Beyond the Seasoning: Immigrant communities and food
Food, regardless of culture, creed, or class, is an entity that brings people together. In many ways, it is vital to understanding the cultural norms and practices of nonWestern immigrant communities.
Mac n cheese, a Sunday roast, or tomato soup are just some of the typical American comfort foods that a plethora of people hold dear to their hearts. For Iranians, the same safety and warmth are found in Ghormeh Sabzi, Osh, and Tadiq. Each community holds certain foods dear to their hearts in the same way as American culture, but the nuances of this are often slightly differing.
When one leaves their home country, it is often the food of your native culture that keeps you tethered to your childhood, home, and family even if they’re far away. I can’t count the times my mom would make Zereshk Polo and comment on how it reminded her of when she would make lunch with her grandfather for everyone in their family before the revolution, war, and authoritarianism took over their lives. While it was a special memory for her, it is generally acknowledged that food itself serves as a tie one’s home culture — a safe space where they can be unapologetically apart of their ethnicity.
For second-generation kids, the process of embracing their ethnicity’s foods might deviate from this pattern of general constant acceptance. Often in elementary school, kids would take leftovers from the night before when they had dinner with their families. For many second-gen students, this would comprise of curry and turmeric scented stews and rice, yogurt with cucumbers, and other various meals that many American kids had never seen before. Almost all of us have experienced the crushing “Ewww...what is that?” statement by their peers who peer over into their desk partners lunch box, and wanted nothing more than to replace their canister with a Lunchables.
Such interactions would tend to leave kids feeling like they were abnormal for not having standard, bland kid lunches from Ralph’s and would beg their parents to rush to the grocery store so they could get pre-packaged meals that lacked seasoning and wasted a ton of plastic. This panic to assimilate and blatantly reject ethnic foods would manifest in a noticeable distance from one’s culture. Naturally, children and teenagers want nothing more than to be accepted and blend in. But often in college years and beyond, this public rejection of cultural comfort foods begins to fade. Maybe it’s the homesickness of going to a new university, maybe it’s the new subculture of second-generation individuals who are forging a nuanced embrace of their ethnicity. Personally, I believe it’s both. As students come home for the weekend occasionally after a long week of classes, studying, and tests, the best thing is to smell the spices that remind them of their family. Adding dinner with family (and for me personally, my entire extended family) only makes this better. Breaking bread and sharing conversation with family is a universally beloved event and in immigrant families, it is cherished beyond anything else. Our parents know what it’s like to be separated from their families for a long time and the ability to share such moments together serves as a reminder to not take such privileges for granted.
