Tag Archives: food

Rice and Pimples

Nationality: Taiwanese American
Age: 20
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles
Performance Date: 4/10/2013
Primary Language: English
Language: Mandarin Chinese

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“So when I was little, I was really bad about finishing the food that I ate. […] My mother used to try to convince me to finish my food by telling me that for each grain of rice that I didn’t finish and left in my bowl, I would later on get a pimple and hopefully that’s not true.”

My informant’s mother is from Taiwan. Interestingly, I’ve heard the exact same thing from my own mom, who is also from Taiwan. Its possible that this way of getting kids to finish their rice may have originated somewhere in Taiwan. The country has had a history of food shortages among the lower classes, especially during the Japanese occupation. This piece of folklore may have originated as a way for the older generation who have suffered through food shortages to convince their youngsters (who haven’t experienced famine and don’t understand the importance of eating) by appealing to their vanity.

Smorum (Bohemian Breakfast)

Nationality: Bohemian, 1/4 German
Age: 74
Occupation: Accountant
Residence: Benson, MN
Performance Date: 3/19/13
Primary Language: English

Smorum is a pancake like breakfast dish that my grandpa has cooked for me and my cousins since we can remember. It is a flour based, pancake like breakfast dish. It is his signature dish, and every time any of his grandkids are staying at his house, you can find him in the kitchen at 8am making smorum. I know of no one outside of my family that has ever heard of smorum. I remember in first grade we had to do a project on a family tradition and I did mine on smorum and couldn’t find the correct spelling anywhere because it was only passed down by the performance. It is unclear how to even pronounce or spell the word. My grandpa makes it so much that he doesn’t even use a recipe at all, he knows how much to put in of everything and makes it the same very time even though his measurements might not be exact. The context of this collection is the same as my entries about the world’s smallest church and James McCone except this collection took place in the kitchen as I watched my informant prepare the breakfast. The best way I can describe the process is that it was very casual. He cracked some eggs, tossed some flour loosely into measuring cups and poured it into his big mixing bowl and let it stir while he talked to me. He poured out the mix into a frying pan so it took up the entire pan. After a few minutes he flipped the smorum up in the air, caught it in the man and allowed it to cook the other side. He cuts it into little squares with his spatula, walks over to the kitchen table, and pours the steaming smorum into the big glass bowl sitting on the table. This performance is tradition in our family. Not only is how my grandfather cooks the meal important, but the set up of the table, and how the food is presented to us is tradition. The large white, glass bowl contains the fresh hot smorum, the little tea plates are set out to eat the smorum, and old plastic cups are used to drink either the grape or orange juice that is already set on the table as well. Smorum is always served with syrup, usually homemade by my grandmother.

Story:

Grandpa: “We always had shmudum for breakfast! Poor people’s breakfast. We never had cereal you know in our day. We just made shmudum.

Rebecca: What are the origins of shmudum?

Grandpa: Well in the Spillville cookbook it is spelled smorum, but that’s not how I pronounce it, so I don’t know.

Rebecca: How do you spell it?

Grandpa: S-m-o-r-u-m.

Rebecca: But that’s not how you spell it?

Grandpa: I would have spelled it shmudum. But I couldn’t find the recipe anywhere, I can’t find the spelling anywhere…So I don’t know.

Rebecca: So where did you learn to make it?

Grandpa: From the Spillville Church Cookbook

Rebecca: didn’t you learn it from your mother?

Grandpa: I never knew how my mother made it.

Rebecca: So your mother made it for you?

Grandpa: Yep. She made it for me every morning

Rebecca: what made you want to make it then?

Grandpa: because I tried to once at our house and the grandkids just loved it. And it was a whole lot cheaper than cereal. When we were in Jacksonville (FL) last month, Kenny made it one morning and it was very good. Just like I made it

Rebecca: I heard Kenny is good at it, but its hard to make it just like you. My dad burns it every time. Its not the same if you don’t make it

Rebecca: do you know where your mother learned to make it?

Grandpa: From her mother probably. I’m sure that was handed down for 10 generations or more.

Rebecca: From where? Is that Bohemian?

Grandpa: You know, I thought it was Bohemian but I’m not so sure if it wasn’t German. But I call it Bohemian. You know the Germans infiltrated Bohemia at that point on the border. About 1/3 of Bohemia was German. My dad was Bohemian and my mother was German. Well my mother was both, Bohemiam and German. So I never knew for sure where anything came from. But I always call it Bohemian. And whatever I call, wasn’t anybody going to dispute. (laughter). Because nobody has… support.

My informant learned this dish from his mother, and ate it growing up. It has developed into a huge tradition in my family, and we don’t go a family get together without having smorum in the morning, and my family gets together quite often. It also amazes me how smorum never gets old, no matter how many times I have had it. Smorum is also something that my father and my uncles have tried, but no one can quite make it like my grandfather does. He cooks it just the right amount without burning it, which is often what happened when my father tried to make it. The performance has been adapted since my great grandmother made smorum for my grandfather. My grandfather adapted his performance for the grandchildren. As a grandchild, smorum is very important to me and is an association I make with my grandfather. My grandfather performs it as a sentiment to his childhood, but also for his grandchildren. He continues on the legacy of what his mother made, but adapted it to be a treat for the grandchildren. Smorum started out as a cheap and easy breakfast on the farm, but now is a unique thing that my family all shares.

From the Last Bite, Heroes Are Made.

Nationality: Bulgarian
Age: 46
Occupation: Bookkeeper
Residence: Palos Verdes, CA
Performance Date: March 16, 2013
Primary Language: English
Language: Bulgarian

Proverb: От последната харка, юнаци стават

Transliteration: Ot poclednata hapka, yunaci ctavat.

Translation: From the last bite, heroes are made.

Meaning: You have to finish all the food on your plate, especially the last bite, if you want to be strong.

Analysis:

I have heard this expression used multiple times throughout my childhood at nearly every meal. Whenever I had felt full and did not wish to finish everything on my plate, my grandparents and parents would insist I ate the last few bites, because otherwise I would not be strong as a hero or heroine. I had not heard the expression in a while, as it is reserved for children, but during spring break when I was home with my family, I heard it again when my younger brother, who is twelve, did not want to eat the remainder of his dinner. My mother prodded him to finish off his plate, reminding him that unless he ate everything, (in this case he was lagging on eating his salad), he would become a hero.

The motive behind the phrase is clear: caretakers want the children to eat all healthy components of their meals and be strong, and they encourage them to do so by comparing the kids to heroes. The word for hero, as it’s used inBulgaria, typically refers to the legendary Krali Marko, who was incredibly strong and brave, sort of like a Slavic Superman. Every youngster would hear tales about him and naturally wish to emulate such an incredible man. My grandparents would continue the expression by adding that even the strongest man was once a child, though he was a dutiful one who ate everything on his plate, and thus he became a great hero. It would be very difficult for any young person to refuse this offer, and my brother and I grudgingly ate the remainder of our meals each time we were reprimanded.

I should also note that although the term for hero is masculine in the expression, it would be used universally for both boys and girls. Female children such as myself were encouraged and urged to eat our dinners in their entirety as much as male children.

Food: Bacalhoada

Nationality: American-white, Portuguese, and Brazilian
Age: 19
Occupation: Student
Residence: Los Angeles
Performance Date: April 25, 2013
Primary Language: English
Language: Not fluent in any other languages

My informant told me her grandparents come from the Azores a group of islands off the coast of Portugal. Ever year around Easter, on Good Friday, her grandfather cooks a dish called Bacalhoada. It is basically a dish formulated from potatoes, fish, hard-boiled eggs, olives, onions, and whatever else is available in the kitchen. This tradition comes from the Portuguese sailors. Since they sent a lot of time at sea they didn’t have access to fresh foods. They would catch a whole bunch of fish because they were never sure when get would get more food. So they dried and they would rehydrate them with milk later. For this dish they would have the fish and they would then throw-in any vegetables or food that they happened to find on the ship.  Even during war-time they would take the time to make this dish every Good Friday. According to my informant the recipe varies from year to year. Part of the concept of the dish is to put in whatever you have available. My informant says that she enjoys the tradition because she doesn’t fell she has that many. She enjoys the tradition but not always the food that goes with it.

It is interesting that the informant places more emphasis on the history of the tradition than the food itself. It was probably because she didn’t know the recipe off the top of her head but the history of this dish still seems more important. Especially since the recipe seems to change yearly because that’s how the dish was originally made. That might be why the informant follows the tradition even though she’s not all that keen on the actual food. The history behind this dish gives it importance so not practicing it might seem disingenuous.

Food: German Dumplings

Nationality: American- German, Austrian, Irish
Age: 45
Occupation: Business administrator
Residence: Los Angeles
Performance Date: March 31 2013/ April 21 2013
Primary Language: English
Language: French

German dumplings- In my informant this is a family dish reserved for special occasions, particularly Thanksgiving. He learned this recipe from his mother and he passed it down to his daughters. The recipe is formally written down for convenience but the recipe is taught by example. There is no designated person responsible for making the dumpling it is just whoever volunteers. He says that he feels that dumplings are unique to our heritage and family tradition

Ingredients:Potatoes, Water, Salt

How to make:

Chop potatoes into small cubes.

Blend them in a blender to mush

Place the mush in a cotton rage and squeeze the juice out

Mix with flour and salt

Roll into baseball sized spheres (though the size may vary depending on how big the cook’s hand are)

Boil for thirty minutes until they float on their own

Serve with Chicken gravy

Part of the tradition is making jokes about how dense they are. Here’s a few that the informant told me:

“You can use them for bowling”

“In the Civil War they used them as cannonballs”

“We used them in floods to keep the water away”

“We tried to use them as Christmas ornaments but they pulled the trees down”

“In way back in Austria instead of throwing the first pitch they throw the first dumpling”

I find it fascinating that cooking the dish appears to be the most important part of the tradition. Dumplings are reserved for special occasion, they are jokes that only get told around that time, and children are taught how to make the dish while it’s being prepared. It might be because making the dumplings is so labor intensive. When someone makes dumplings they spend hours in the kitchen peeling, chopping, and blending potatoes. Then there’s the manual labor involved trying to ring out the water. Maybe the jokes and teaching other people came about in order to make the process more fun.