Anti-Imperialism and Longevity Noodles

This week’s reading focused on Anti-Imperialism and the advocacy for the betterment of life for Black Americans by the Black Panther Party and Lao, Cambodian, and Korean peoples. It is so interesting how little Asian colonialism and ‘intervention’ I learned about in school. I think the true essence of Afro-Asia was covered in the “Lao Patriotic Front’s Memorandum” section of the readings. There was solidarity within Asian groups and between the Black Panthers and Asian Anti-Imperialists. The coalition-building was best mentioned here: “The struggle against the US imperialists for the national salvation of the Lao people is also an inseparable part of the struggle for national independence, peace and democracy of the Asians, African and Latin American peoples and has made worthy contributions to that glorious struggle.”

As I continued reading through the material for this week, I stumbled upon the Black Panther Party Black Community News Service: Anti-Imperialist Delegation section and noticed the image of a birthday celebration. I began wondering about birthday celebrations and how various cultures partake.

When looking at a website talking about a variety of birthdays from coming-of-age, traditions, and rituals, I found a practice I do annually. The funny thing was noting its origin. My Filipino family emphasizes the consumption of long noodles to ensure a long life on your birthday, and the website cited this practice as one of Chinese descent. This goes to show how beautiful cultural fusion can be as facets of my identity can be rooted in many different places. I found that there is a specific type of noodle for this occasion: the longevity noodle.

Noodles were invented in northwestern China about 4000 years ago but became popularized from 618-907. The longevity noodle is called yi mein. They are known for being golden and chewy and are made of wheat, eggs, baking soda/soda water. They are consumed for Chinese New Year, birthdays, and other celebrations. Longevity is a principle that is widely revered in Chinese culture and there are certain etiquettes for eating these noodles. If celebrating for a birthday: guests give noodles to birthday guest signifying wishes of fortune, happiness, and longevity, noodles are never to completely fill the bowl as that represents one coming to capacity on noodles (hence their life), and most importantly for my family: never cut the noodles short as they represent your life! These noodles are traditionally cooked with pork, chicken, or alternatively with chive and shiitake mushroom!

As the world is in a chaotic state, let us not forget to cherish one another.

Works Cited:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Birthday

China: Long Life Noodles (Chang Shou Mian)

Chewing Gum: American Capitalism and Aztec Gender Politics

In Kay Ulanday Barrett’s poem “Ways the Philippines Can Talk” (AAFC Vol. II), the speaker explores the observations and discomforts of their complex Filipinx identity. In line 8, the speaker discusses the external attitudes that lack visibility, and even protection during ordinary tasks like buying gum at the store.

Ancient Greeks and Neolithic Scandinavians were known to chew plant-derived material, like birch-bark tar. North American indigenous cultures also chewed up spruce tree resin, which would be a habit to be later exploited and capitalized by European settlers (surprise, surprise…).

However, the earliest form of chewing gum closest to the version we know today is “chicle.” Chicle is a natural latex that stems from the resin found in the “sapodilla tree in southern Mexico and Central America” (Fiegl). Considered “shameful behavior,” chewing chicle publically was reserved only for children or older women. In fact, adult women who chewed chicle were viewed as harlots and men were seen as “effeminates.” Chewing gum still feels like an unpolished, unsophisticated act like how it is illegal in Singapore. Chewing gum can also be an indicator of who is the “villain” or “lowly” character. It is interesting how even in media depictions today, sex workers or sexually confident women are often seen chewing gum, like in this scene in Pretty Woman (1990)

In terms of American industry, chewing gum’s evolution into a $19 billion dollar industry is striking. Villianized by Trotsky as a capitalist device that “keep the working man from thinking too much,” chewing gum’s rise in the United States started from the eleventh time president of Mexico, Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna. Looking to rebrand chicle as a rubber substitute to regain power, Santa Anna teamed up with American inventor Thomas Adams during Santa Anna’s exile in Staten Island in the 1860s. Santa Anna eventually lost interest and went back to Mexico penniless after failed attempts to integrate chicle in products like tires. However, Adams discovered how much children loved paraffin wax gum and redirected chicle for that. William Wrigley involved himself in the making, which would later produce gum we know today like “Juicy Fruit” and “Spearmint.”

When thinking about American militarism and colonialism, chewing gum is also apart of that narrative. Especially since Ulanday Barrett’s poem takes place in the Philippines, it is essential to consider this strange tension with one’s Filipinx-American identity in a country where products of American violence and capitalism saturates the landscape. When Wrigley convinced gum to be included as a food item to be distributed to troops during World War II, soldiers spread this habit of chewing gum across the world. This globalization of chewing gum, however, lead to what would unfold in many years of tumultuous conflict between the United States and Mexican and Central American chicle exporters. Jennifer Matthews even goes further to discuss how this high demand for chicle during wartime eventually resulted in the abandonment of chicle as an ingredient and another collapse of the Maya civilization.

Fiegl, Amanda. n.d. “A Brief History of Chewing Gum.” Smithsonian Magazine. Accessed September 27, 2020. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/a-brief-history-of-chewing-gum-61020195/.

Hansen, Liane, and Jennifer Matthews. n.d. “‘Chicle’: A Chewy Story Of The Americas.” Accessed September 27, 2020. https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=106439600.

Mathews, Jennifer P., and Gillian P Schultz. Chicle: the Chewing Gum of the Americas, from the Ancient Maya to William Wrigley. Tucson: University of Arizona Press, 2009. https://hdl.handle.net/2027/mdp.39015084097222?urlappend=%3Bsignon=swle:https://shibidp.cit.cornell.edu/idp/shibboleth.

Pretty Woman Shopping Scene. n.d. Accessed September 27, 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qj9MTcXHdlE.

 

Dotori-Muk/Acorn Jelly

The AAFC History zine excerpts Julie Ae Min’s memoir.  In the excerpt, she returns home after several months of excuses to find her mom cooking her favorite food, which includes sliced acorn jelly (14).

Acorn Jelly, or “Dotori Muk,” is a Korean dish made using either fresh acorns or store-bought acorn powder. With fresh acorns, they are washed, soaked in water, grinded up, sifted, and finally boiled, to create a hazel jiggly jelly (Korea Times). With powder, it’s much simpler.  One just boils “dotori mukgaru,” or acorn jelly powder, with water and salt, with some steps of straining, stiffing, and cooling (Epicurious).  This powder is a staple of Asian supermarkets (NYT).

This dish is said to have begun as a way for villages to feed themselves – they would forage for wild acorns and them mill them on millstones (NYT). The more traditional way is more complicated and laborious, with some risks.  Raw acorns contain tannins, and too much tannin is toxic.  That’s why the soaking and rinsing is so important, and some oaks have more tannins, requiring more time to leech the toxins from their acorns (NYT).

In the reading, the reference to acorn jelly is evocative of a home staple, the experience of coming home from college to your mom making your favorite foods. It’s also about the author’s return home to Bayside as a immersion in a Korean immigrant community, and the tension between her childhood life and community and the one she’s started to form for herself.

Citations:

AROBINSONNEAL. KOREAN ACORN JELLY (“DOTORIMUK”). 28 Feb. 2013, www.epicurious.com/recipes/member/views/korean-acorn-jelly-dotorimuk-52020701.

Lee, Debbie. What the Squirrels Know: Acorns for Dinner. 8 Oct. 2010, www.nytimes.com/2010/10/13/dining/13acorn.html.

Sang-hee, Han. Enjoy Dotori Muk at Hansoban. 6 Aug. 2009, www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/culture/2020/08/135_49700.html.

 

Chinese Pickles: Preservation of Chinese Culture and Activism

“There is a rich history of women-led resistance and political agency in these neighborhoods. The activism we see in Manhattan’s Chinatown today [is] in much a longer lineage and history of women-led cultural production through Asian American collectives…” (Wong).

As mentioned by Diane Wong in Volume 2 of Asian American Feminist Collective, the gentrification occurring in Manhattan’s Chinatown is steadily replacing families’ homes and businesses with opulent restaurants and luxury stores. This alteration in Chinatown’s urban landscape not only endangers the livelihood of its inhabitants, but it also threatens to erase the deeply rooted history of “women-led resistance” and “women-led cultural production” ingrained in the neighborhood (Wong). In order to maintain and continue female-led activism, seemingly common shops in Chinatown have been hosting events that foster conversations across generations and the exploration of Chinese culture and activism.

When reading about the residents’ attempts to preserve their history of activism and Chinese culture, I was reminded of Chinese pickles. Often served as a side dish or appetizer, Chinese pickles are prepared by fermenting fruits and vegetables in a salt or vinegar mixture or marinating them in a soy-based paste. There are over “130 different kinds of Chinese pickles,” but the ingredients most frequently used in these refreshing, flavorful dishes are cucumbers, radishes, mustards, cabbage, and lettuce hearts (TasteAtlas). Moreover, every region of China has its own method of preparing pickles. For instance, in Szechuan, pickles are seasoned with a particular mixture containing dried chili, Szechuan peppercorns, gin, and ginger.

Preparing pickled ingredients at home has always been an essential component of Chinese culture. Dating back to the “Zhou dynasty era,” the tradition of pickling emerged from a history of natural disasters that prompted people to develop pickling as a way to conserve food for long periods of time (Ralph and Terebelski). There are even ornate pickling urns and jars that date back to the Qing Dynasty (1644-1912) (CGTN). Here’s an example of what an urn looked like! https://www.1stdibs.com/furniture/decorative-objects/vases-vessels/urns/early-20th-century-chinese-glazed-pickling-pot/id-f_14514562/

In Diane Wong’s interview, Chinese pickles can represent the Chinese residents’ attempts to preserve their history of activism and culture within their rapidly changing neighborhood. Similar to how pickling has been a long-standing tradition passed through generations, shop owners’ initiatives to encourage discussions regarding Chinese culture and activism enable residents to maintain a sense of belonging and connection to their heritage.

Works cited:

CGTN. 300 And Counting: The Pickle Urns of a Chinese Chef. news.cgtn.com/news/3455444e34677a6333566d54/share_p.html.

“Chinese Pickles History and Types.” Chinese Pickles History – Popular Fermented Chinese Food, www.chinesefoodhistory.com/chinese-cuisine-history/chinese-pickles-history/.

TasteAtlas. Chinese Pickles: Traditional Pickling From China. 7 Sept. 2016, www.tasteatlas.com/chinese-pickles.

Terebelski, Dana, and Nancy Ralph. Pickles of Asia. 2003, www.nyfoodmuseum.org/_pasia.htm.

Wong, Diane. “Dreaming Diasporas In Chinatowns Around the Globe.” Asian American Feminist Collective: Solidarity, Politicizing, Talking Back.

 

Acorn Jelly (Two Words that Go Surprisingly Well)

Acorn jelly holds a special place in my little heart. My favorite thing to do is grocery shop, early memories of  roaming the Hyundai Department Store with their unlimited samples, my mom could always find me near the acorn jelly coated in  heapings of “kim”, dried seaweed. In Julie Ae Kim’s “Uhl-Gool”, she describes the bribes of food her “umma” lays out on the table as a form of currency for her daughter (Kim)

Kim’s consistent use of parallelism allows her writing to be incredibly striking. She ties in the Asian American cultural differences and the traditional focus her mother has which is shown through the consistent up keep of facials alongside traditional Korean dishes. Acorn jelly is traditional meal that is slowly growing out of style, it’s variations of clear mung bean jelly and green bean jelly have steadily grown into fashion as they boast a more delicate texture in comparison to the acorn. That being said, Kim most likely has chosen dotorimuk for its historical significance as its creation is shown as a labor of love/respect. The jelly is made from modest ingredients (wild acorns) but the attainment of them is the difficult part. In a very mountainous country, people would have to travel across the forest to grab the needed across and then have to mill them finely into a powder to create a smooth result (Lee). Due to the simplicty of ingredients, dotorimuk is normally eaten with a topping of the traditional Korean soy sauce that peppers and green onions are added to. This presentation means that the forming of your muk has be spotless, smooth and poreless.

In Kim’s excerpt, she describes the almost grotesque process that is required in these facials. This kind of vanity is not simply for oneself but also for others as noted by her mother referencing that her daughter worked for the mayor’s office. Much like the muk, the blemishes of the face are evident from afar and the need to achieve that kind of perfection is an example of the immigrant struggle that her mother has endured. In order to prevent such  struggles from occurring, the mother is trying to literally scrub away any disadvantages or physical mistakes that could occur. Kim has an internal struggle about this kind of acceptance alongside her mother’s wishes but ultimately she understands that it is often best to just grin and bear it.

Kim, Julie. “Uhl-Gool.” Asian American Feminist Collective: Solidarity, Politicizing, Talking Back, pp. 14–14.

Lee, Debbie. “What the Squirrels Know: Acorns for Dinner.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 8 Oct. 2010, www.nytimes.com/2010/10/13/dining/13acorn.html.

Acorn Jelly

As mentioned in the second volume of the AAFC magazine, acorn jelly, also known as dotori muk, is a Korean dish that essentially makes a smooth jelly out of acorn meal. Today, people can avoid the laborious task of collecting and preparing the acorns and instead buy acorn starch from a grocery store. But, historically, many people with access to a large enough source of acorns, such as the Indigenous people of North America, figured out how to utilize this unlikely food source. After collecting the nuts and shelling them, a necessary step is grinding the acorns into a flour and soaking it in water to leach out the toxins. Then, this was often used as a kind of oatmeal or baked into breads. Acorn jelly requires another step to further refine the acorns from a meal consistency to a flour consistency, to make its silky firm texture. Dotori muk is said to have originated in the mountain regions of Korea, where there were ample oak trees for acorns to be a reliable source of sustenance. I found the various forms of preparation to be interesting, as it speaks to the various ways different people approach the same food source.

Lee, Debbie. “What the Squirrels Know: Acorns for Dinner.” The New York Times, The New York Times, 8 Oct. 2010, www.nytimes.com/2010/10/13/dining/13acorn.html.

Ling, Wan Yan. “Grocery Ninja: Eating Acorn Jelly the Unorthodox Way.” Serious Eats, Serious Eats, 10 Aug. 2018, www.seriouseats.com/2008/04/grocery-ninja-eating-acorn-jelly-the-unorthodox-way.html.

How Papaya Traveled to Laos

In the Black Panther newspaper, it details the war between Laos and the United States. The article about Laotian people’s fight for independence from United States imperialists. Reading this excerpt enthused me to research more of Laotian culture and dishes. One of these famous meals is green papaya salad, also known as Dtam mak huhng. This salad is prepared with unripe green papaya, lime juice, chilis, salt, sugar, fermented crab dip and fish sauce. It is served as a side dish with sticky rice, cabbage, or pork rinds. The fruit-based dish is a cornerstone of this Southeast Asian nation and is said to have originated here, despite having a more famous counterpart in Thailand. However, papaya is not native to this region. It’s origins are in the tropical climates of Central America, where it would be used for both food and medicine in early civilizations. In the 1500s, the fruit was brought to several countries across South America and the Caribbean. Spanish imperialists brought papaya to the Philippines where it quickly spread to neighboring countries like Vietnam, Thailand, and Laos,of course. The fruit thrived in this tropical environment. Papaya cultivation has now become a very successful market in several regions across the globe including Hawaii, Australia, and South Africa.

 

https://www.travelfish.org/beginners_detail/laos/15

https://www.herbazest.com/herbs/papaya/where-does-papaya-come-from

Qingtuan and Cultural Resilience

In the essay “Family Histories of Displacement: Reflections on Tracing Transnational Histories” from  AAFC Zine Vol. II, Diane Wong describes the time she spent in Shanghai, China discovering her family history and tracing the paths her ancestors would have walked. After being surprised by the breadth of knowledge and records about her family that had survived times of upheaval such as the cultural revolution and her family’s displacement, Wong writes of how she went back to visit the area where her grandmother once lived. Despite the fact that much had changed since her grandmother’s home had been demolished and her family had been gradually forced out of their home, there were still some familiar landmarks that seemed to persist, such as “the elderly women selling jasmine flower bundles on the expressway bypass and the sweets shop where many of my grandma’s patients worked for decades” (AAFC Zine 7). Even through years of upheaval and change, Wong was able to recognize these parts of the community from her family’s memories and photographs, and thus maintain a link to the Shanghai her grandmother would have known.

Wong does not mention the name of this specific sweets shop, but then, Shanghai is famed for its desserts and its streets are populated with many such vendors. Over the course of my research into the Shanghai sweetshop scene, I discovered a shop named Shen Da Cheng that was first opened in 1875 and has since become a fixture of Nanjing Dong Lu, one of the busiest commercial roads in the area. Now extended into a franchise, the shop’s long history in the region owes a great deal to its speciality glutinous rice, and one of the most beloved menu items it carries is the qingtuan filled with red bean paste. Qingtuan is a sweet rice dumpling, featuring a coat of sticky rice mixed with wild mugwort sauce, wheat seedlings and the juice of other vegetables and herbs such as bromegrass. 

The green delicacy is a seasonal food, usually prepared in the south of China close to the Qingming festival in the spring, as that is the time of year when mugwort, bromegrass and other ingredients involved in the recipe are best to eat. The traditional preparation of qingtuan dates back to the Tang Dynasty, when it was usually made as an offering for ancestral rituals and not for general consumption. Throughout the centuries, it has evolved into a popular festive food, with the customary rice ball filling being supplemented by other components such as red bean paste, meat floss, and salted egg yolk. At Shen Da Cheng and across eateries in southern China, there are now many variations of qingtuan, such as milk ice cream, matcha, and sesame qingtuan. The dumplings are very in demand and often sell out at various shops when they are available, the seasonal nature contributing to their intense popularity.

There is, then, a significant parallel that might be drawn between the story of family and place that Wong discovers and, in retelling, continues to revive and nourish, and the way that qingtuan’s deep roots in the past have cemented its place amongst Shanghai cuisine in the present and, likely, the future. Recipes can be living artifacts, grounded in customs and ingredients that were first nurtured and devised generations ago. In continuing to tell histories of ourselves and our traditions while taking into account the disruptions and uncertainties embedded within them, it is possible, as Wong concludes, to envision new futures that surpass notions of linearity to include various experiences and envelop different times.

Works Cited

Chew Wen Yie, Janelle. “Shen Da Cheng (沈大成).” Time Out Shanghai, 16 July 2019,
www.timeoutshanghai.com/venue/Restaurants-Chinese-Chinese/68557/Shen-Da-Cheng.html.

Anran, Wang and Jiang Wei. “SISU:  PANORAMA: Exploring Chinese Culture: My Memory of Qingtuan.” SISU | PANORAMA | Exploring Chinese Culture: My Memory of Qingtuan, en.shisu.edu.cn/resources/features/exploring-chinese-culture-my-memory-of-qingtuan#:~:text=According to a historical research,an offering at ancestral rituals.

Yan, Li. “Take a Bite of Qingtuan and Taste the Flavor of Spring.” China News Service Website – Headlines, Stories, Photos and Videos, www.ecns.cn/travel/food/2019-04-02/detail-ifzfwnmy4091063.shtml.

Wong, Diane. “Family Histories of Displacement: Reflections on Tracing Transnational Histories.” Asian American Feminist Collective: Solidarity, Politicizing, Talking Back, pp. 7.

Octopus: The Tasty Monster of Global Conquest

Octopi have been a common theme in political cartoons ever since they came into the popular eye in the 1870s with the first depiction of Russia as an octopus hailing over Eastern Europe. Continually, the octopus was then used as a symbol of unwanted spread and conquest. Therefore, the octopus talked about in the “What is the Third World?” transcript draws from this long history of the beast of the octopus being a monster and a threat to the world. “But these very important events have only weakened this octopus” (What is the Third World?). In this context, the octopus is a depiction of the colonial powers, so I find it interesting that octopus is something that is eaten by many of the places that were once colonized or were in some way oppressed by the colonial powers. It is also significant that octopus is prepared on both the African and Asian continents. I already knew about octopus in Asian cuisine but I was surprised to learn about it in African cuisine. One recipe I found was of a Tanzanian dish called Pwezi wa nazi, which means “octopus and coconut” in Swahili. This dish, made mostly in Zanzibar is even invoked similar spices to Indian curry by using cardamom, turmeric, cloves, ginger, anise, and tomatoes in its recipe. In a way, this shows the solidarity that Afro-Asia can have in symbolically taking down the octopus of colonialism and enjoying the fruits of its demise. 

 

Resources

Akhalbey, Francis. “Pweza Wa Nazi, the Mouthwatering Zanzibari Seafood Dish Prepared with Octopus and Coconut Milk.” Face2Face Africa, 13 July 2018, face2faceafrica.com/article/pweza-wa-nazi-the-mouthwatering-zanzibari-seafood-dish-prepared-with-octopus-and-coconut-milk. 

Ottens, Nick. “The Octopus in Political Cartoons.” Never Was, 19 Apr. 2020, neverwasmag.com/2017/08/the-octopus-in-political-cartoons/. 

“What is the Third World?” Triple Jeopardy, vol.1, no. 2, november, 1971, p. 16.

Melancholy Marinade

“Loss is funny in many ways; it comes back to you decades later, as hiccupped memories, and sudden slews of sadness… The first time returning [to Bangladesh] was impossible for Ammu, but she learned to be herself again and to deal with a new relationship to these places and people back home. Loss can begin to taste different when you’ve been marinating in it for a long time.” (Marium, Thahitun)

In the second installment of the Asian American Feminist Collective zine, Thahitun Marium writes about experiencing loss through the diaspora. The author writes about their and their Ammu’s reckoning with the geographical home of Bangladesh, reintroduced to the senses and spaces, usually available only through memory, suddenly apparent. Thathitun ends their zine entry with a food metaphor, describing the fluidity of their Ammu’s experience of loss through the technique of marination.

To marinade, the process of cooking meats, typically, in any combination of oil, water, acids, and spices to achieve a more tender, flavorful outcome, takes its etymology from the Latin word for sea, mare. The English, Italian, and French languages adapted mare into forms of marinare, to add salt or salty water (“A Brief History of Marinades”). Marinades come in multiple forms, from acid marinades to enzyme marinades. Alcohol, beans, fruit, fruit seeds and more each have specific intrinsic properties that affect the structure of meat such that it begins to break down and become more palatably desirable. Time duration, size and division of marinated object (whole piece or small bits), and marinade concentration are all factors in the marination process (“Science of Marinades”). To upset the balance of any of these variables could result in tough meat.

If loss is the marinade we humans stew in, then our experience and perception of loss is indeed complex. Loss, like marinades, comes in many forms and combinations, can feel light and peripheral or intimate and acerbic. We lose friends, family, colleagues, or a name we knew in passing. Every loss feels different. Thahitun’s Ammu’s marination was perhaps slow and patient before the two returned to Bangladesh. In the confrontation of Bangladesh and estranged family members, Thahitun and Ammu’s loss transformed. Surely, as they carry that visit with them into the future, their flavor of loss will continue to shift. Thahitun’s writing attests that loss not only reshapes itself, but the people who experience it, too.

“A Brief History of Marinades.” Reggae Spice Company, reggaespicecompany.com. https://www.reggaespicecompany.com/blogs/news/a-brief-history-of-marinades

Hu, Catherine. “Science of Marinades,” scienceandfood, 31 March 2015. https://scienceandfooducla.wordpress.com/2015/03/31/science-of-marinades/

Marium, Thahitun. “A Return,” Asian American Feminist Collective History Zine, Volume 2, page 12.