Whenever I've had the chance to talk to refugees and immigrants at length, we get around to talking about food. It's an easy topic that avoids present worries, politics, religion, or other controversies. Yet food is meaningful and almost everyone has an interest in American food, shopping, sources for their native foods, names of foods, methods of preparation, and the like. With additional conversations it leads to foods their kids eat, what they eat now, what brought them to the US, how were they finding life, what were their biggest challenges.
The Oh My God moment happens when someone pushes to the very limits her English language abilities in an attempt to convey the memory of a missed food to me, the listener. During this time the describer invariably gives a lead-up, explaining the food, the recipe, the dish consists of this or that and was eaten long ago or just the other day. Then the smile comes across her face and the eyeballs roll — the OMG moment. As if to say, It's so, so good, words just can't describe it! How I wish, wish, wish you could understand what I mean.
And of course, I know exactly what they mean, because in that moment they've just transcended all the worries and problems the English language presents to them, all the obstacles they've encountered living in a cramped apartment, every frustration they've ever experienced trying to get a medical form translated or telephone bill decoded.
At that point I know I've found someone worthy of the DATS MashUp cooking collaboration.
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