By Assunta Ng
Northwest Asia Weekly
Thanksgiving dinner prepared by Tracy Luu
Most Asian immigrants call Thanksgiving Day Turkey Day, and they will tell you that they hate turkey. When raising my children born in the United States, I was one of them.
When my kids were young, they would beg me to make turkey on Thanksgiving, or at least once a year. I will find one excuse after another—too much work—too much time to cook (especially a big turkey). That damn bird is not tasty. Like many Chinese immigrants, chicken is always my first choice meat in festivals and any celebrations. It takes a lot of work to make the turkey taste delicious, and it takes hours to bake in the oven because it needs slow heating and is huge. The bird itself has a rough texture. If overcooked, the meat feels like leather.
I remember cooking turkey no more than five or six times in the past five years. Only a few times have I been very satisfied with the results. The reason is that I don’t have enough experience to do a good job. The meat and skin taste great, including glutinous rice and Chinese sausages and all kinds of delicious fillings. But the skin is not crispy enough, the meat is dried and it is a bit overcooked. Chinese cooking requires that the birds be cooked just right. It should not be overcooked. I tend to overcook the turkey because it is too big to judge.Now you have all kinds of
Tools, such as a thermometer, can be placed on the turkey to make it cook perfectly.
But the turkey I remember most is not made by me. This is not the kind I like, although it is cooked perfectly, the juices in it are intact, and the meat is of good quality. The filling is a typical American filling, mixed with breadcrumbs, onions, celery, herbs and a lot of butter.
This is my first turkey in the United States. My host family invited me to their Thanksgiving dinner. They came to pick me up the day before so I can stay and spend the weekend with them. I don’t know what Thanksgiving is.
Everyone at the party thought I knew Thanksgiving, an American tradition that dates back to the 16th century.
My host mother spent a whole day preparing the day before Thanksgiving and that morning. The menu also includes three pies-apple, chopped and pumpkin. Everything is in order and there is no chaos. This is a 25-pound turkey. She put the turkey in an oven over 100º before going to bed. Before noon the next day, the bird was finished. Just before breakfast (around 4 pm), we are ready for the feast. What I have observed is that the turkey always looks spectacular from the outside, but once I open my mouth and take the first bite, it is usually very disappointing. My master father carved out the white meat of the turkey neatly and placed it on a beautiful plate. Where is all the black meat? Where are the delicious chicken legs or wings? I hope they haven’t thrown them away. I don’t eat white meat, and my family has never eaten it when raising me in Hong Kong. We use all the chicken white meat to make the soup.
“Should I eat or not?” I asked myself.
Of course, I did it. I don’t want to hurt the feelings of the host family. I ended up eating very little turkey. How about the filling or gravy? Thank you, but no thanks. But I ate a large piece of apple pie with ice cream to relieve my hunger. This is why when my children asked me to make turkey in the first place, I was not so passionate.
Over the years, I couldn’t help but blame myself. Why don’t I ask the host family for the black meat of turkey? Why didn’t I tell the truth? I was only 19 years old at the time, and I was not that confident. I just know it’s best not to annoy anyone, especially my American host family. I appreciate their kindness.
I never found out what they did to black meat or turkey bones. I should ask. If they want to give them to their dog or throw it away, I should taste some of them. It will be delicious to have lunch or dinner in my dorm next week. But I was too timid to ask for what I wanted. The challenge is how to get what you want without offending anyone or making them feel underestimated. In hindsight, I should turn it into an interesting cultural exchange on the table.
“I just want to know, Mom (she asked me to call her mother), what are you going to do with dark meat?”
If she says, “Give it to the dog later,” I can say, “Oh, can I have some? I also like dark meat.”
If she said, “I will use it for a salad tomorrow,” I can say, “Can I eat some now? I prefer black meat to white meat.”
She might say, “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” That would be the perfect scene. Sometimes, it’s not difficult to reverse the situation.
All we have to do is open our mouths and be honest with each other. In most cases, we don’t, just let things slip. Speaking to the right people at the right time and in the right place requires intuition, courage and practice. If we do not, we will shorten ourselves by not getting what we want, and at the same time, build up misunderstandings and malice. sad!
Assunta can be reached assunta@nwasianweekly.com.
