Craig Wong: Jamaican-Chinese Master Chef

Hey guys,

Happy election day! Please take care of yourselves. Hours away from the chaos, I thought it might be helpful to pose a question that I think is so applicable (especially with our class) at this moment. Someone asked me, “What’s for dinner? Who’s making it? What joy will it bring you?”

More questions I’ve been pondering: What makes you feel connected right now? (to yourself, to others, to your community)…….Who are your people? When/how did you identify this person/these people as one of your people?

Food and my family are the answer to all of those questions for me and so much of what we’ve been sharing/exploring in this class, when my mom sent me this article I found so much of us in it—I had to share.

https://www.eater.com/21540284/chef-craig-wong-jamaican-chinese-cooking-patios-toronto

In the video, Master Chef Craig Wong shares with us the techniques, context, and inspiration behind his Jamaican-Chinese restaurant. The bells absolutely went off for me when he talked about his takes on fusion, him getting these recipes from his Chinese genealogy in Jamaica (I couldn’t help but think of his cooking as archival work) and paying homage (citing) to the indigenous flavors he borrows from both cultures. I don’t want to spoil anything but I pulled a quote from the article that really struck me…

“Jamaican-Chinese food was taught to me by my grandmother. We go back three generations to Jamaica. She was cooking Jamaican food with Chinese ingredients, and Chinese food with Jamaican ingredients,” Wong reminisces. “Fusion for the sake of it is definitely not something that I’m into, but with a mixed background the way that I have, it’s just a natural progression for me to experiment and play with both sides of the cultures and the cuisines.” (

I urge urge urge you guys to give it watch. It’s not just speaking to many of our themes, the food also looks so freaking delicious. It’s even been giving me inspiration for the cookbook!

And with that, tonight I will be having a handful of trail mix for dinner 🙂

KP

 

To Miss, To Migrate, To Murder

“In Vietnamese, the word for missing someone and remembering them is the same: nhớ. Sometimes, when you ask me over the phone, Có nhớ mẹ không? I flinch, thinking you meant, Do you remember me? I miss you more than I remember you.” – Ocean Vuong, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous

In class today we talked about this quote in relation to “when we migrate, we murder from our lives those we leave behind” (Hamid 98). The latter quote from Exit West alludes to the idea that migration can be a solitary act and leaving someone behind can change one’s connection with them, even permanently. It emphasizes the often violent and dangerous nature of migration and being a refugee, as well as the loneliness and levels of separation that occur. Even not purposefully, migration can drastically change how we interact with others. Both of my parents are immigrants and it’s often apparent that they aren’t in regular (or even any kind of) communication with many of those who still live in Vietnam and Hong Kong, respectively. Even today with all of our technologies, it’s near impossible to continue the same relationship and often, our links with others start to fade away. There are memories, people, and places that are irreplaceable, which Saeed’s father understands well when he refuses to leave the city because his wife, though now deceased, still walks the streets with him. In the Vuong quote, the narrator speaks about his mother. She asks if he misses her and he feels gutted, as he misses the idea of her but can barely remember the person herself.