More Confessions of a Hostie Read Online Free PDF Page B

in the U.S. once, and they were having a month-long celebration of bacon products, called ‘Baconalia’. Though I found it odd, I was also amused to find many bacon-worshippers from all over the country dropping into the joint. One of the promotional dishes served was bacon ice-cream sundae: ice-cream sprinkled with bacon chips. I refused to give it a try.
    Some food should never have chunks of meat or seafood in it. They should pass a law to make ice-cream vegetarian-only.
    See, not all ice-cream is good. And not all shopping is good. And there ends my ice-cream analogy: there is not much of a connection there, but I have enjoyed sharing some of the weird and not-so-wonderful flavours from around the world.
    When I am in other countries, I don’t really have a choice regarding the hotels I stay in – our company decides that for us – but luckily I do have a choice regarding the food I eat. I love to eat, and I love to travel. These two passions are intertwined, and I try as far as possible to experience the local cuisine. When I am in Japan, I eat Japanese food (except seafood ice-cream, of course); when I am in Bangkok, I eat Thai; in Germany, I eat schnitzels; in Italy, I eat pasta and so on. I am constantly baffled at the number of tourists who spend massive amounts of time and money to travel to exotic destinations but then seek out the same type of food they eat at home. Worse still, they prejudge a country’s food by the often miserable imitations they have eaten before.
    I have never seen sweet and sour pork in mainland China, nor pizza with pineapple in Italy. Authenticity is important when it comes to cuisine, and you can’t get more authentic than eating dishes in the country of origin.
    Many major cities around the world are home to sizeable immigrant populations that bring with them delicious authentic food. The food is not so good, however, if the restaurant or café is run by someone belonging to a different nationality than that of the food being served. Outside of Japan, plenty of Japanese restaurants are run by Chinese and, conversely, the occasional Chinese restaurant is run by non-Chinese. The food is rarely good.
    I recently saw a restaurant in the U.S. that boasted of serving authentic African cuisine. Africa is a big place. The distance from Tangier, in Morocco, to Cape Town, in South Africa, is over five times more than the distance from London to Rome. Yet, we don’t compare tortellini with Yorkshire pudding. This so-called ‘authentic African cuisine’ featured dishes from what looked like two or three north African countries. When I looked through the kitchen window, out of curiosity, I saw Asian staff and what appeared to be a Mexican chef. Multiculturalism is a good thing, but not in a restaurant that boasts of serving authentic regional food. Eating exotic food in such places is much like reading a travel book and claiming you’ve been around the world.
    Similarly, I was in a food court in Los Angeles not long ago and noticed something odd: almost half of L.A.’s population is now Hispanic, particularly Mexican. Subsequently there are Mexican restaurants everywhere, and they are usually pretty good. In this particular food court the only Mexican food outlet had Asian staff. I can only imagine how Mexican the food must have tasted.
    When I eat dishes from another culture I want the food to be cooked with passion and patriotism, not commercialism. Nothing beats eating regional cuisine in the actual region from where it has originated. When I get to Japan, I’ll be having gyozas, ramen, sushi and a healthy serving of satisfaction.
    I am truly excited about going to Japan. If it weren’t for the fact that I still feel tired and am beginning to dread the hellishly long flight to get there, I would be more excited. Who am I kidding – I’m still excited.

it’s a balancing act
    My excitement levels for my upcoming Japan trip are