During Bính’s dinner with the stranger from the bridge (allegedly Ho Chi Minh from an interview with Monique Truong), they dine on the luxurious salt-and-pepper shrimp with the shells still on.
Upon first glance, I found this dish strange as I’m more familiar with salt and pepper pork chops, so I found Truong’s choice quite intriguing. After some googling, I found shrimp is a symbol of prosperity and happiness as the word closely resembles the Chinese word for “laughter.” However, there isn’t much else. Instead, it might be useful to draw upon the literary symbolism of shrimp within the novel’s context. Perhaps, shrimp’s importance can lie in its presence in French, Chinese, and also Vietnamese cuisine. Or that it can allude to Bính and the stranger’s salty oceanic voyage to France. Technically, keeping the shells on shrimp often preserves the tender, succulent texture of the shrimp and is a preference seen in my own childhood kitchen too. But, retaining the shells could also serve as a metaphor for Bính’s masked queerness as he sneaks off in the early morning hours from Sweet Sunday man’s bed.
Yet, the duo of salt and pepper has a more discursive history. For one, Vietnam is the world’s largest producer of pepper with a 34% share in global production. Yet, it was not paired with salt until the Enlightenment Period with Louis the XIV. The French king was a picky eater, so much to the point where he banned seasonings except salt, pepper, and parsley. This ingredient pair seems fitting in a story that discusses the tensions of the Western palate deeming what is a tabletop essential.
I really enjoyed reading about your thoughts on this scene and especially how you found out that food (in this case shrimp) is often paired with a superstitious mindset. In my experience with an Asian upbringing, oranges and fish are always eaten for New Year’s because it symbolizes prosperity so it was interesting to see that even in literature, these seemingly small traditions have large contextual meanings.