Preface
I grew up eating a diverse variety of food, not only due to my biracial upbringing but also thanks to the area where I grew up. Though my parents came down here from New York for employment and a (then) much cheaper cost of living, they also brought me into a vast cultural diaspora and the cradle of American gastronomy—the South.
No, I am not a “the South will rise again” Southerner. However, when I’m not bitching about the shitty infrastructure, the influx of “Instagram restaurants,” $40 parking, wanting to kill myself on I-85, and the countless other things I love to complain about, I am actually happy to be from here. Seriously, I can’t imagine growing up anywhere else.
I grew up alongside a myriad of ethnicities, nationalities, religions, and races. In school, we all joked, laughed, and messed around—still, filled with ignorance. However, when I entered the workforce, and especially after I graduated, I noticed minority infighting I had never experienced before. It is something that deeply shocked me and still makes my stomach churn to this day. Why this embitterment over solidarity?
I am deeply grateful I had the knowledge, experience, and friendships to know many of the prejudiced stereotypes I’ve heard were lies and/or more complex than the person spewing that bullshit realizes. I thought about what I had, and what others may have lacked that prevented them from experiencing different cultures. I thought about growing up amongst my friends, and what made me learn and appreciate other ways of life. What really brought me the most joy was being fully immersed in their culture—when I got to enter their households to experience their unique customs, smell and eat their food, hear their language, and see their point of view.
Nothing will top the excitement of seeing their family prepare a dish you’ve never heard of, and the air fills with unfamiliar, fragrant aromas. Sometimes fear was at the bottom of my stomach… “What if I don’t like it?” I’ve found that most people appreciate it when you’re willing to try something that holds deep meaning for them—something they grew up with and ate as a child. Many of those dishes I loved and still think about to this day, and that was my honest introduction to truly appreciating a heritage that was not my own.
Why Does This Even Exist?
I want to inspire others to go out there, try new things, and experience different cultures. I will do my best to provide not only a review of the place and the dishes I eat, but to give a background on the country in which it originates and, if possible, about some of the dishes as well. I’d also like to interview the owners or workers of some of the establishments to provide more perspective on their heritage and what these dishes mean to them. I may throw in a few non-restaurant businesses as well.
Above all, I wanted this blog to have my unfiltered, real opinions of places. There is nothing I hate more than an “Instagram restaurant.” I firmly believe that all places like that should be wiped off the earth. They are shrines to overpriced mediocrity, served under neon signs and fake moss walls. The food looks great on camera but it tastes like they blew the budget on the mood lighting and forgot to hire the chef. I remember when the South was all about good, cheap food… what happened? Especially in these trying times, you really want to spend your money wisely. This is why another segment I’ll be doing is seeing if a restaurant is good or a gimmick—sometimes you’ll be surprised. Instead, you can put your money into a better place and get a much better meal.
It’s Gonna Take a Lot More Than Food to Bring Us Together
I know! As much as I’d love to sing “Kumbaya” with the whole city of Atlanta while eating a collective seafood boil, I know it’s not realistic or physically possible. However, eating different cultural foods can be a gateway to learning about and appreciating other cultures.
For instance, the beloved bánh mì—if you’re unfamiliar, it’s a Vietnamese sandwich that consists of savory meat (typically roasted pork or pork sausage) with fresh, crunchy vegetables like cilantro, carrot, cucumber, and pickled daikon laid out on a short baguette. It is a wildly addicting sandwich with a rich history of celebrating the end of French colonialism in their country.
The Vietnamese were first introduced to the baguette and other baked goods when France began to colonize in the 1860s. Since they couldn’t get wheat to grow, they imported the bread, but only the French could afford it. Only after the French defeat at Dien Bien Phu in 1954 (almost 100 years later!) were the Vietnamese able to experiment with the, now much cheaper, French goods. After the Fall of Saigon in 1975, when people fled the country, they brought their food and culture with them.
As you can see, though it is “just a sandwich,” there is such an extensive history attached to it, and this rings true for many dishes around the world. Out of so much struggle, colonialism, and poverty, many treasured dishes were birthed. Taking the time to appreciate things like this may help us understand each other in more depth—it is easy to villainize what you don’t understand, so getting out there and exploring is the first step.
So, yes, I am going to review dishes… but it’s always a little more than “just” food.
I hope you guys will enjoy it.
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