Tag Archives: Folk Food

Bobotie – South African Dish

Age: 52

Collected 4/18/2026

Context:

My mom immigrated from South Africa to California as a child, growing up she was raised mostly as any other American child in the area would have been. But, to help and her siblings connect with their culture and history, her parents would occasionally cook them all bobotie, a traditional south African meat dish that is kind of like a meatloaf.

Text:

My mom explained, that once every two weeks, her parents would cook her and her siblings foods from South Africa. This wasn’t anything special, “just a nice family dinner to give us a taste of home.” One of the most memorable dishes for her growing up was Bobotie. The recipe originates in the lower Cape, but her family was north-east of Johannesburg, quite a ways from the historical origins. The recipe, as she explained, was fairly common in South Africa; they used a printed poster brought with them when they immigrated, which listed the ingredients and instructions. She says, “that poster is probably still somewhere in their family house.” But, back when her parents were cooking (this was 30-40 years ago) things like curry powder and chutney weren’t available at your local grocery store. So, her parents had to substitute other ingredients. For example, one that she remembered was substituting apricot jam for the chutney. Her family also commonly used raisins, bananas and other fruits to add to the sweet profile of the dish. To her this was normal, but back then, fruits and meat weren’t a common combination in American cuisines. She wasn’t embarrassed though, as she told me “it does remind you that you’re different, but that’s just a thing our family.” For her and her family, it was a way to connect with their roots and pass on some of that identity to my mom and her siblings who grew up primarily in America.

One funny memory my mom mentioned is that her family would sometimes serve the Bobotie to her friends when they stayed over. To most kids, this was a really strange (never-before-seen food). So, to mess with them, my mom and her parents would tell the kids they’re eating elephant stew, which surprisingly worked. Most of the friends she remembered trying it thought it was tasty and quite exotic.

She never really got to try the original until much later in life when visiting her “home town” in South Africa, but by that point, the California Bobotie was the norm. So, when she tried the real thing, she was kinda disappointed. Funny enough, “it didn’t taste nostalgic or like home because it was different.” She can’t remember whether her parents told her that they were substituting ingredients or not, but it didn’t matter. Because to her, the substitutions were the dish.

Analysis:

Before I go into my analysis, I should note my perspective. I grew up with similar cultural exposure. Especially from my mom’s side of the family and my cousins. So, to me some of these things were normal. I wasn’t eating weird foods, but also, I wasn’t raised with as much influence as she was. So to me, these things are somewhat normal, but also somewhat foreign.

One thing from this story that interests me is how the substitutions were forced by a necessity. The ingredients just didn’t exist in common grocery stores, so her family had to create their own “spin” on the dish, which I’m sure wasn’t uniquely their substitution. After a quick Google search, it looks like substituting the chutney is a fairly common thing to do. So many other families in similar situations might have made similar adaptations or substitutions when bringing the food here. My Oupa and Ouma weren’t degrading the dish or making it any less, they were adapting it to their environment so that that culture might continue to exist in their children.

As mentioned, my mom grew up mostly like any other American child. But small things like this are examples of how her parents allowed her to grow up in a new environment while maintaining that cultural identity and connection. And to that effect it worked. She doesn’t remember much else of what they did that was South African, maybe because whatever they did was just “normal” to her growing up that was all she saw. But, seeing and tasting a different food definitely resonated with her.

It’s also so funny that they all leaned into the weird or exotic food aspect. That really sounds in character for my Ouma to mess with someone like that. They didn’t hide the food when friends came over, instead they made it seem exotic by using the unfamiliarity of it. Also, it kind of flipped the roles. Typically, I would have pictured my mom to be embarrassed or nervous for her friends judging the food, but the joke reverses that idea, allowing my family to hold the power in the situation. They’re in on the joke, the other kid, not so much.

But, by far the most interesting piece to me is how my mom mentions that the California Bobotie was just Bobotie. To her, the substitution and “odd” recipe is what she grew up with, so trying the “real thing” felt weird. This shows that there is no one way to do something; instead, it’s in the cultural context and shared meaning that makes it the “right way” or normal. It’s all about perception and experience. The authenticity and connection to the food come from repeated experiences, not just the origin. This highlights the loose boundaries that can make it difficult to categorize or “own” folklore.

This raises a serious question we’ve asked in class. What makes folklore genuine? Well, my mom’s experience would suggest that authenticity is not about adherence, but about shared value and experience. To her, the California Bobotie was more authentic and genuine than any traditional Bobotie could ever be.

Korean military folk food: ppogeuri

Text

Ppogeuri (뽀글이) is a slang name for instant ramen that Korean soldiers often eat. The food has to be eaten at a specific time, and that is late night after a soldier comes back from night watch. What makes ppogeuri different from regular instant ramen is that because cup noodles weren’t available during the time my informant was a soldier, they had to use the plastic packaging the instant noodles came in as the cooking pot and plate. With no kettle and hot water only being available during shower times, you would have use cold water and put the packaging near a radiator to actually boil and cook it. With Korean culture’s emphasis on age and the strict environment Korean soldiers train in, my informant talked about how only sergeants were allowed to secretly make this dish after night watch. The only time he ate ppogeuri as a lower-ranked personnel was when he was a private and one of his superiors allowed him to have a bite, which he described that first bite as heavenly.

Context

The informant is a 51 year man born and raised in South Korea. As a South Korean male, he was required to serve in the military, and he served in the Korean army from October 1994~ December 1996 after his freshman year in college. This topic came up when we were talking about military food, when I told him about my worries for food quality at my military training center for ROTC. He first saw this folk food when he was coming back from his first night watch as a private, when one of the superiors he was standing watch with cooked ppogeuri as a late night snack. Even after his discharge, he said he tried cooking instant noodles the same way but said the noodles tasted raw and the soup was chalky. His interpretation of this dish is that it can only be enjoyed by people who went through the same military experience – during his service, when barracks were old, cramped, and soldiers often trained hungry, soldiers could at least count on ppogeuri to fill their stomachs after a grueling shift of night watch.

Analysis

Based on what I learned, my takeaway from this folklore is that ppogeuri is a vernacular folk dish that can only exist under specific, strict constraints. To start, its preparation method was created due to the lack of cooking tools on base, and can only be eaten by superior ranks while lower ranks can only hungrily watch or stand lookout. In this way, ppogeuri symbolizes the hierarchal nature of militaries, where even simple acts like cooking ramen is denied. However, just like my informant’s first experience with the dish, when a lower-ranked personnel is allowed a bite, this goes beyond an act of kindness – it creates an unforgettable moment of bond as one individual directly contradicts the system he’s supposed to blindly follow for a fellow soldier. Finally, the timing of when one eats ppogeuri, which is after a long night of watch, reflects the shared struggle a folk group (soldiers in this case) go through. As such, it may not even be a stretch to say that one way to identify membership within the folk group of Korean soldiers is if one has ever ate and enjoyed ppogeuri under these same conditions. All in all, ppogeuri is a reminder of how folk dishes can be crafted from creativity that is developed to get around constraints. At an individual level, I believe ppogeuri holds a great personal value for former Korean veterans, as it is a dish that symbolizes the strict system they adapted to during their youth, while being a source of comfort and nostalgia they can look back on.

Chitlins & Sals in Southern Food

Main Piece:

Me: So, what are these foods that you’re describing?

DH: Uhm… Sals is leftover pig parts— I don’t know what parts specifically. Uhm, it’s good… Chitlins is really more of a Southern delicacy now, but it used to be… I’m pretty sure that’s just pig intestines and all that, right?

Me: I believe so. Yeah.

DH: So, the reason that black people eat that is, you know, back in slavery, the owner would give you whatever they had left… You gotta eat something… I’ve never eaten chitlins, but…

Me: Have you had family members who have eaten it?

DH: My dad. Uhm, mostly every family gathering—you know like Christmas, Thanksgiving—they’re gonna have that at somebody’s house.

Me: … It’s interesting too, because I’m pretty sure my mom eats chitlins as well and so does my dad, occasionally.

DH: It’s really more of like a Southern thing.

Me: It’s interesting how it’s evolved in that way.

Context:

This was performed over FaceTime with one of my best friends from high school, who is African-American. She lives in Brandon, Mississippi, a small town right next to the state capital of Jackson and is a freshman studying Communications at Copiah-Lincoln Community College.

Analysis:

As my friend said, this most likely derives from Slavery Era practices in the American South. When slave masters were finished with their meals, they would give the scraps to their slaves. This included all the undesirable parts of a pig, and so this adaptation to ‘eating anything’ and making the most out of a bad situation was most likely necessary for survival. It was probably passed down through generations and developed as a cultural delicacy amongst black southerners. This is evidence to how people take traumatic experiences from their collective histories and evolve it into a way of embracing one’s past and culture. It has now developed more as a general Southern delicacy, right along the line with gizzards. Food that is so rich in history like this, that was once used as a way of division, is now being used as a point of connection amongst communities.

See more on ‘Ethnic Folklore’ below:

Oring, Elliott. “Ethnic Groups and Ethnic Folklore.” In Folk Groups and Folklore Genres: An Introduction, edited by E. Oring, 23-44.Logan: Utah State University Press, 1986.

The Mythical Plant: Kalo

Nationality: American
Age: 21
Occupation: Student
Performance Date: 4/25/20
Primary Language: English

Abstract: A mythical plant that is known as Kalo in Hawaiin but as Taro in English. This plant is named after mother earth known as Papa and the Sky Father Wakea which are two of the most important entities in Hawaii. This planet is a great delicacy for the people of the island and is known as the Polynesian people’s most diverse plant since it was able to feed all ages. The story of the son of the two deities was Kalo in fact and he was stillborn so his parents decided to bury him in the ground. The burial of their sun brought his mother to tears which hit the soil where he was buried and a plant began to grow where he was buried. 

Background: DM is a student at the University of Southern California who is a native Hawaiin and grown up with many Hawaiin tales to explain how her place of living came to be. She finds great interest in the history of her island She grew up her entire life in Hawaii and with that, has heard a lot of folklore. Unfortunately, she doesn’t remember when she first heard these stories After reading about famous Hawaiin Folklore, I saught to ask her about what she knows about her Island and its origins. 

Transcript:

P: So tell me about some of the foods or ingredients of the food that you think is significant.

DM: There is a plant that many Hawaiin finds to be important and also used in many delicacies, Kalo. Kalo is the origin of Hawaiin culture it feels like such as there is this lau lau where people roast a pig that is wrapped in Kalo leaves. If you pull the Kalo plant from the ground its root is very nutritious and used to make this paste known as Poi and its purple. This plant has a bigger significance than just being a widely used ingredient, its also named after the children of two entities which are Mother Earth and the Sky Father, Papa, and Wakea. They have some kids and one of them is named Kalo and this child died right when he was born which is so sad. Papa then buried the child and cried after she finished burying Kalo. From her tears, it added nutrients to the soil, and the plant known as Kalo grew. 

Interpretation: 

Kalo is the physical incarnation of nature and being a person of the earth. This myth shows the importance of Nature to the Hawaiin and how they personify all of its elements in an effort to protect nature. This is mainly shown with the connection between Kalo the son being born from the two deities of nature and being the main source of food for the Hawaiin’s. This story has the theme of giving as the deity of earth Kalo used her son to produce a powerful substance to feed the people of Hawaii and also present a symbol of nature to them. One could say that true Hawaiin values nature over most in order to preserve the Islands they live and the deities who protect them and the Island they inhabit. For more on the legend of Kalo, you can read this article: Scroggins, Dan. “The Hawaiian Creation Legend and Taro.” The Real Hawai’i, 10 Mar. 2016, therealhawaiitours.com/hawaiian-creation-legend-taro/.

Traditional Armenian Dish

Nationality: Russian Armenian
Age: 27
Occupation: Artist
Residence: Pasadena
Performance Date: 4/4/2020
Primary Language: English
Language: Russian

Պասուց Տոլմա

Transliteration: Pasus Tolma

Translation: Lent’s Stuffed cabbage

Description: Pasus Tolma is a popular Armenian dish which is a lent classic meal that most Armenians eat not only for lent but also year round. Pasus Tolma can be see seen on the table’s of any Armenian gatherings such as birthdays, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, and other gatherings, but it is the most popular dish before Easter when people are on the lent diet. Pasus Tolma is cabbage leaves stuffed with beans, lentil’s, garbanzo beans and bulgar. Best served cold.

Background Information: Pasus Tolma is a popular traditional Armenian dish prepared primarily for lent but can be served at many different gatherings.

Context: The informant told me about this dish during a video call in which I asked her to tell me about an Armenian traditional recipe that she knows about.

Thoughts: As an Armenian I am also aware of this dish and have participated in its consumption during lent. The name Pasus Tolma literally translates as a Lent version of Tolma which is a popular Armenian dish that is comprised of cabbage leaves stuffed with meat. I understand why this dish would be used in lent as Georgian Christians do not eat meat during lent so they had to make a vegetarian version of the popular dish Tolma. This is a folk religious tradition/recipe because it is not an official meal for lent. It was made by the people as a way to find something to eat during lent. It is also folklore because of its multiplicity and variation. Some versions use rice instead of bulgar and other iterations have different legumes instead of garbanzo beans and lentils.