Happy Birthday TianTian

      Last week was my Chinese sister, TianTian’s birthday. In the six weeks that I’ve lived here, I’ve learned a lot about the importance and tradition of food to my Chinese family, and I thought TianTian’s birthday was the perfect opportunity to take her out and show her how I appreciate food. After a year I spent in France, there was no doubt in my mind what type food should be her introduction into Western food. French food has a special place in my heart, and I was sure it would prove a competitive match for Chinese food, both in taste and tradition. After a bit of searching, I found the perfect French restaurant: La Brasserie Flo. I invited my friend, Stephanie, and her Chinese sister to join us, so we two Americans set off to show our sisters the meaning of hěn hăo chī in the West.

      We were greeted at the door in French by an obvious native speaker who assured us of the genuine French ambiance. It was a little more upscale than we had expected, and our sisters immediately started insisting that it was a far too expensive invitation. Only after we guilefully told them that our fathers had insisted we treat our sisters to somewhere nice, to show them our gratitude, would they sit down. The first few minutes were a little awkward with silence, until Stephanie and I realized why they were studying the napkins and utensils so intently. "We don’t know how to use those", my sister finally stuttered, pointing at the polished silverware and fan-shaped green cloth. Stephanie and I choked back our giggles as we showed them how to place a napkin on your lap and properly hold a fork. As we were doing so, the waiter brought to the table a basket of warm bread rolls and butter, which were received by four pairs of eyes popping out of their respective heads. Stephanie and I were overcome with joy. Our mouths watered as we reacquainted ourselves with this Western convention, while our sisters’ eyes widened with curiosity, giving special attention to the butter we piled on continuously.

      Ordering was a nightmare. We were each handed a menu, which already seemed foreign to our sisters, who were accustomed to Chinese restaurants, where traditionally, one person orders food for everyone. Even though the menu was translated into Chinese, as well as English, the transcribed descriptions made no sense to them. What is warm, young goose liver spread onto seasoned bread with a warm béarnaise sauce? And how can one relate the splendor of foie gras in an appetizing way to one who has never heard of it? It was very hard, so Stephanie and I ended up ordering for our sisters, guessing what they might like. We decided to play it safe with French onion soup, thinly sliced tuna on a bed of lettuce, and a steak.

      The speed of the service was another cultural difference I had to explain. In China, five minutes after you order, the first dishes are already in front of you, and shortly afterward, while you’re still eating the first courses, the second courses arrive. The concept of waiting at least fifteen to twenty before and between courses seemed outrageous to them. When the soups arrived our sisters stared in disgust at the thick, gunk-like layer of cheese floating on top. They were very polite and had a few spoonfuls, but then pushed it to the side. The tuna was no luckier. Our two sisters were accustomed to seeing a full fish, head, skin and tail, and were convinced that the dark, red slices of tuna were pieces of uncooked meat. Stephanie and I found all of it too amusing to be offended. When the steak and French fries came out we regained confidence in discerning proper choices for our sisters. The girls easily recognized the dish as cow meat, and especially liked seeing the French fries. Previously the only Western food they had been exposed to had been McDonalds. After giving them a lesson on how to cut their meat, TianTian began to eagerly saw off a bite. Just as I was approving of the perfectly pink, medium rare steak that had been prepared, TianTian let out a muffled shriek. "There’s blood coming out of it, warm blood oozing out of my meat!" Stephanie and I almost peed in our pants with laughter, remembering the same fear we tried steak for the first time back in elementary school. It took a lot of convincing, but eventually TianTian accepted that it was actually a marinated, cooking juice, and was able to enjoy her meal. However, I do wonder if, after we had to rush out of the cab, because of her upset stomach, she still believed me.

      The meal may not have gained my Chinese sister’s admiration and understanding of Western culinary customs, but by flip-flopping my point of view, I was able to see myself during my first few weeks in China with a new perspective. I realized that I see her just as different from me, as she sees me different from her. This acknowledgement of differences that we share is, in itself, something that we have in common. By recognizing this, through these types of situations, a stronger sense of appreciation for each other’s differences is created.