You Can't Sit With Us

laura ockel | unsplash

I recently read an article from Bon Appetit about oyster sauce, commanding that I use it and the reasons why. At first I was excited: It’s great to see a familiar ingredient given exposure in a publication that a lot of people read. Oyster sauce is delicious; a pantry staple for me since childhood, and yes, you should use it. But my next reaction was a bit surprising: I was angry. The article has good intentions, but it’s also written by a white man. I’m sure Alex Delany is a very nice person (but ok are we really going to take advice from someone who loves diet coke?), and I fully support that people should eat and explore different food and cuisines.

So Why so angry you ask? I am tired as hell of a white man, (once again!) teaching me about my food. Why does it take a white voice to legitimize my food? Why does a white perspective make my food delicious rather than ugly? I am an Asian woman whose hobby is food, and I am an avid reader of many food publications; I am so damn tired of seeing and hearing about my food from a white perspective. If we come from cultures in which food is so important, why are we learning to cook from Rachel Ray and Alison Roman? This just perpetuates the idea of the white savior, of white legitimacy. It perpetuates the idea that only when someone or something is reflected from a white lens, is it acceptable.

It is great when a visit from Bourdain makes boosts your restaurants’ business but I’ve been to these places. They’re good. But they’re also full of white tourists who are too scared to try the other dishes or vendors at the night market. Not me. As someone who consumes a lot of food media, I want more David Changs, Marion Grasbys and Nadiya Hussains. Can’t we find someone as smart and sassy as Ali Wong to lead those BA videos? My BIPOC friends are the ones who are usually the most passionate about food. Our hang times are centred around food and eating. Why do I not see the same representation in my media? I am sure there are a plethora of BIPOC voices waiting to teach and be heard (hello me). Also, yes pay us more or just shockers of shocks, pay us fairly! I am weary of seeing our recipes being taken, like our spices, tea and sugar were taken, only to be watered down, white washed, and passed off as one’s own. 

 There is a lot going on in the world today with protests for Black Lives Matter and against police brutality. I believe in equality and dignity for all humans. I optimistically believe that this is a time of change and a time to learn; a time to reflect on our own prejudices and weaknesses and to acknowledge where we can grow and evolve to become better humans. I also see a lot of people, brands and platforms doing this and apologizing for their past discriminating behavior. Sometimes it seems genuine and sometimes it seems contrived. Sometimes it just seems almost too little too late, defense rather than offence. And in the case of Bon Appetit it seems too much like defense. 

I guess I liked Bon Appetit; they have fun recipes and most of their people seem nice (though nice is not going to cut it). I started watching their videos Youtube and following them on Instagram last year. A lot of my friends and coworkers also love them. I am the one a bit late to board the BA train. I noticed a disquieting trend pretty quickly however - the lack of representation from Black, Asian, First Nations, Latino and Indian people - why is everyone white? Why is a white person telling me to use fish sauce and lemongrass when I already know to use these ingredients, and have been for years? Why are they passing off diluted recipes, devoid of culture and depth, as their own? Why can’t I learn or hear more from someone who has eaten this food their whole life?

I don’t think I can speak on the recent brown face scandal. Perhaps I have more forgiveness in my heart for these transgressions and I have more hope that the person has grown and evolved in that time, especially if they were quite young or uneducated. Ignorance is not an excuse for everything but I think there is room to understand that sometimes it is a case of ignorance for some people. I am not deeply offended by a costume worn so thoughtlessly one night, though you can certainly question the seemingly easy ability for a white man to put on and take off a minority identity like a costume. I am more so troubled by the fact that BA and many other food platforms continue to silence the voices of BIPOC. They did not act integrously towards their BIPOC colleagues or staff and they knew it. They rode their wave of white privilege until circumstances made them apologize. It is like an impenitent boyfriend who gets caught cheating: they are more sorry about getting caught and being called out rather than being sorry for being racist. 

This was not their first misstep. Anyone remember when Tyler Akin tried to tell Asians how to eat Pho? Rather than speaking with a Vietnamese cook about pho, they thought it a great idea to give the platform to a white, American man. This was in 2016. And instead of learning then, BA continued to march to the beat of their exploitative drum.

Homemade by me.

Home Sweet Home, Canada | PC Ravenous Ratha

I do not believe in the authenticity of their contrition and nor will I wait around for it. I think their largely white staff love food, but food culture is not woven into them like it is for a lot of BIPOC. I don’t think white people grasp this fact because so many admit to not having any culture at all. For BIPOC, food is everything for us. It is not a whimsy nor a trend to be replaced by another, exotic ingredient next season. Food, eating, and eating together is so much a part of us, we cannot tell you where culture and feeding oneself begins. Food culture is an integral part of BIPOC culture.

Perhaps I also carry the scars of my BIPOC brother and sisters who were excluded to the fringes for so long. Our food was strange and stinky - we ate rats and cats and dogs! We were bullied by white kids for our “gross” lunches of garlic rice, curry, kimchi, pancit, longanisa sausage, lemongrass, mackerel, and sushi; these are the same white kids who now as grownups scarf down kimchi because of the probiotics, and tell me I should try the toro, it’s soooo good here. Have I had pho? Try my stew, it’s really good and it has turmeric. I am not super surprised. White people have been taking from BIPOC for a long time.

This is how I feel about Alison Roman. She has admitted to having no culture, so she steals someone’s else’s culture and stew recipe and passes it off as her own, then stomps down on two women of colour. Stop it Alison, you are a Colonizer, and a mean girl, just stop taking our recipes and trying to shut us down. I do not think she is sorry, I think she is sorry her white privilege did not grant her the grace she was clearly expecting. I don’t understand why a white woman was so applauded for something a brown woman had been whipping up on a weekly basis since forever. I love Chrissy Teigen because her mom reminds me of my mom. My Asian friends echo this opinion. We like to see her cook because it’s cool to see a Thai girl who seems just like us, cooking with her mom. Cooking with her mom brings a smile to our face because it’s like our interaction with our own parents. She is not pretentious and makes cooking fun. Alison reminds me of the frail, white girls I knew growing up, brimming with privilege and arrogance, and so grossed out at the smells of curry and lemongrass, the same women who now talk extol the virtues of miso and turmeric in the same breath that conveniently forgets their exclusion and past prejudices. Ok so you expanded your palate, good for you. This is not a justification to continue to steal from us and exclude us from an arena we so rightly belong - the arena of food, cooking and eating.  

This is where a lot of my anger lies. The silencing of BIPIC while taking from them. The exploitation of BIPOC food and ingredients without apologies or acknowledgement of their sweat, blood, tears and efforts. It is the taking and making money off of the very food and recipes, that for so long held us apart from mainstream society. Oh they’re nice people but their food is strange so they must me too. Let’s put them in Chinatown, Koreatown, Japantown, and eat their chop suey for lunch this weekend. You take our food but you do not see us, our culture, our history. You only want the delicious and ignore the complicated, the stinky, the strange, and the ugly. 

We are pissed because food for us is fundamental, so vital to our lives. It’s not just about eating the latest grain bowl, or the next superfood. It is not a trend for us. My first coconuts were not hangover cures with all the electrolytes I needed. My coconuts did not come in a can: It was small, hairy, and brown and my mom cracked them open with her cleaver. We wondered how much coconut water it would have and a full cup was a wonderful surprise. My mom had this nifty tool for grating the coconut, fresh.

samer daboul | pexels

I once had a white girl exclaim “eww!” about the succulent and tender chicken feet dish I was eating - as I was bringing a piece to my mouth in fact. She interrupted me mid bite to express her disgust in my food, while in a dim sum restaurant. The caucasity! In her dismissal of this favourite food, she misses so much: the propensity towards particular textures, the sharing of a dish on a special occasion, the work to prepare the dish, the fragrance and steam of this delicious dish. 

For people of colour, food is everything. It is a time to get together in celebration or mourning. It is a labour of love, made by busy hands. It is an act of faith and sacrifice. It could be a livelihood, keeping a family alive: When my mom was in a refugee camp in Thailand, she made donuts for money. Our food is a last link to home, the motherland, and our ancestors, who we may not know, but whisper to us when we hold and smell the spices that connect us together. My mom cannot give me anything she says, but she fills my heart and soul with love, her cooking and her recipes. The very act of her hands making me a meal shows more than anything, her love and care for me.

Food for us is a gathering of aunties talking with excitement, a family bending over dumplings, a solemn moment taken during a break, hours of painstaking labour. It is our ancestors, our dreams, our hopes, and our prayers. It feeds us and let’s us be ourselves. It brings us the familiar when all around can be strange, new and chaotic; yet it can also teach us new things and allows us to open our minds. 

hang tran | pixabay

I do want to stress that it is wonderful to learn about different cuisines, and to expand one’s palate. I love seeing people from all over the world exploring different cuisines. This is one reason why I (along with many BIPOC) loved Anthony Bourdain. He also understood how central food is for us without directing the narrative - it seemed like he felt just lucky enough to meet people who could show him the way. This is one of my favourite things to do too. I love eating, learning about, and cooking different foods from all over the world. I just want to hear from more perspectives. I want to hear the narratives of the people who cook my food, it is as simple as that. Where does this food or recipe come from? Why is it so important to you? What do you like to eat? Tell me what you think is delicious.

Food is central to so much in a lot of BIPOC cultures. This is something that the teams at BA and a lot of other publications don’t quite get. When you take just the spices, and the recipes and choose to mute and ignore the people and the culture behind it, you miss out on exactly what makes the food so crazy delicious in the first place.

elviss railijs bitāns | pexels