"Chinese restaurants changed or evolved over time. Chinese immigrants from Guangdong province started 'chow chows' around the mid-1800s to serve familiar Cantonese dishes that fit the tastes of their countrymen. These restaurants were located in 'Chinatowns' near large populations of Chinese, their primary source of customers. They held limited appeal to most non-Chinese when they first appeared.
In the transition to the industrialized society of the last half of the 19th century, a restaurant industry grew rapidly as more people lived in cities than in rural areas. However, most whites did not patronize Chinese cafes frequently, if at all. They generally viewed foreign foods as strange and odd. Few had any interest in eating dishes served by Chinese cafes and restaurants.
However, from the late 1890s to the early 1900s, a surprising reversal of fortune took place for Chinese restaurants. . . . Even with little or no promotion by the Chinese, their cafes were 'discovered' by adventuresome white diners and the ensuing publicity widened their popularity among non-Chinese. Prejudices against Chinese immigrants were still strong, but their cuisine was gaining favor. Restaurants soon became one of the primary forms of self-employment among Chinese. In Chinatowns, newer, larger, and more elegantly decorated dining facilities were built to attract and accommodate the growing demand. Partnerships involving both active and silent investors raised capital for the expensive startup costs of remodeling and refurbishing existing facilities or building new ones and for the expenses of hiring numerous cooks, waiters, kitchen helpers, and other staff."
-- John Jung,
Sweet and Sour: Life in Chinese Family Restaurants
As an American in South Korea I definitely get strong hunger pangs or cravings once in a while for things you might expect -- stinky cheeses (Korea only does sliced American singles), great pizza (you can find good pizza here, but never great), and purely local memory-foods like Maryland-style boiled blue crabs, served with drawn butter and
cans of cold beer, never bottles or pitchers. I miss American style barbecues as well, either Carolina or Texas versions. (But if I could only eat Korean style barbecues the rest of my life I'd still die pretty happy.)
What's strange to me are my monthly or so craving for fake-ass, deeply inauthentic Chinese-American food. I'm talking chicken wings atop greasy fried rice, beef over egg noodles, or oily egg rolls that have been sitting under a heat lamp for half-a-day too long, lathered in packets of hot mustard and duck sauce.
Brains and stomachs and human memories are curious things.
Oh, and on certain weekend mornings I'd probably murder your grandma for a good bagel with cream cheese and unctuous lox. That's just a complete non-starter here.
Anyhow,
Sweet and Sour was a surprisingly good read.