It pleases my heart that our daughter wanted more bamboo chopsticks. Once acceptable in restaurants but now mostly replaced by sanitized disposables, the China City chopsticks were only a few of the supplies that were divided up when my father and his coworkers closed down the restaurant in Brookline, MA in the 60s. The chopsticks have the restaurant’s name in both English and Chinese printed in Taiwan. They have the restaurant’s address and phone number on them too. Calling for and picking up take-outs was a sizable part of a profitable business. It was a real “Chinese American” restaurant—not honestly authentic Chinese food but an American version of what Chinese food should be.
Growing up American in Boston, I ate Chinese barbecue pork but never knew how to pronounce it in Chinese. The first time I worked as a waiter at China City, I had an order for barbecue pork. In those days, there were no printed order for the cooks or sent to the kitchen via iPads. I had to call out the order in Chinese. I called barbecue pork “chop suey” when it was “char siu!” I was expectedly yelled at, called a “jook sing” meaning a hollow bamboo: Chinese looking on the outside but no Chinese inside. Calling someone a “jook sing” was a derogatory name in Chinese-American settings. I believe I embarrassed my father.
Besides the bamboo chopsticks that I have, I also inherited this stainless steel pail. At China City, the sweet sauce called “duck sauce” in New England was mixed and served to go on egg rolls. This pail has been put to many uses but it’s rooted in the rich heritage of my Chinese-American family history.
The Hollywood theatre released movie, “Crazy Rich Asians” is significantly reminding Asian Americans of our rich cultures and histories. The point of the movie is not about how wealthy these Asians are but about how rich our heritages are in the shaping of who we are today and who we will become tomorrow. Now our son wants us to teach him how to play mah jong.
My family was not rich in possessions but crazily rich and proud of our heritage. I’m proud of the fact that my mother was a seamstress and sewed clothes in factories. I’m proud of my father, a laundryman who washed and pressed shirts for others to look good. He was a waiter who served egg rolls with duck sauce to customers. And he and his coworkers taught me the difference between chop suey and char siu!