On Nothing Much
|
|
The Road Back Earlier this year, I started my own business, and took a much-needed break from writing On Nothing Much. But I felt that it was time to take up the pen once more, even if it dripped digital ink. I also started a new feature on this website, Not To Miss, and this is a bridge to that. Made From Scratch If you have seen Academy Award-winning director Ang Lee’s brilliant 1994 Taiwanese film, Eat Drink Man Woman (Yin Shi Nan Nu), you’ll understand much about my family and upbringing. The film celebrates the techniques and artistry of gourmet Cantonese cooking. The central characters, a semi-retired Chinese master chef and his three headstrong adult daughters, remind me a lot of my grandfather, mother and two aunts. In the movie, the four family members struggle to voice their feelings for one another and those around them, and the preparation and sharing of elaborate banquet-style dishes at their regular Sunday dinners serve as a surrogate for the absent or stunted conversations. My family, as anyone who has met them will tell you, doesn’t have any serious problems speaking with one another. But I was raised on the type of food prepared in the movie, and family meals involved a lot more than eating. It Seemed So Normal My grandfather’s home has three fully-equipped kitchens – a traditional American residential kitchen with electric appliances for everyday cooking, a commercial-grade Chinese kitchen with two huge side-by-side gas-fired steel woks and an enormous ventilation hood that appeared transplanted from a Hong Kong restaurant, and an outdoor specialty kitchen where a lot of food dehydration, steaming, and oil frying occurred. Growing up, if I was visiting my grandfather anywhere near a mealtime and he thought I might be hungry, there would be 4-5 courses on the table. For just the two of us, and whoever else might be there or happen to drop by. If he had a day’s notice, there would be 7-9 courses and a dozen diners. A week’s notice would get you a feast for two dozen family and friends. He could and did regularly entertain 50 or more dinner guests in his home without undue strain. I learned to tend bar before I turned 13. If you were worthy enough to dine at my grandfather’s table, I knew your drink and how you liked it. You didn’t have to tell me twice. That’s just the way it was, and it seemed so normal to me. My parents have always entertained a lot as well, and are both excellent self-taught cooks. My mom is the best baker I know. She showed me how to roll out perfect pie crust, something you just can’t learn from a cookbook. Dad does everything except desserts. In our younger days, mom cooked during the week, and dad cooked on the weekends. None of us realized how progressive this was until years later because everyone in my extended family of aunts, uncles and cousins cooked. As kids, my siblings and I thought that dad was the more daring cook. But mom was a career woman, and a full day of work is an unfair handicap to putting a food-forward meal on the table every night. We know that now. At least when my parents entertained I rarely had to bartend – either dad did it or guests served themselves. Compared to my grandfather’s home, my parents’ “back of the house” was just run differently. Western Food Service In the West, there are three types of formal food service – buffet where you set all the food out on a serving table and guests help themselves to what interests them before returning to the dining table, service à la russe (Russian service, which became very popular in the French court) where the food is brought to the dining table in separate courses and served from large platters onto a diner’s empty plate, and service à la française (French service, which became very popular in the English court) where food is brought out to the dining table all at once in a single impressive display (modern versions of this include both composed plates put before individual diners at “formal” restaurants, and family-style shared dishes placed in the middle of the table at “informal” restaurants). Sometimes you see these service styles blended together. For example, I was at a charity fundraising dinner recently where the first-course salads and bread rolls were on the dining tables awaiting the guests’ arrival, the main courses and side dishes were in chafing dishes on buffet tables, the wait staff served the desserts and water, and coffee and tea were self-serve. Chinese Food Service Formal Chinese service – typically a nine-course dinner served to guests sitting at round tables with lazy Susans at their centers – reflects elements of all three styles of western food service. The first course is almost always a soup, served from a tureen into individual bowls at the table. The most elegant soup is shark’s fin, followed by bird’s nest (the latter soup is made from nests woven by breeding male swifts from glutinous strands of their own mineral-rich saliva). In some places, the emptied soup bowl becomes a rice bowl for the rest of the meal. Subsequent dishes are brought to the dining table on serving platters in staggered but overlapping courses. Guests are not expected to finish one course before the next course arrives, but there is a sufficient lapse of time between each course so that diners are able to enjoy each course without feeling overly rushed. As the meal progresses, guests are able to revisit prior courses at their pleasure until the platters are emptied. For birthday celebrations, a noodle course is often served because noodles symbolize long life. I mention this because you don’t see birthday cakes or singing waiters at a Chinese restaurant. At least not in my neighborhood. At My Family’s Table Russian service requires a fairly large professional staff, which most modern homes do not have. When my family entertained, the service was either buffet or French service (family style). When entertaining, I also prefer French service, both composed plates and family style. I must admit that I enjoy another type of food service not yet mentioned – take out, or as the Brits call it, take away. Well, some take out could be considered French service, but I think that the compartmented styrofoam containers stretch this concept too far. Not To Miss Needless to say, I love food. It is a meaningful part of my heritage and life, and sustains my family memories. Eat Drink Laugh Live. Thank you, Uncle Ang. Brian
Lam On Nothing Much is a periodic feature of this website that considers life about us. I wish to thank those of you who are reading these postings and sending me notes of encouragement, gentle criticism, or otherwise.
|
|
|
||
|
March 2011 | February 2011 | January 2011 | December 2010 | November 2010 | October 2010 | September 2010 | August 2010 | July 2010 | December 2009 | November 2009 | October 2009 | August 2009 | July 2009 | June 2009 | May 2009 | April 2009 | March 2009 | January 2009 | November 2008 |
||
|
|
