossing the border from Mexico, they sure enjoy tacos well enough to set aside one day in the week for having them. And it’s not just food; a ton of black people were forced into ships and dragged over here to labor in the fields, and they became responsible for a lot of the music that we can’t live without these days, not to mention the other arts like acting… oh, and sciences… and innovations in general…

If this country went back to “Anglo-Saxon” customs, what would it mean?

I’m not sure if we would be ruled by a king; that seems like a major change from having a president, though the last guy we had in office did want to be treated as if he was the ruler of the land and not the one who represents the will of all Americans. That would also be anti-American, to have a king or to take such a title, because our founding fathers were against anything that tied us to England or would make us anything like them.

As for religion, even though I know that many Republicans would insist that we are, or should be, a Christian nation, it’s one thing that shouldn’t come to pass. Once again, our founding fathers wanted the separation of church and state. Also, the Anglo-Saxons weren’t originally characterized by Christianity, it was something they adopted later on; they were originally pagans. So if this country’s culture was retconned and rewritten to be Anglo-Saxon, they would have to allow Wiccans, witches, druids, and other pagan sects. Don’t forget that the “generic, non-Christian” Christmas decorations are based on Yule, and Easter is rooted in Ostara, so there really is no escaping the paganism.

One thing I read about Anglo-Saxon life was that they typically were people with blonde hair and blue eyes, and as innocent as that seems, it was actually the scariest part. In the early to mid-20th century, there was a horrific event happening in Europe, where many people lost their lives. There was, however, one kind of person who would be spared from the cruel atrocities which took place, and that kind of person would be blonde-haired and blue-eyed. And yes, I’m referring to the Holocaust, where many Jews, homosexuals, roma, and other such undesirable people were rounded up and sent to places where numerous unspeakable acts took place. During the same period, America had rounded up its Japanese immigrants and anyone suspected to be Japanese because of the attacks on Pearl Harbor, because they were afraid of all Japanese people.

If this country goes to an Anglo-Saxon way of life, I’ll lose my Asian grocery stores, at the very least. Will I be allowed to have my Sony PlayStation and my Nintendo Switch? Will I be allowed to learn Japanese? Can I watch my K-dramas on occasion? Will the guac cost extra, or will I be fined for having tacos at all?

Will my last vote, the last time I submit a ballot, be to vote for the king who’ll rule over us all?

Or will I take my savings, which is just enough for a plane ticket, and be the ancestor who comes to a country with barely enough money for a meal and only the clothes on her back? All right, it wouldn’t be like that; the boyfriend would be by my side, as he’s the only one I intend to swear fealty towards, and together we would choose where to call home, we would choose what country we’ll say we’re from. It’s already part of my family history, as my last name is Lithuanian, but my Dad’s family came from Poland because they migrated there, and my Mom insisted that I refer to myself as being American because all my ancestors basically migrated here.

In other words, it’s in my history to be whatever I choose, and carry on whatever heritage I decide upon.

Fresh Off The Boat

It’s been a month since I made the grocery run where, as I was loading my bags into my car, I heard another car playing “Mo Money Mo Problems” as it pulled in to park. I complimented the guy for playing it, because it was a blast from the past for me. After I got into my car, I opened up Spotify and began looking for that song by Biggie, Diddy and Mase. I added a few others as well, like the rock remix to “It’s All About The Benjamins” and “Hypnotize.”

Around this time, as I was catching up on watching Fresh Off The Boat on Hulu, there was an episode that played some Busta Rhymes in the background. Man, that took me back! I wasn’t into rap and hip-hop as much as my brother was when we were in high school, but there were a few songs that just kind of stuck with me, and I’ve added them on Spotify.

After I finished reading the Crazy Rich Asians trilogy, I didn’t have much else to read that was in the apartment, so I finally cracked open the Sailor Moon manga I’ve been meaning to get to, followed by a re-read of the volumes of The Wallflower manga I still have. But manga goes quickly, as I can go cover-to-cover in about an hour if I’m not distracted, or I can read two volumes at work if the call flow is moderately busy.

I needed a book with words, and quickly! So the same day I stopped to the storage unit and grabbed two of my bags of books, I went on Amazon and poked around for more books! More books! “Hey, do you want to try Amazon Prime for a week?” Yeah, sure, let’s get my books here even faster! More books! So I ordered the next volume of Maid-sama so I can continue with that series (I’ve already watched all of the anime… Hulu of course), Maison Ikkoku volume 1 as recommended by my friend in Japan before he and I had a disagreement and have stopped talking to each other for now, and Eddie Huang’s Fresh Off The Boat.

Two days later, I was worried because the package that was supposedly delivered was not at the mailbox, or at the main door, but some unknown person of infinite kindness and awesomeness brought it in and left it at the door of my apartment.

The next day, I put my Wallflower binge on hold, and I’ve spent the last week reading Fresh Off The Boat. I just finished today, and I’ve been wanting to talk about it, but I urged myself to finish reading first so here we are.

First off, I’m not going to write a review. I’ve never written reviews on here, I’ve not tried to write reviews, I have always wanted to express what I was thinking or feeling in regards to whatever I was consuming, whether it was food or entertainment. Besides, there are enough reviews, so it doesn’t need one more. It needs more people to say how the book affected them, so here goes nothing.

As I’ve stated, I watch the show Fresh Off The Boat, which is based on the book about Eddie’s life growing up in Orlando. However, the show has evolved into a family sitcom where each of the characters have been typecast in some way. If you think you’re going to get feel-good stories about growing up Chinese, because that’s how the show plays out, have I got an awakening for you. I don’t recall an episode where Eddie changes schools almost every year because he got into fights after the other kids made fun of him for being Chinese, and that’s just one example.

As Eddie finds himself through food and hustling various types of merchandise, you learn about how proud he is of his Chinese upbringing and of the culture, even if it’s not as obvious because he’s referencing hip-hop music and urban culture. For someone like me, I can’t help but be proud for him that he has that. Even for me being half Polish-American with a Lithuanian last name, the most Polish culture I’ve had in the house comes down to Hillshire Farms kielbasa, frozen pirogues, Polish jokes that my Dad embraced (all those little gags that were contrary to the intelligence my Dad actually had), and of course the word dupa.

But even if I say that the country that makes up the most of my heritage has a culture I haven’t been raised to embrace, if I say that’s been pushed aside for the sake of my ancestors trying to just become more American, then he’s one up on me for being able to retain his heritage in that respect. But that brings me to another thought, which is that he mentioned kind of being a clean slate, of not being forced to be any one thing. Like, he didn’t open the restaurant Baohaus because that’s what Chinese people do is open and run restaurants and that’s what his father did. He opened Baohaus as a platform, to be a voice for Asian culture, but at the same time express his own passions.

I’ve been watching Huang’s World before work, then reading Fresh Off The Boat while on the clock, which I recommend to anyone. No, not just anyone who watches the show Fresh Off The Boat, or anything like that. I recommend anyone and everyone to pick up the book and read it, and to watch Huang’s World (it’s on Hulu as well) when they’re not reading. You get to see his parents and his brother Evan, you hear him talk about beef noodle soup and how to make it, you get to see the food court in Taiwan where the six different beef noodle soup vendors are grouped together,… you really get a visual idea of what you’re reading about.

One thing in the book that I didn’t even have to imagine was when he mentioned my own backyard. Literally, he mentioned how he had applied to Syracuse University because he wanted to go into sports broadcasting. His father talked him out of it, telling him that ESPN already had an Asian sportscaster, and even if they didn’t, they wouldn’t go for someone like him. After that, he ended up going to Pittsburgh for college for a bit, and enjoying the fact that he was in a food city. Eddie, if you end up reading this, I don’t know if you believe in fate or what, but that was fate pulling you in that direction. Syracuse, despite having the annual event Taste Of Syracuse in June and a college campus with the usual style of eateries that you’d expect,… Syracuse is not really known for food. We also have an Asian population of 4 percent for the whole county, so authentic Chinese restaurants are harder to come by.

Also, I had a similar moment in my life, where I mentioned wanting to be a singer so my Dad told me to join the church choir. Apparently I can’t be the next Mama Cass, and not having the last name of Wilson doesn’t help, either (pick one, Carnie Wilson of Wilson Phillips, or Ann Wilson of Heart). Point being, there have been singers with my body type, so it comes down to talent.

Overall, I’d say if I learned one thing from the book, it’s that you should keep doing what you’re compelled to do until something clicks. No Pete, I know you’re against serendipity, and that’s not really what I meant. With everything Eddie did, he had a bit of success. He might have lost on the Food Network competition, but a lot of people complimented him for things he said and what he was going for, and that encouraged him to pursue the restaurant. Before that,… there was playing football, getting a letter to the editor published as an opinion piece as if he were an actual journalist, so many things that weren’t completely striking out in life.

So then, what’s next for me? I mean, I don’t have my parents to tell me I shouldn’t take a chance at something, so I’m left with my inner monologue to do that for me. Just the same, I don’t have them around to tell me they’re proud of me if I happen to succeed, so at best, I’ll have to honor their memory when I’m writing up my acknowledgements. The only culture I have to preserve is American culture, which has become like my dessert for this evening: melted and mixed together and in a form that people will consume anyway though some will complain that it’s not in any way that it should be. Ah, my poor, neglected ice cream is no longer cold, nor does it have three distinct flavors anymore.

But maybe I’m a clean slate, I really can be who I want to be. While Japanese culture has interested me, I’ve realized that there are parts of myself that I might not be able to change to conform to their culture. But… there are other countries, other cultures out there. Even if I’m not meant for any of them except here in America, I’m still fascinated to learn. Besides, Eddie clings to his Chinese and Taiwanese heritage and is passionate about preserving that for future generations. Me? I’m passionate about all cultures being preserved and not being Americanized or otherwise “westernized.” I’m not the. “I’m in your country, you should speak English for my sake/you’re in my country, you should learn English for my sake” type of person. There is a reason I’ve been trying to learn Japanese, why I started to learn Tagalog, and that’s because I would rather try to bridge the communication gap mutually than to expect someone’s secondary language to be enough to understand what I’m saying with my primary language.

Next stop: I’m taking a trip to Baohaus one of these weekends. I’m itching to go into NYC again, hang out with Pete in Queens, maybe line up a few other stops as well. I’m not driving four hours to spend $10 on bao at a restaurant owned by the author of the book I just finished reading. I’ll drive four hours and get the most out of my weekend… and maybe get some bao to go. Can it be reheated, do you think? I should try it, for science and all.

Banana and Tapioca Pearls

Previously I mentioned going to the Asian grocery store and picking up a few things. I recommend that anyone who lives near a specialty grocery store should visit that store, because there’s usually something new to try that has familiar ingredients. It’s the reason why I decided to try this treat of banana and tapioca pearls in coconut milk. 

I love tapioca pudding. When I was younger, like any child in the single digits age-wise,  tapioca pudding wasn’t something I wanted to eat. My grandpa called it “frog eyes,” although it could have been called “fish eggs” just as easily despite it bearing little resemblance to caviar. Giving the pudding a silly name didn’t make it any more appetizing, but over the years I learned to enjoy the consistency of the thick, vanilla-flavored cream mixed with tiny white spheres that were a bit more firm than pasta.

When I saw the cans of tapioca treats in the Asian grocery store, I raised an eyebrow. Tapioca in coconut milk would be a different flavor from what I’m used to, and I wondered if it would be too weird or if I’d regret trying it at all. The combination of flavors sounded simple enough, even a bit tropical and exotic. With snow on the ground, I figured it was a good time to send my taste buds on a paradise vacation and hoped the rest of me would follow. I picked up a can of banana and tapioca, one can of coconut pieces and tapioca, and I started to pick up a can of sweetened bean paste and tapioca but put it back. After all, I didn’t want to go too far out of my comfort zone.

Today I tried the banana and tapioca can. I pulled off the soft plastic lid to find a spoon, so already it’s convenient to toss in with a lunch or just eat as soon as possible. The spoon folds apart and snaps together, and it’s long enough to reach the bottom of the can without having to stick any fingers inside the can as well.

After pulling back the metal pull tab and opening the can, I was greeted to a less-than-appetizing brownish-purple opaque liquid. Was it still safe to eat? The picture on the can shows pale yellow banana pieces in a white milky liquid surrounded by clear tapioca pearls. I used the spoon to stir around in the liquid, pulling the spoon out to see what kinds of bits were inside of the can. There were tapioca pearls, no doubt about that, and they were the larger pearls that are sometimes used for tapioca pudding. There were a few pieces of what looked like sliced banana, however the pieces seemed to be tinted purple and left out to turn brown and sugary. I wasn’t sure if the banana was safe to eat, but I ate it anyway and lived to write about it, so it was just oddly colored. The texture of the banana was as if it was slightly dehydrated, then rehydrated from the moisture in the coconut milk.

Overall, the consistency was about as thick as egg nog or a melted milkshake. It wasn’t thick like tapioca pudding, but this wasn’t supposed to be pudding. The pairing of coconut milk and banana was delicious, with enough sugar to balance the flavors and not be overly sweetened. The tapioca pearls added a little something to the mix, which is backwards to say because there was more tapioca than banana. By itself, tapioca in coconut milk is an interesting change from the normal flavors of tapioca pudding, but then I wouldn’t think of using banana as a topping. Together, everything tasted quite nicely, with a bit of the tropical flavor that I expected.

According to the side of the can, the treat was a product of Thailand. I haven’t had much experience with Thai food other than pad thai and curry. I don’t know of anything in Thailand that would interest me enough to visit, except if I spent a night in a hotel in Bangkok so I could make a song reference. At least I know of a few things I would be willing to eat.

Again, it’s all about familiar ingredients when it comes to food, because that’s going to be the difference between wishing you were home and wishing you could stay abroad.