Travel

The Problem With Food Authenticity

What if we should just accept that authentic cuisine cannot be achieved outside the motherland, and instead, we as foodies should be seeking something else?

Having spent most of my life in America, there are specific cuisines that I have only had in America. For instance, I’ve never had Vietnamese or Thai outside of the States. Everything I know about those flavors and textures are strictly based on my dining experiences in America. It’s not that I don’t eat certain cuisines outside of the country. It just seems silly to seek out Thai food in Germany.

I’m sure there are many immigrant expat communities in all pockets of the world. Heck, I grew up in one in LA. But when it comes to food authenticity, how do you know it’s the real thing?

We foodies parade around saying, “This place is authentic because my friend who’s from that country said so," or we gaze into the window and check that the majority of diners are a certain ethnicity. (Is that being racist? Haha.) But what if that’s a pointless endeavor? What if we should just accept that authentic cuisine cannot be achieved outside the motherland, and instead, we as foodies should be seeking something else?

I recently thought about this seriously. I lived in Footscray, a western suburb of Melbourne, where there's a huge Vietnamese and Ethiopian community. Naturally, there are many Vietnamese and Ethiopian businesses and restaurants, and I have frequented a few Vietnamese places. I remember the first time I had a bowl of pho at a random Vietnamese joint. Oh my goodness, it was better than any pho I’ve ever had in America. The noodles were wider and smoother. The broth was clearer and richer in flavor, all without the MSG saltiness. And the Vietnamese mint was so fresh and bright. After eating that, I told myself, this has to be the authentic stuff. Right?

On another day, I went to a Thai restaurant and ordered Pad Sew Ew, a popular wide noodle dish stir fried in soy sauce. In America, the dish is typically sweet and savory, but the version I got was a salty oyster sauce punch. It challenged everything I knew about Pad Sew Ew. Was it supposed to be more on the sweet side or more on the savory side? The egg scramble was more chopped up than the usual pieces I was used to. Was this the true Pad Sew Ew? Is this even a dish in Thailand?!

In America, the dish is typically sweet and savory, but the version I got was a salty oyster sauce punch. It challenged everything I knew about Pad Sew Ew.

When people mention burritos, they automatically think it’s Mexican, but the truth is, it’s actually Tex-Mex (Mexican American food). No one really eats burritos in Mexico! These food misconceptions, however, may be the reason why foodies attempt to seek out authenticity. Personally as a foodie, I seek out authentic cuisine because it’s a window into a different culture. A shared meal potentially implies a communal culture. A seafood-heavy cuisine characterizes a seafaring culture. Soupy and carb rich foods tell of a society that weathers cold temperatures.

Yet, the more I eat in Australia, the more I’m beginning to question the need to seek authenticity. Restaurants are businesses at the end of the day, and they have to do what they need to do to please their customers to keep them coming. Sometimes that means tweaking the food to be sweeter, saltier, or spicier. When these changes are made, the cuisine is technically no longer authentic. Sourcing authentic ingredients can also be expensive or almost impossible, so restaurants have to adjust. Should we as foodies fault the restaurant for doing that? Should we fault the restaurant for trying to please their customers? If you’re a reasonable human being, then you would agree, of course not!

The Chinese food in Bulgaria (supposedly the best in the world according to my girlfriend’s dad) and the Chinese food in China will always be different, but it shouldn’t matter if it’s "authentic” or not because the key question is: is it good? Does it have good flavor? Is it cooked well? Do YOU like it?

Instead of judging a restaurant based on authenticity, I’m coming around to the idea of judging a restaurant on whether the food is good. Sure, a non-authentic restaurant will give me a difficult time learning about the culture, but that’s why I am traveling to the motherlands. I’m going to visit these countries to find out if the pho is usually clearer and richer and if the Pad Sew Ew is usually sweeter or saltier. And once I know, I know. I’m not going to expect American Thai restaurants to replicate what I had in Thailand. They’re obviously in America, and cuisine is regional. Besides, I prefer a sweet Pad Sew Ew anyway!

A clean bowl... that's how you know it was good.

A clean bowl... that's how you know it was good.

So as foodies, let’s stop berating restaurants that are not “authentic” enough. Let’s judge places for the food they serve and whether it’s delicious or not. If you’re nervous about trying a new place, don’t rely on the Yelp reviews. Find people you trust with similar food tastes and get their opinion. Who knows, you may learn you prefer a sweeter Pad Sew Ew too.

Reflecting on 9/11 and the Memorial Museum

If you ask any American who was alive and lucid on September 11, 2001, he or she can tell you exactly where they were and what they were doing the moment they heard about the Twin Towers. I remember I was a sixth grader walking outside our classroom during morning recess when people started crowding the TVs in the classrooms. We were so confused, was this really happening?

There are significant moments in a nation's history that changes the course of the country just like when America won its independence from Great Britain and when the North won the Civil War. The 9/11 bombing was one of those moments. It's hard to explain to Americans born after 9/11, but almost overnight, it became harder to travel, the country went into a state of paranoia, and Congress decided they needed to defend the country by declaring war and sinking billions into a search for weapons of mass destruction that never existed.

Repercussions aside, 9/11 was a tragic and devastating incident on American soil. Many lives were lost and brave responders also put their lives on the line. That day, it didn't matter what color we were or what language we spoke, we came together as Americans to mourn and help each other recover.

The new One World Trade Center stands beautifully at Ground Zero. The two breathtaking reflecting pools give visitors a sense of how awesome the towers were. The whole site really does justly honor the victims. And then there is the 9/11 Memorial Museum.

I had heard the 9/11 Memorial Museum was a very emotional experience, especially for Americans who lived through it, so I really looked forward to the visit. As I walked through the exhibits, it was emotional indeed. Tears came when I watched a replay of the towers falling. I felt anguish when I heard the firsthand accounts. The artifacts and quotes were touching and powerful. The whole museum was very somber, but it's this last point that evoked an emotion inside me I didn't expect: anger.

Perhaps it's my personality. I'm not the kind of person who dwells on the past, and maybe that's why I avoid Holocaust museums. The Diary of Anne Frank and World War II was a notable part of my American schooling and that included visiting Holocaust museums. I'm not trying to be disrespectful because like 9/11, the Holocaust was an even greater tragedy, but so many museums and memorials curate the same stereotypical experience leaving patrons with the same depressing emotions with the message that the Holocaust was horrible. I get it, but can we move past it already? Am I cruel to say that?

The Holocaust and the study of the Holocaust is what’s occurring in the vast majority of other museums of Jewish history,” Tad Taube, the San Francisco-based real estate developer and major donor to the museum, told me this week. “We need to move beyond the Holocaust.
— Jewish History is Not Just About the Holocaust. Finally, a Museum Gets That.
october-12.jpg

To me, going through the 9/11 Memorial felt like going through a Holocaust museum. The lighting was dark, the topic was grave, and there were rare moments I felt uplifted. As a citizen living in post 9/11 America, its disheartening to leave a memorial and realize that our country is still wallowing in this pain. The ugliness from our current political landscape is proof enough, and we continue to live each day reminded by policies that supposedly protect us.

Perhaps it's also my personality to have hope. I think what makes Americans different from other citizens of the world is our optimism. We have hope in reaching our ambitions. We have hope for a brighter future. We have hope in the American Dream. Maybe it's naive, but it's inherent to who we are, and I wish the 9/11 Memorial Museum left me with a lot more hope than it did.

Gap Year Updates

As I embark on my travels around the world, I will be sending out monthly email updates, which you can sign up for here, and they will go straight to your inbox! Otherwise, you can check back here or the sidebar from time to time to see my most recent updates.

Thanks for all your support and happy reading!

A New Adventure Begins!

cōnstantia f ‎(genitive cōnstantiae); first declension

  1. firmness, steadiness, constancy, perseverance
  2. agreement, harmony
  3. (of character) steadfastness, immovability, constancy

My first name is short for Constance, which means "constant, consistent, and steadfast." It's a name that aptly describes my reservations about change. Over the last 26 years, however, I have come to learn that change, though potentially painful, is crucial to my personal growth. I don't think changing for the sake of changing is healthy, but if it helps me gain a new perspective, learn something about myself, or further my skills, then the pain of change is worth it.

Three years ago, I made a huge career and life change by joining an oyster company as its first marketer and moving to Boston to be with Jonathan. Boy, what an amazing ride it has been! Hands down, one of the best decisions of my life, both professionally and personally. I got to pursue my passion in food marketing and build a marketing program from scratch. I got to work for a manager who gave me the freedom to try crazy ideas. I got to spend weekends and holidays with my partner and enjoy Boston summers without college kids! It was three years filled with rare opportunities and amazing experiences I'm blessed to have had, and I will forever look back at that time fondly.

 
Jonathan super excited to find a horseshoe crab on the farm...

Jonathan super excited to find a horseshoe crab on the farm...

 

As young people, I think we often take time for granted. "I'll do it tomorrow. I'll do it next year. I'll do it after my next promotion." Lately, though, I've come to accept that time is something we can never get back and soon, we'll be forty with a mortgage, a few kids, and responsibilities we can't neglect. This is not an excuse to shy away from responsibilities, but rather, an acknowledgement that there's less room for risk and error when one has serious commitments.

So, with all that said, I am embarking on another life journey:

For the next year, I will be working and traveling around the world!

Let me answer a few questions right off the bat:

  • I left my job at the oyster company to do this.
  • Jonathan is not coming with me.
  • I will be in Australia for the first 6 months, but I don't have anything lined up yet besides my first month's lodging.
  • After Australia, I plan to travel through Southeast Asia and Europe for the rest of the year, and then return to Boston.

So why am I going?

Before I get into that, I want to mention for the record that deciding to leave my dream job and being apart from Jonathan were really hard decisions. And the fact that I still chose to go on this trip emphasizes how important this is to me.

There are a few reasons why I am going: my desire to work abroad, sightsee, and do something outside of my comfort zone (i.e. not having a plan), but the most important reason is I want to know what's out there. I want to know how Australians prepare their coffee. I want to know how the Japanese appreciate sushi. I want to know what authentic Vietnamese food, supposedly the best food in the world, tastes like! (Can you tell it's very food-focused?) Sure, I could have vacationed to these countries instead, but having a strict return date limits my opportunity to completely immerse myself in a new culture and explore it fully. After all, time cannot be bought.

 
 

If you know me well, you know the saying "Curiosity killed Connie" is pretty accurate, so in a nutshell, that's why I'm going. How am I feeling about all this? Ha, scared shitless, but super excited too! Not having a plan or knowing what to expect is not my MO, so this will all be about going with the flow.

As for timing, this goes back to not taking time for granted -- I want to do this while I'm still young. A conversation with my mentor encouraged me to think about it seriously, and I'm so glad I did. I don't want to be the person who will regret not going when I had the chance. I want to be the person who said I did it and was forever changed by it.

------

Update 9/22/16

Since writing the above post two days ago, my travel plans have already been derailed. Guess I'm being tested to "go with the flow" from the start!