Text 8808, 108 rader
Skriven 2006-12-14 22:29:00 av JIM WELLER (1:123/140)
     Kommentar till en text av DAVE SACERDOTE
Ärende: What? 1
===============
 -=> Quoting Dave Sacerdote to Jim Weller <=-

 JW> Simon Bao. . .

 DS> Should I know who that guy is?
 DS> [Not being a wiseass, I never heard of him and neither, 
 DS> apparently, has Google.]

He's not famous or anything just a funny and articulate poster on
another cooking list I'm on. I've quoted him and posted his recipes here
before, a few times.  He is at his best when telling tales of the dumb
things teenaged new immigrants do in strange lands. Here's another Simon
story:

"Even the *idea* of anyone anywhere *eating* a dog can be very unpleasant
to some people.  If you are such a person, you may want to just ignore
and delete this. But I *assure* you that in the story I will tell, no
dog was ever harmed in any way, and certainly was not eaten.

The point of this particular story is that, for a young Vietnamese
refugee who has just arrived in the USA, life here can be so new and
marvelous and bewildering.

Tam turned 18 and WHOOSH, he and his brother Tien were scooped up from a
camp in Indonesia, dropped out of the sky, and fell to the earth in
Philadelphia.

To survive, one might need a tutor, a confidant, an advisor, village
elder, counselor, mentor, "Wing Man," godbrother.  A priest to absolve
you of whatever really Bonehead thing you just did and encourage you to
keep trying.  Or have all those things combined into just one person,
what Viets might call a "Si Phu." My godbrother and "Si Phu" became
godbrother also to Tam.

One of the things every new arrival needs is a guided tour and
explanation of an American food market. My godbrother gave them a full
color, fully illustrated, bilingual Picture Dictionary that had several
pages and scenarios devoted just to shopping in an American supermarket.
For a new arrival, an American supermarket is a bewildering place, and
not simply because English is used rather than Vietnamese.  Most food
products are unfamiliar, many are unimagined, and some can't even be
translated.  They require a full explanation. Sometimes, they require
justification.

So I know my godbrother introduced Tam to the local "Food Value".
There were some tricks to giving a Supermarket Orientation that I might
mention.  Canned foods always required special, in-depth explanations.
Most of the time, there were too many different words on the front of a
label, and most weren't even in the dictionary. The trick, then as now,
is that canned foods have a picture on the label that is the clue to
what's inside.  Even without understanding the words, the picture tells
you that it is a can of beans, peas, corn, etc. (Canned milk could
confuse a newcomer, since the cans most often have a picture of a cow.)

It was on a Saturday, about 2 weeks after Tam and Tien arrived in the US
that Tam invited my godbrother to stay for lunch. Tam set out some
slices of "Luncheon Meat," some very cheap version of SPAM that had been
fried the night before with lots of garlic.  And  he set out a bowl of
something my godbrother did not recognize.  Some kind of brown meat
dish.  Chunks of meat in sauce. It tasted more like a bland American
food than a Vietnamese food.  No trace of fish sauce or ginger, no touch
of lemongrass or chile pepper, little or no garlic.  Tam had sprinkled
some sliced scallion on top of the meat but that was the only vaguely
Vietnamese thing about it.  It looked very much like meat that had been
slow-braised in a Vietnamese caramel sauce, a Thit Kho dish, but there
was no sweetness.  And no bones, the meat was boneless and extremely
tender.

My godbrother wondered if this was some "Frenchified" dish, some
Vietnamese adaptation of a French stew that perhaps Tam's mother back
home had learned somewhere, so he asked Tam what kind of meat it was.

"Dog.  It's so delicious, yes."

Phhhhtttt.  My godbrother *insists* he was drinking from a glass of
water at that moment, and he choked and water came out his nose.  Tam
has confirmed this many times.  Water blew out the nostrils.... with
force.

Our Si Phu asked Tam to repeat that, and Tam again said that the meat
was dog.  And that it was very delicious.  This time, there was no
mistaking the words "Thit Cho" (dog meat).

The reason for my godbrother's instant alarm was not that he objected to
eating dog meat.  The reason was, as everyone is supposed to know,
Vietnamese MUST NOT EAT DOG IN AMERICA!

It does not matter how much dog one ate back in Vietnam or how much one
loves some nicely grilled "Thit Cho," one simply never again eats dog
once one arrives in the USA.

I know my godbrother instantly regretted that he had overlooked this
detail, he hadn't told Tam & Tien, emphasized it, or reminded them.  He
assumed this fact had been stated and restated for them during "cultural
orientations" in the refugee camp.


Cheers

Jim, in Yellowknife




... It takes so little to entertain me sometimes!
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