Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Japan, Vegetarianism, and Perfection

Libby Dulski
9/27/16
Reading Response #5
A Cook’s Tour


            I found the second half of A Cook’s Tour by Anthony Bourdain to be just as intriguing as the first half of the book. Bourdain’s very human and connectable voice continued to shine through the pages of his book. In the chapter “Tokyo Redux,” Bourdain’s voice is evident as he heads to the Nibiki restaurant to eat Fugu. Fugu is a deadly puffer fish and a delicacy in Japan. Bourdain explains that “you must be licensed by the state- after a long and comprehensive course of training and examination- to prepare and service it. It can kill you” [153]. Bourdain wanted to have an exhilarating near-death experience while eating Fugu. However, Bourdain is disappointed by the meal as he was expecting it to be thrilling. One can hear his voice clearly as he described that “had I not been expecting a brain-bending, lip-numbing, look-the-devil-in-the-face dining adventure, I would have been thrilled with the meal” (155). Always wanting adventure and danger in his pursuit to the perfect meal, he is dismayed to find that what he is eating is perfectly safe.
On a somewhat related note, while in Japan, Bourdain got to witness sumo wrestling. He describes what they eat: “Old-school chanko cuisine, four-legged creatures were rarely served, the idea being that sumo wrestlers who use all four limbs during a fight have lost the fight. Chicken- which stand on two feet, like a good wrestler- and fish were the preferred main ingredients” (158). Just like Bourdain, I assumed that the wrestlers would be eating a fat-filled diet. However, this is not the case as they eat well, often, and they sleep in between meals.
I am glad that towards the end of the book, Bourdain talks about vegetarianism. I am thrilled that he mentions that “our basic design features as humans, from the beginnings of our evolution, developed around the very real need to hunt down slower, stupider animals, kill them and eat them” (239-240). I make this argument whenever my best friend, a devout vegan, tells me that I should also become a vegan or at the very least a vegetarian. While people all over the world are starving, I get preached at to eat less meat. Some people would kill for a crispy chicken finger or a rack of ribs, yet all I get are scary stories of where that crispy chicken finger came from, or how the cow I am scarfing down probably had a family. Ha, good luck convincing me.

I liked how Bourdain ended his book. In every chapter, I was searching to see if Bourdain would clarify his definition of the “perfect meal.” And, in the last chapter, I finally got to see what his thoughts on “perfect” were. He says that, “The whole concept of the ‘perfect meal’ is ludicrous” (272). He summarizes what he means by perfect by stating that “when you’re shivering under four blankets in a Moroccan hotel room, the perfect meal can be something no more exotic than breakfast at Barney Greengrass back in New York- the one you had four months ago” (272). I thought that Bourdain was actually in pursuit of the “perfect meal,” but really there are going to be many seemingly perfect meals.

Sunday, September 25, 2016

The Perfect Meal

Libby Dulski
9/25/16
Reading Response #4
Anthony Bourdain: A Cook’s Tour

            Throughout A Cook’s Tour Anthony Bourdain is searching for the seemingly “perfect meal.” In his conquest to find the perfect meal, Bourdain and his brother Chris head to southwest France where he and Christ had spent much of their childhood. After eating “a baguette, a croissant, and a brioche, eager to try it all, to see if it tasted the same” (35) as it did in their youth, Bourdain does not feel the excitement that he thought he would experience. He describes that there was “something holding [him] back. The baked goods, after all this time, were identical in taste and appearance. The shop smelled just as it had twenty-eight years ago. But something was missing” (35). Later in the chapter Bourdain realizes that he hadn’t returned to France for the “fish soup, or the saucisson, or the pain raisin. It wasn’t to see a house in which strangers now lived, or to climb a dune, or to find a perfect meal I’d come to find my father. And he wasn’t there” (46). Bourdain had claimed that he was in pursuit of the perfect meal throughout the trip to France, but he was unable to enjoy himself because in the back of his mind he knew that the trip was for his father. Bourdain wanted to capture the presence of this father. He repeatedly mentions that his father would have loved the trip. Behind his conquest for the perfect meal, Bourdain really just wanted his father to be with him experiencing the different foods, and experiencing the things that thrilled him in his childhood.
            For me, Bourdain’s pursuit of the perfect meal in Russia was the most intriguing. Bourdain suggests taking Zamir out for a nice meal. They go to a restaurant where their waitress is constantly watching them to make sure they are drinking enough. The difference between waiters in America and Russia was surprisingly unalike. Zamir at one point tells Bourdain that the waitress is concerned with their table because she said they were not drinking enough vodka. Bourdain contrasts this by adding: “Try to imagine this happening in an American restaurant or bar. Your waiter comes to your table and says he doesn’t think you are consuming enough booze, and you need more alcohol, and you need to consume it quickly” (96). Russia’s culture around food is that one would consume large amounts of alcohol with food. On the opposite end of the spectrum, people out for dinner at a nice restaurant in America probably would not want to get “smashed.” One line from this scene that particularly stood out to me was when the waitress arrived at Bourdain and Zamir’s table to admonish them. She said, “You will both be considered traitors to your countries and your people if you do not drink more!” (97). Once again, trying to imagine a waiter saying this to someone at a fancy dinner in America is unthinkable, but drinking is an ingrained part of culture in Russia and is part of dinner culture.


            

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Identity

Libby Dulski
9/21/16
Reading Response #3
Stealing Buddha’s Dinner Ch. 10- Finish

Bich’s identity is a constant theme throughout Stealing Buddha’s Dinner. Bich idolizes her older sisters Anh and Crissy as they are naturally beautiful and popular. Crissy would never allow Bich to socialize with her and her older friends, yet one day she allows Bich to tag along. On this particular day, Crissy prepares “tests” for Bich to partake in. One of these tests involved eating a stick of rhubarb covered in sugar. Another one of these tests is when Crissy rolls a ball of mushed bread in honey and urges the other girls to do the same. Nguyen describes that there is “something repulsive, something gruesome, about breaking down the bread. I wanted it to stay firm and spongy… Crissy took in my frozen stance with another eye-roll. “You’re such a wimp,” she sighed” (133-134). This was a major turning point for Bich: In that moment, she knew that she would never follow after Crissy again. Sure, Bich could look up to Crissy and Anh and revel in their beauty, but she would never want to be part of Crissy’s group. Nguyen describes this turning point as “such a small thing- a stalk of rhubarb, a ball of bread and honey. Yet it’s stark in my mind as a moment of withholding. A moment of dissent, marking myself as the one who would not go along, into the club of girlhood” (134). It is clear that in this moment Bich decides that her fate as an outsider is her own choosing. She will stay with her books and unruly hair instead of following her sister’s cigarettes and makeup.

            In the “Salt Pork” chapter, Nguyen describes how she fell in love with reading. She describes reading as “the only thing to call [her] own. Reading was [her] privacy” (150). In particular, Bich feels a connection to the Little House books. At one point she “began to pretend that bacon was salt pork and that [she] was Laura herself. She was short and small like [Bich]” (158). Unable to find connections with people in her real life, Bich looks for connections with people in her books. She finds this connection as she describes the Ingalls: “In many ways, their pioneer life reminded me of immigrant life. As they search for new homesteads, they, too, experience isolation and the scramble for shelter, food, work, and a place to call home” (159). Yet as much as Bich finds a connection with Laura Ingalls, she cannot help but resent some of the other characters. As Bich grows older and continues to read the Little House books, she notices that the Ingallses were extremely religious and reminded her of the Vander Wals. The Ingalls were also racist which is upsetting for Bich. Even though Bich searches for a connection with this all-American white family, she cannot help but feel distain for the family as she does not share the same beliefs as the family. However, as much as she resents some of the characters and ideas in these books, Bich could not help but wish that she could be like the protagonists in the books; she longs to be all-American.