I am going to be “that kid” right
now: I really, really like Asian food. Not too be politically incorrect, but
this is how I group any type of food that comes from Asia. Over the past
decade, I have been exposed to all sorts of oriental dishes – both authentic
and Americanized – enjoying almost everything I have tasted. There is nothing more delicious than a big
ol’ plate of fried rice, some egg rolls, and egg drop soup. I’m all for sushi,
Korean BBQ, spring rolls, dumplings, and the list can goes on. I have had some
pretty traditional Asian meals growing up with a few close friends, one who was
Japanese and one who was Korean, who would invite me over for meals. The summer
after my freshman year I also had the opportunity to travel to Korea to visit
the one friend for three weeks, being able to experience a whole new level of
Korean and other various Asian cuisines.
Even though
I am so lucky to have had these experiences and have a varied palate, at the
end of the day, nothing beats my families cooking. My mom’s crisp apple pie,
goulash, and salsa, or my grandma’s banana bread, potpie, and homemade
strawberry shortcakes will always be chosen over bibimbap, even if it is
homemade.
At the end of “Stealing Buddha’s
Dinner,” Bich comes to realize that the “realness” she had been searching for
throughout her childhood was the life that she had in her own house. Even
though she may not have had what all her seemingly “perfect” American friends
had, she had something unique to her own culture and life. “In truth,
everything that was real lay right in front of me” which to me shows that she
was finally came to terms with her childhood (247). That is what growing up is
all about, coming to accept yourself as you are.
Not only do I think this change in
perspective had to do with Bich maturing with age, but also with her trip to
Vietnam. For years I have wanted to visit the countries of my ancestors to see
where I have come from. There is something about being in that authentic
atmosphere that makes one appreciate their heritage. I’m sure there are many
people who may not agree with me just based on their history, but in my
experience, as people get older, the come to truly value who they are and where
the come from.
By also learning what it was like
to come to America as a refugee from her father and other relative’s
perspective having visited Vietnam, I believe that Bich recognized how the
foods that were cooked in her household, weren’t just food, but a way of life
that her family was trying to recreate in a different place. Home is a place
where you can be yourself and none of her family wanted to live in a place that
they felt uncomfortable or awkward. That is why there was such an emphasis on
keeping both the Vietnam and Mexican culture alive.
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