We as a nation seem to be struggling with what it means to be American and who fits into the American story. America has been described as both a melting pot and as a salad. To extend the metaphor and because, to me, food is love, here is my American experience told through food.
Because I am a Korean American, I keep kimchi in my fridge and will put it on my hot dog. You will find seaweed snacks in my pantry. Gochujang is my favorite condiment to kick up spice levels followed by chili flakes in chili oil. I love sautéed bok choy with sugar snap peas. My favorite “sushi wrap” will always be pickled daikon radishes with a slightly sweetened omelet wrapped in rice and nori. You’ll find gourmet ramen packets in my pantry and edamame in my freezer.
Because I am Irish American, Guinesss and Smithwick are my preferred beers. I would rather have a Teeling than Woodfords. I spell whiskey with an “e.” I cook as full of an Irish breakfast as I can on St. Patrick’s Day. I get very excited when I can find black and white pudding. I will eat bags upon bags of Taytos before I eat other brands of chips. I think lamb is divine. I cook with Kerrygold butter. I have an incredible weakness for almost anything potato (soup, fried, baked, sautéed, roasted, you get the drift).
Because I married an Italian American, I look forward to stuffed artichokes for holiday and special occasion meals. I get to eat real pasta gravy made from the recipe of a nonna instead of the stuff that comes out of a jar. I can ask for stuffed shells as a special birthday treat. I look forward to braciole, and I pour pasta gravy all over it. The food and wine and conversations are plentiful and last for hours.
Because I am a Southern American, I start the year with Hoppin’ Johns. I cook green beans for hours with a meaty hunk of pork. I have a bacon grease jar in my fridge which I refill regularly and cook with often. I have opinions on what makes good friend chicken. Ice tea is always sweet and best when steeped by the sun in a sweet tea jar. Pecan pies should always have bourbon. I have a ton of casserole recipes ready for almost any occasion. I make my pie dough from scratch, and it includes Crisco. I love Tabasco and you will find it in my pantry.
Because I am a Tennessee American, I will always love Cracker Barrel and acknowledge it’s complicated employment history. Because I am an American often in Minnesota, I love chicken and wild rice soup and now eat it without hot sauce. I think cheese curds are amazing. Because I am an American living in Memphis, I will more than likely politely decline your offer for your barbecue. Because I am an American raised in Nashville, I will shed a tear of joy every time I bite into a Goo-Goo cluster, especially if it is peanut butter. I have one every Christmas.
All of these different dishes and parts of my life make me who I am. I don’t see America as a melting pot or as a salad. I see America as the best potluck ever. We are not one dish. We are a collection of dishes makes the meal whole. Quirky and weird at times, but also vibrant and amazing. When I look at the table that is America with all of us around that table sharing in a meal and sharing our time together, the different dishes we each bring to the table does not threaten me. I get excited and look forward to experiencing what each of us brings to the table.
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