Food of a Nation

I am regularly amused by arguments between my home country and its neighbours about who has the better claim to a ‘national dish’. These have taken place more often as countries apply to UNESCO for recognition of a cultural artifact – food apparently qualifies. You’ve likely heard about the argument between Ukraine and Russia about the origins of borsch since the breakout of war last year. Anya von Bremzen covers this incident in the epilogue of her latest book, National Dish, which I just finished reading.

 

National Dish is the second food-travel book I’ve read this year that’s not also a cookbook –  the other being Have You Eaten Yet? by Cheuk Kwan on the Chinese diaspora. Both books are excellent and engaging. Kwan’s book motivated me to try fusion Peruvian-Chinese food three months ago, while von Bremzen’s book had me scouring the internet looking for a specific brand of Japanese instant noodle bowls; I plan to visit a Japanese market in my area to see if they have any.

 

But National Dish isn’t just about food. It’s also about what happens to how food is viewed in the process of nation-building. What we call nation-states today are a rather recent development over the last two hundred years or so. Population explosion following the industrial revolution and advances in medicine are contributing factors. So are wars and territory-grabbing. It was eye-opening for me to read about Franco’s Spain and Mustafa Kemal’s Turkey, and how the stoking of nationalism extended to cuisine in multiple ways. Von Bremzen tries to trace the history of a so-called ‘national dish’ and uncovers varied beliefs from the local populace. She interviews food experts, anthropologists, and chefs. And best of all, she decides to try and cook these dishes with local ingredients in their home countries. You might get hungry reading about it; she’s an evocative writer.

 

Growing up in a multicultural country, I learned to classify certain foods as being the specialty of particular ethnic groups. But these dishes had been adapted to local tastes such that you were not likely to find them from their “home countries” – although none of us (school-aged kids) thought of ourselves as being from some other nation. Where we were born and grew up was our nation. We were proud of it. Everything I ate growing up I consider to be part of my nation’s cuisine. Globalization wasn’t as prevalent, and I had hardly tasted the cuisine of other nations. My only impression of American food growing up was KFC, an occasional treat.

 

These days, when I visit my home country, cuisines of other countries are all the rage. My friends who still live there are more interested in these new foods, while I am interested in the older local delights. But now I do see a trend of ‘new’ restaurants finding a niche by specializing in ‘old’ food – supposedly more authentic, and higher-priced with advertised artisanal labour. National Dish made me aware of this trend, and von Bremzen helps me put words to concepts that were hazy in my mind. Food travels. Cultures meet and exchanges take place that lead to a new synthesis. A fusion of sorts. For me, these exchanges have been friendship-building. Coming to the U.S. was eye-opening for me, and I enjoyed being exposed to national cuisines from all over the world. Food unites rather than divides. As it should be!

 

I close with a picture (grabbed from the internet) of what I suspect most citizens of my country would pick (if only given one choice) of our national dish. I haven’t eaten it in a while. My country’s cuisine is not represented in the city where I live; I’d have to drive an hour and a half to get it, if I didn’t want to make it myself. One thing globalization has done is that I can now find spice mixes of any food that I miss from home. (I’d still have to put in the labour.) And the internet tells me step-by-step exactly how to make anything I want if I want to celebrate the food of my nation!