I had a fantastic time at MOCA on Friday! I’m eager to read about what your individual experiences felt like. I think that some of you really absorbed the exhibit we set out to see, and others found a special interest in some of the other rooms. – I found the “living room” to be a special place along with the Banquet exhibit.
I have been thinking of the saying, “Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy” and how it intersects with our work as we research food, history, narratives, and the stories that so many people have to share.
As you reflect on the museum experience/field trip, please include a memory where the SSBS reminds you of a time with your family/friends (bonus points for this memory including the SSBS & Food). Try to remember what the guide told us about the Sour Sweet Bitter Spicy saying and its relevance to life – for us food & life & memory & travel/immigration narrative.
-Dr.B.
April 4, 2017 at 11:28 am
As I was walking around the long table, I was amazed to find many celebrities chefs that had started Chinese food chains globally in the feature. It was a great opportunity for me to learn about their experiences before starting their companies. I noticed that all the Asian cooks presented, started from the bottom and rose to the top. They learned their craft from their parents, family members or interned at a restaurant before coming up with their own plans.
I really enjoyed reading everyone’s stories, however, there was this one woman who resonated with me the entire time. The woman’s name was Biying Ni who was born in the Fuzhou, Fujian Province in China. According to the tour guide, this woman was the person who brought bags full of food to her nieces every week who worked at the museum. She would make so much food that almost the entire staff of the museum got to try it. Everyone was in love with her food that they wanted to give her a feature in the museum. After reading her story, I found out that Ni was from the same town as my parents. Both of them were Fujianese and she shared a similar memory from my family. Biying Ni stated, “Fuzhou is located at the estuary of Min River, so there were any fish in the area, therefore we ate fish every day.” Growing up, my dad told me stories about how he used to fish with his father for fish back in China. My grandfather was a fisherman and he had a family of 7. Fishing was a very cheap resource that was available to everyone, but it required hard work. As a result, my dad often went fishing with my grandfather. Ever since moving to America, he has not had the time to go fishing. But, he has said the fishing memories were what made his childhood different.
As I read the other parts of the story, Ni listed her some of her ultimate comfort foods that included Fuzhou Soup, Sweet Potato Pancakes, Fuzhou Meatball etc. In the 18 years of my life, I have never tried a single dish that she listed. I had no idea what Fuzhou Soup was or how it tasted. I then decided to take a picture and send it to my friend who also was Fujianese. I asked her if she tried these dishes and she replied, “YES.” For a second, I was disappointed and I started to wonder about these dishes. Unfortunately, my parents did not know how to make a single one. They told me to ask my grandfather, but he lives far away. My quest is to ask him to make it, the next time I visit him.
April 4, 2017 at 1:50 pm
Small, but thoughtfully constructed, the Museum of the Chinese in America was a warm experience. The concept of sour, sweet, bitter, spicy was the concept that most intrigued me in relation to the exhibit (though the narratives and beautiful ceramics to accompany those narratives were also appreciated).
I found that the theme (again, Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy) most resonated with me in the second room our group explored. The aesthetic of the wall lined with donations of Chinese chefs to the museum in addition to the items displayed under the glass was heartwarming. I especially noticed a connection within the story of the chef who donated her chef’s coat to the museum and how she was faced with a somewhat bitter challenge after the rent in the area of her restaurant was raised. She could accept no longer being able to pay her workers an ethical wage and lower their wages or close her restaurant. Her decision to close was interesting to me. If I had a chance, I would be interested in hearing her take on the situation. Her story exemplified the ups and downs established by the theme and added a new flavor to the exhibit.
SSBS didn’t have an immediate family connection for me. Though I come from a family of immigrants, I find that the narrative of my family’s “Coming to America” is standard. They came here for a chance at higher wages and quality of life. However, I can relate to the immigrants and children of immigrants in the exhibit reflecting on how they’ve brought the country of their heritage to the country they currently live in. Growing up, I often took notice of the hybrid upbringing created by being the child of immigrants in a world of the great-grandchildren of immigrants.
April 4, 2017 at 9:25 pm
Our trip to the MOCA on Friday left me with a very positive experience. Chinese food is something that I’ve never really thought much about. When it comes to eating Chinese food, I guess I’m the typical American who orders beef and broccoli with rice. Because often times the Chinese food I order is prepared so fast, I never thought that the chefs really cared about how they were preparing the food. Obviously this is different than what the Chinese would consider authentic Chinese food, because it has been very Americanized. One of the things that I very much so liked about the exhibit was that all of the chefs travelled. I was expecting the museum to only focus on traditional Chinese chefs in China, or in the US. The fact that the chefs travelled to so many places all over the world was a very nice addition to what I was expecting.
One thing in particular that I noticed and liked while reading the short passages of the chefs was that they all had their own unique story and wanted to preserve, create, learn more about their traditional food. In addition to the stories of each chef, I thought it was interesting how most of the chefs had such simple, basic ingredients as their essential ingredients (for example, salt, acid, fresh herbs, pepper, soy sauce, ginger, garlic, etc). Of course the little sculptures were nice to look at. I like how they were sculpted to represent something about the chef. I also think that the small map diagram was a helpful addition to the exhibit because it allowed us to see how far some of the chefs travelled from their homes, and how many places the chefs did travel to. I really liked the traveling component of the exhibit because it relates a lot to what we talk about in class in terms of food traveling and food mapping.
Two people that really stuck with me are Philip Chiang and Cecilia Chiang (son and mother). Cecilia was born in 1920 in China and came to the US, San Francisco in the late 1950s and opened up a restaurant. She really wanted to show Americans what real Chinese food was like. This reminded me of our class conversations about authenticity. Eventually her restaurant closed; however, her son who was born in China before she moved to the US, also came to San Francisco and opened his own chain of restaurants. Philip’s approach to his restaurant was a bit different than his mom in the sense that it was more simplified Chinese food. His father was a gourmet cook who grew up in Europe and exposed Philip to German, French, and Japanese restaurants in addition to Chinese restaurants. The story of the Chiang family really demonstrated to me how important food can be not only to one person, but to a family.
Wayne and I stayed after the tour for at least 30 more minutes just exploring everything and walking around the inside of the museum. We encountered several different cultural aspects that the museum touched upon that weren’t even related to food. There were pictures of people, who seemed to be naked, with different ethnicities and their responses to the question “where are you from?” or something like that. On some of the walls, there were plaques with different asian people, for example, Bruce Lee, and this Korean woman who was a figure skater. Wayne and I also encountered a small green couch in front of a very ancient box TV. There were so many aspects to the museum that we found so beautiful.
I also thought that it was so sweet of the chef’s to donate their special belongings to the museum to put on display. Something I talked about with the tour guide was the significance of the items that the chefs donated. I asked her if they would get them back, because the drawing that one chef’s granddaughter made for her and that she keeps in her kitchen, for example, is something that I thought was very sentimental and would personally want back if I was the chef. The tour guide said that the objects would probably be returned, but that it was obvious which chef’s took the donation seriously and which chefs didn’t. For example, donating the robe the chef wore when she first became head chef, is more symbolic of the chef and her story than the chef who donated simply just two plates from his restaurant that he never even uses.
The quote “sour, sweet, bitter, spicy” initially reminds me of food, but if I really do think deeply about it, then it does have a connotation to different aspects of my life. In terms a food, a memory that makes me think of “sour, sweet, bitter, spicy” is lunch at my high school. My high school is the most diverse high school in New York. A lot of my friends were from many different countries. I remember one time during lunch when we were discussing different foods and my Indian friend was talking about how she liked many spicy foods. Then, my Mexican friend also said how he liked many spicy foods; however, there are two different types of spicy that I didn’t know about and my Mexican and Indian friend were discussing it. My Nigerian friend also talked about some of her cultural foods and the foods she likes. I was just so appalled at how each of our tastes were so different. I think it is amazing how different tastes can bring so many people together.
April 5, 2017 at 12:36 am
When I stepped inside the building, my eyes were naturally drawn to the merchandise that were on display. I remembered that there were pencils, tape, cards, wristbands, books, shirts, and more. I was very amused by the creativity of the lines they came up with on the cards – “You’re the bun that I need,” and “Wonton in a million.” I was also intrigued by the books they had on display – from a handbook of all types of dim-sum to a collection of memoirs (“Asian American Dreams” by Helen Zia).
Our tour began in a room that is set up to look like a dining hall. There was a long table and each seat featured a short stories of different Asian chefs. A piece of pottery was paired with each short story, and the tour guide told me that they were all crafted by two artists alone. I read through some stories, but I ultimately spent my time conversing with the tour guide. I was curious as to why she chose her field of work, how she viewed the exhibit, her favorite short story, her favorite part of the exhibit, and more. Interestingly, she told me that she was interested in giving exposure to stories that are often neglected. This exhibit shines light onto the narratives of Asian chefs, and Asians are often silent in media. This exhibit gives them a voice in terms of sharing their immigrant story and their traditions from their food. She also mentioned that her favorite part of the exhibit was the very room we were standing in. She is also amused by the many stories that were collected, and told me that she had read all of them. Her favorite stories included Peter Chiang’s. One thing she hopes to do is to finish watching the recorded interviews that are constantly projected on the walls, because it is hours of footage that seems impossible to sit through at once. While she told me about the exhibit, I also responded with a thought that came to me as I read the stories. I told her how as an Asian-American myself, I had one point felt shameful of my background and tried to hide my culture, but all of these people here succeeded because they embraced and promoted their culture. I also noted that once I was more comfortable to in expressing myself as where I am from, it was easier to situate myself in any scenario.
After the first stop, we concluded our tour in a room that displayed a collection of donation from famous chefs. The one that caught my attention was the drawing that was drawn by the chef’s granddaughter. It embodied both the happiness of the grandmother and the teachings and appreciation of the granddaughter. It is something that stuck with me because I consider myself as a family-oriented person.
I checked out a little bit more of the exhibit with Asimina and we came across even more. There were cards that contained people of all age groups and their thoughts on the future of the group, there were posters that came from the Red Scare and the Vietnamese War, there was a television set from the 40s, and there were also traditional lion dance costumes and masks.
The museum is really a hidden gem in Chinatown. It was unbelievable in the amount it had to offer, and because I was Asian-American myself, it was very memorable. I hope I am able to find time to return to get the books that I mentioned before.
April 6, 2017 at 9:23 pm
Wayne, I really like how you also used the tour guide as a valuable resource to the exhibit. I think it’s very cool how she wants to devote herself to help tell the silent stories of these very many chefs. The exhibit was very enlightening in that respect and I believe it did fulfill its task in doing so. I wouldn’t have probably come across all or any of these narratives if it weren’t for this exhibit.
April 5, 2017 at 6:18 pm
I found MOCA to be very homelike, and the stories were engaging. I never knew there were exhibits dedicated to the stories of Chinese people so close to home. Having been to Chinatown numerous times, I was surprised to discover all these places I had never seen before.
If I remember correctly, there was one story about a Chinese person born and raised on Long Island, but for some reason I can’t find the details in my notes/photos. However, a few others stood out to me as well. Wilson Tang was a Chinese-American kid who grew up in Queens, like me. He made weekly trips with his family to Chinatown where he was immersed in kung fu classes and Chinese school. I had sort of a similar upbringing in the sense that I had weekly karate, piano, and Chinese classes, although I did not travel all the way to Chinatown, but rather to Long Island. He had a back-and-forth after college between the financial sector and the food industry, which again somewhat rings true with me as I am currently undecided between finance and other fields.
Others talked about how the Cultural Revolution affected how and where their families moved and developed. Anita Lo, a Detroit native who currently lives and works in New York, says her father “walked out of China during the Cultural Revolution and came to the States.” My grandma had also walked out during this time period, having a strong instinct that Mao Zedong and this Communist movement could harm her family’s basic freedoms. She took herself and her young children—my eventual mother, uncles, and aunt—to Hong Kong, where they spent the majority of their childhood before moving to the States in pursuit of opportunities and a brighter future.
As for the SSBS saying, I am reminded of a melting pot with multiple meanings behind it. On one hand, it represents, in my eyes, the blending and mixture of multiple tastes/flavors in cuisines. It also represents the mixture of different cultures and their peoples, including the various travel/immigrant narratives that they bring along with them.
April 5, 2017 at 8:07 pm
The exhibit at the MOCA boasted cultural heritage and pride. The room that showed the stories of the Chinese immigrant chefs was extremely special. My favorite part of their stories was the map showing in each and every place the chef lived in. This was important because it showed the impacts of where they lived on their recipes and food preparations. It reiterated the connection between food and homes. Another interesting part of the biographies was that each chef included their favorite dish. I found this to be really cool because it showed the ranges and complexities of Chinese food. I also loved how different each chef was from one another, even though they were all from the same country. The stories didn’t feel redundant or repetitive. Rather, each new story enlightened me with something refreshing and different. I learned something else about Chinese food and culture from each story.
I also loved the exhibit with the items each chef donated to the museum. I felt that it added an even more personal touch the theme of the exhibit. It took it a step further from the biographies and videos. The chefs added items that were ordinary things that most people would be familiar with in their own kitchens. What made this even more unique was that despite the items being so ordinary, they had personal meaning and symbolism to the chefs themselves.
Something I took out of the museum was more familiarity with Chinese food. Honestly, I have never even Chinese food. Reading and listening to these talented chefs’ recipes amazed me. I’ve never heard people describe food with such detail and complexity. I was also compelled by the heart and love they put into their food. I couldn’t believe the extent of regions they were in China. It gives Chinese food and culture a limitless range.
The exhibit reminded me of the way older members of my family talk about food and recipes with love. Seeing the chefs speak about their own food and stories immediately made me think of the older generations in my family that talk about their own food in the same way. Food isn’t just something they eat. Food is a part of their lives. Their recipes are a symbol of their culture and heritage. And sharing them with the world is vital. I personally don’t have this strong connection to food, being a third generation immigrant. Perhaps I will attain it one day. I hope to.
The tour guide explained the saying “Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy.” It is a saying that can be applied to both food and life. The chefs’ recipes are all unique and range from one another. They can be sweet, sour, bitter or spicy. Also, their lives and immigration stories range from one another. Like the adjectives “sour, sweet, bitter and spicy”, life can lead you to many different paths. These paths are all different from one another and have ups and downs. All of these chefs have different foods, traditions and stories.
April 6, 2017 at 10:51 am
First of all, I will respond to a few of my classmates’ comments. Wayne said that Asians are often silent in the media. Since this is not my cultural background, I never noticed how true this was until The Edge of Seventeen was coming out at the end of 2016. I learned that this movie is unusual because it has an Asian main character (Erwin Kim, played by Haydn Szeto) who serves not as a foil to the other protagonists, but as a key role in the film. Wayne also mentioned that at one point in his life he felt embarrassed of his culture and tried to hide it. Exploring a Chinese museum is a great opportunity to reaffirm the roots of where you come from and what is important to you in your culture. I noticed that Wayne was reading the descriptions in Chinese and learned that there are Chinese schools, and he attended one for ten years. Ironically, last semester I was talking to a Chinese guy who was in my English class and he told me he had never heard of Jewish schools – where I have studied all my life up until this year.
Asimina mentioned that her high school experience taught her a lot about diversity because her school was composed of people from so many countries. I know Wayne and Asimina went to school together, and being in a diverse college environment (unlike my tiny, white, Orthodox Jewish, middle/upper class private school), I can understand why someone would want to hide what makes them different from the dominant culture. This week, a boy in one of my classes expressed his opinion, which was based on Jewish tradition, about an ethical issue we were discussing. Even though I completely agreed with him, I was not planning to say something so controversial. However, it was a moment of real intellectual honesty for the class to hear a different opinion.
Similarly, I think it was good for our IDC class to visit the Museum of Chinese in America because we sometimes get so involved in our own cultures (either immigrant, American, or both), that we do not make time to learn about where other people are coming from and what their values are. One of my favorite moments at the museum was watching part of the interview with Danny Bowie. He grew up as an adopted Korean child of Midwestern parents and says that he remembers tasting Chinese food for the first time and falling in love with the flavors precisely because they were so different from anything else he had ever tried (think BBQ hot dogs, cheeseburgers and cornflakes). As Rachel and Asimina mentioned, a lot of us have never tried authentic Chinese food. Unlike Serena, this was one of the first times I have even been to Chinatown! The issue for me is that most kosher Chinese restaurants serve Americanized fast food – which tastes good, but based on the essential ingredients the chefs indicate that they use in their cooking (salt, acid, fresh herbs, Sichuan peppercorns, hot peppers, and green onions to name a few), this is not what I would imagine real Chinese tastes like. Interestingly, Josh informed me there is a kosher, vegetarian, Chinese restaurant in Chinatown. Although it did not work out for me to go this past Friday, I have been thinking about it ever since and would love to treat myself.
Serena said that to her “Sour Sweet Bitter Spicy” represents a melting pot of cultures and cuisines. To me, SSBS is more of a chunky vegetable soup than a melting pot. The idea being for everyone to retain their cultural heritage and pass it on to the next generation, even though the neighbors may be doing something different. The tour guide said that this is a common Chinese saying about life – sometimes it’s sour, but then things will turn sweet, at the same time as something is sweet, maybe people you love are going through a bitter time. Overall, the constant changes that happen throughout our lives keep things spicy. For me, SSBS is most applicable to family gatherings with my mom’s side of the family. She has a brother who never married and a brother with five girls (two of whom are married) and a boy. I have two brothers and a sister. Sweet is the anticipation of coming together (sometimes with extended family – cousins’ cousins and second cousins). Sour is knowing some people cannot make it (Mother’s Day is right before APs, Father’s Day right before finals, college is far and demanding, cousins have moved away). When family members are absent, it gives the gathering a different flavor, not necessarily bad. Bitter is the hard times we wear on our faces and shoulders – an uncle who is out of work or a cousin who is sick, for example – but this is sweetened by the love and connections we feel. Spicy is the fun – from the delicious meals my grandmother cooks, to the stories my grandfather tells, to the yelling at the TV screen when we watch the Superbowl. These are some of my favorite childhood memories and it’s nice to have a saying to sum them up.
April 6, 2017 at 11:20 am
The Museum of the Chinese in America was particularly important to me because it represented my own culture. It was interesting to see a modern spin to it with the artwork presented, but to be honest, I think I would have enjoyed it better without. Every time I visit an exhibit that has something to do with Chinese culture, there is always an American twist to it. In this case, each narrative had a corresponding modern art sculpture that represented the influences of their cooking. While these artworks did make the overall appearance of the exhibit beautiful, I felt as if its purpose was unnecessary to understanding the true intentions of the exhibit. In a way, it made it feel less authentic to me. It felt like the Chinese culture had to assimilate into the American world for it to be relevant. I would have loved to see the Chinese culture be praised for what it was truly.
Going through the narratives, I tried to see if I could tell the difference between the profession chefs and the “amateur” chefs. I was amazed to find that I could not distinguish between the two. Of course, some went on to open famous restaurants and franchises, but the foundation of each chef remained similar. This does make sense, since authenticity and skill do not have to go together. Rather, it is often that the nonprofessionals are more authentic. Personally, I loved the story of the aunt who brought food for her nieces every day at the museum. This definitely reminds me of my own family. My grandmothers specifically, always try to shove food down my throat and have convinced themselves that I am starving myself. If it was up to them, I would weight 150 pounds.
The concept of Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy has been familiar to me without me even realizing it. No one has ever sat me down and explain the importance of it in Chinese cooking, but I have always been aware of its presence. Chinese food is fearless when it comes to challenging the pallet. We eat very exotic foods and we waste nothing. Growing up, I always ate bitter melon, which simply just tastes bitter and that’s it. We have salted fish, salted raw crab, and even salted eggs. Since the basis of all our meals is rice, which tastes bland and flavorless, we are not afraid to eat extremely salty, sweet, sour, or bitter dishes.
The concept of SSBS reminded me of family vacations to fire island. Every summer, my family would rent a house on Fire Island and all my aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents would gather together to spend time with each other. My grandparents were always the ones cooking the meals if we were eating at a restaurant, so I would have a good amount of Chinese food on vacation. However, one f my cousins is highly allergic to half of the food out there in the world, so meal time was often difficult for her. Unable to eat seafood, nuts, and dairy products, we often had to have specific dishes just for her. The main dish we would always make for her was bitter melon. Although I did not like it, I would always make an effort to have a few bites, out of respect for my grandparents. It amazed me that the melon could taste sweet and sour at the same time, simply by the way my grandparents chose to make the dish.
April 6, 2017 at 12:54 pm
I had a great time experiencing the Museum of the Chinese in America on Friday. I thought the room with the maps and stories of each Chinese chef was so interesting. It was nice to go around to each pamphlet and compare and contrast one story to the next. Although all the chefs come from the same country, no two had the same story, however, there were still several parallels. I found myself just walking from pamphlet to pamphlet carefully analyzing each chef’s story. There was one particular story that I read that immediately made me think of one of the main ideas that we have been discussing in class. The chef (I irresponsibly forgot to take down his name) had eventually started his own Chinese restaurant in America and he specifically mentioned that he would make sure to use specific peppers that you can only get in China for a certain dish because he felt that using any other types of peppers as a substitute wouldn’t make the dish good nor the way it’s supposed to taste like. This is clearly a perfect example of our debate on “authenticity” and what makes a food “authentic”. Well at least for this Chinese chef, he felt that in order for that certain dish to be authentic, he needed that pepper all the way from China or else the dish would just simply not be the way it’s supposed to be made. Any other variation of this dish isn’t authentic to him. It’s nice to see how our discussions in Baruch take place outside the classroom!
The other section of the museum that contained all the donations from the chefs themselves was very cool. First of all I just thought that it was so selfless of these people to donate their valuable possessions that were so significant in their lives to the museum. Personally, I’d have to admit, that it would be hard for me to do something like that- to give an item away to someone else that contains so much cultural importance to my family. But anyway, one particular item that really caught my attention was a Kitchen God statue. Basically it is a statue that was placed near the stove, where he benevolently oversees the family’s activities. He is supposed to ensure delicious, healthful meals while warding off kitchen mishaps. And before the Lunar New Year, the Kitchen God is bribed with offerings of food and spirits. If there is a good report then the family can expect a year of good fortune an auspicious blessings, but if there is a bad report then punishments will be brought upon the family. One reason why I really found this Kitchen God interesting is because it represents an idea totally opposite from my Jewish faith. The Kitchen God was one of the many Gods that they had, each one with their own function and role in everyday life. However, Judaism, something that I have been strongly connected to my whole life, is a monotheistic religion- one God who is involved with all the functions and roles in our everyday life. I just thought it was interesting to learn a little bit more about the other perspective.
Of course when you first hear the quote “Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy”, you will think its simply describing food. But really it has another meaning to it that is much deeper. “Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy” can be describing food- how there are thousands upon thousands of different foods across the globe and every single one differs from the other because there are so many aspects to food. Some are sour, some are sweet, some are bitter, etc. The deeper meaning describes to us the events in our individual lives. We will always have moments of hardship and struggle, but we will also always have moments of happiness and pleasure. Some moments are “sour” and some moments are “sweet” and some moments are “bitter” etc. This quote is so valuable to me because it can be used in those dark times to remind you that this is just one of the sour moments. But it could then strengthen you by knowing that there will be sweet ones coming soon. I remember I broke my wrist two years ago from snowboarding. I was super depressed because it was my right wrist and it was limiting my everyday activities. I could’ve had the mindset that the “Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy” quote embodies- this is just one of the sour moments in life. Hopefully in the future I’ll be able to to use this quote to get me through any hard times.
April 6, 2017 at 1:53 pm
The exhibit “Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy” at the Museum of the Chinese in America shared intimate experiences about both professional and home cooks and their relationships with food. The themes of sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy resonated throughout each story.
One of the most fascinating stories I read was that of Michael Tong, as it relates to both the themes of food in New York City and the authenticity of food. He was born in 1944 in Anhui, China, and, after exploring regions like Shanghai and Hong Kong, settled in New York; he then presided over the Shun Lee group of restaurants in Midtown, known for their “experimentation in Chinese cooking in America.” He also opened the restaurant Hunam in Midtown in 1972, which, as he proclaims, was “the first Huanese restaurant in the whole country.” It was at this restaurant where he introduced General Tso’s Chicken to America.
General Tso’s Chicken has led to much debate over its authenticity as Chinese food. Because it is not a dish that is made in China, most Chinese people do not consider it to be real Chinese food. However, as Michael Tong was born in China and created the dish, it could be argued that it is true Chinese food. This also leads into a discussion on identity. General Tso’s Chicken is a Chinese-American dish, as it was created by a Chinese chef in America. However, after reading Tong’s story, I personally do consider it to be a Chinese dish, as he is using his influences and training to create it. I am certain that new dishes are created in China by Chinese chefs; although they are not traditional dishes, most would consider them to be Chinese. Why then would General Tso’s Chicken not be a Chinese dish, as it is a new food created by a Chinese chef using his background experiences?
I believe that these themes of sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy can be applied to my personal relationship with food and family. The tour guide informed us that these are not only relevant to discussions about food, but also to those about life and memory. Food plays such a central role in my family. All different experiences – corresponding to the four ideas of sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy – draw the family together over a meal. The happiest memories I have are of my family gathered around the dinner table laughing and celebrating. Birthdays, graduations, and holidays bring people together to celebrate and enjoy each other’s company. Some of the worst memories also involve food, where the family comes together to grieve the loss of a loved one. Friends and neighbors bring food as a symbol of sympathy. Lastly, warm memories of days past are also invoked by food. When we drive past my grandpa’s favorite ice cream shop, I always think of the times we spent there together, smiling and laughing, wishing for another memory just like those.
April 6, 2017 at 3:09 pm
Like most people, I was drawn to the exhibition with its beautiful sculptures and stories of chinese cooks. I think what initially attracted me to the exhibit was the layout of the exhibit where the long table and the rotating centers allowed people to circle the exhibit and read the stories while looking at sculptural representation of works. However, what kept me in the room was reading the stories of the different chinese cooks and their food history. The stories of the various chef from Asian origin really changed my perspective of the chinese food culture. I had never known that there were so many cuisines from the chinese culture that were so varied and unique to their region. Furthermore, I loved reading the stories of all the chef; my favorite story was of Doniyor Sobitov, the chef of the restaurant that I actually visited for my project. He immigrated to the United States from uzbekistan and brought is kashgar culture to the united states with him in the form of his restaurant so that he will always have a piece of home. When I visited his restaurant, I felt that what he said in is story at MOCA about embracing his uzbek culture true because upon entering the restaurant my eyes were completely engulfed by uzbeki art, decoration pieces, and music, and decor. I felt like I was transported to Uzbekistan through the embracement of uzbek culture in the restaurant.
I had a hard time applying sour, sweet, bitter spicy to my life because I felt that I could not capture this phrase in one instance of my life until last night when my mom cooked a dish called haleem. I feel like experience of tasting haleem at the dinner table completely defined Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy figuratively and literally. Haleem is such a complex dish that in one bite you can not only taste all the flavors but also the story of the work that went into the dish. I not only tasted the complex flavors that made this dish so spicy that I had to have a glass of water nearby the whole time and strangely sweet that I kept eating the dish, but also the arduous hours of kneading the ingredients that were made pleasurable as I bonded over with my mom as we made the dish together. The saying Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy applied to that moment at the dinner table last night as just one meal showed the ups and downs of life’s moments.
April 6, 2017 at 4:14 pm
Upon my arrival to the MOCA, I was impressed with how modern and sleek the building itself was. I was expecting a much smaller and more outdated museum. To me the Banquet room, was truly something special. The idea of having dishes made into ceramics on a table gave a sense of culture and togetherness with everyone walking and sitting around when observing the dishes. I also thought the maps that tracked the movements along with the stories of the people were very insightful and eye-opening. To think that a top chef to a diplomat would go and spend his cooking career riding greyhound buses and preparing meals was astonishing in my eyes. This exhibit reminded me of an exhibit from MOMA last year called the Mapping Journey Project. It was several big LCD displays with interactive maps on them that tracked the journeys of 12 different Mediterranean refugees and told their stories. Both these exhibits show how difficult and different movement is for people and also makes us the audience respect them more for all that they have gone through.
I also really enjoyed the room that displayed a special item from each chef’s collection. My favorite would have to be the drawing of the grandmother that her nieces made for her. It resonated with me because as a small child my grandma would cook in the household as well, and even though she was not a professional chef, to me her dishes were some of my favorite of the Russian/Ukrainian cuisine. In the Banquet room itself, one of my favorite parts was the exhibit on Wilson Tang. Mr. Tang is the current owner of Nam Wah Tea Parlor in Chinatown. Nam Wah is actually one of my favorite places to go with friends when I am in the city. Aside from their outstanding meals, I love their friendly atmosphere that is filled with families and groups enjoying meals together. With this in mind I was rather surprised to find out that until this decade, Nam Wah was a bachelor’s parlor. Our guide explained to me that when Chinatown first came to be, it was predominately male and Nam Wah would have individual booths that men would come and eat, not socialize like today. When Wilson took over the restaurant from his uncle Wally, he wanted to change the type of restaurant it was without losing its history. So he renovated it and made it more inviting to family and friends. This story makes one of my favorite restaurants even better.
Overall I was very happy that I had the opportunity to visit MOCA and I am a big fan of the saying “Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy.” This phrase literally can apply to all the amazing dishes being displayed and showing their differences but to me it struck an even deeper meaning. While all four words can be used to explain a food they are all rather different. In life there are many different ways to achieve something, such as a meal, and there are many paths to take to get to this. Much like the stories of the immigrants or preparation of their meals, “Sour, Sweet, Bitter, Spicy” does a great job in showing differences.
April 6, 2017 at 5:09 pm
I think Chinatown is a real gem in Manhattan. This trip happened to be my first time in Manhattan since the 10th grade. I love the narrow streets, the plethora of restaurants, and the real hustle and bustle that feels quite different than other parts of Manhattan. That being said, I wasn’t too fond of the trip to MOCA, I found the first room we entered, with the long table and the many narratives of people and food not at all relatable. And I really tried to connect, in one way or another, but both the stories and the food were foreign to me, and I couldn’t pretend to relate it to my own narrative or experience. Some individual stories were interesting and heartwarming, but that part of the exhibit was not cutting it for me intellectually or emotionally.
But after the scheduled tour came to an end, I was able to venture to other parts of the museum and that is what I found most enjoyable about my excursion in Chinatown, hell that was the highlight of my entire week. I stumbled on the most beautiful music I’ve heard in a while. Thought there were only two songs, I must’ve stayed there for 20 minutes listening to the songs on repeat. One song was this folksy, song from the 70’s called “A Grain of Sand-Music for the Struggle by Asians in America. The song was bursting with emotion, through both the acoustic guitar plucking and the lyrics. I will attach a YouTube link to it on the bottom. The lyrics very much connoting a battle and more than that a will for liberation, whatever that means.
Looking through my photos now, I remember also enjoying the donated artifacts from restaurants, whether it be a knife, a first menu, a plate, I felt very joyous looking through that small room, and seeing all the success stories of Asians in America. The donated pieces are testament, at least in the restaurant world, to the history of coming from their respective countries, or even not, and introducing to a new world their culture. This is something I found very powerful. And it got me thinking about the sort of revolution and how these people created for themselves a way to preserve culture as well as introduce an entirely foreign cuisine to the American market. This is the type of relentless effort that will be noticed and remembered for eternity. Because of the risks a lot of these people took, coming to a country and opening up restaurants, we are awarded with an entirely new cuisine to satisfy our taste buds: it is a positive sum game.
This reminded me in a way of the first paychecks and first bills still hanging in my grandfather’s office of the business he along with his brother and two cousins started upon coming to America. And though their jewelry business is not reflective of the Soviet culture they came from, they keep their first electric bill to show as proof of how far they have come. This, in a nutshell, is the SSBS the tour guide spoke of. The hardships of immigration, of being poor, but of also the sweet moments. Ultimately, coming to a place where you have the opportunity to succeed and live a better life.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SmFypohbEY