The 2019 winner of the International Association of Culinary Professionals Best Book of the Year in Food Matters. Korean edition of You and I Eat the Same: On the Countless Ways Food and Cooking Connect Us to One Another, edited by Chris Ying, with forward by Ren� Redzepi, the first volume of MAD Dispatches. A collection of essays and short stories on how food, rather than being something that separates, actually brings people and cultures together.
A spectacular essay anthology highlighting food and cooking culture as the common threads that draw humans together. Essays range from differences in table etiquette, ubiquity of certain condiments and flatbreads, how fires burn and are used in different kinds of cooking, the misnomer of "ethnic" foods, and many other topics.
These topics lend themself easily to a larger discussion on trade, immigration, and communication. "Does eating other people's food make us more open to engaging with them?" essayist Krishnendu Ray asks in his essay Cultural Difference Makes a Difference.
This book was compiled by Chris Ying, a Danish organizer for the nonprofit MAD, that focuses on food and cooking as cultural exchange. While based in Copenhagen, Denmark, the book is a global book with thoughtful essays and beautiful photography.
I am not at all surprised that this book was named one of the Best Food Books of the Year by The New Yorker, Smithsonian, etc. I absolutely loved it. Yes, I’m predisposed to love foodie books but this one was brilliant. In the introduction by Chris Ying there’s a line stating that this essay collection can be dipped in and out of, but I blew this this book from cover to cover in two days even while savoring the gorgeous photography, the intelligent paragraphs, and the rabbit holes of thought it led me through. I loved every single contribution it contained and dog-eared so many pages to come back to that it has grown twice as thick.
Most food books are about differences, but this one breaks the mold and celebrates the similarities while seeped in history, science (just wait until you read the essay titled Your Fire and My Fire Burn the Same), anthropology, socio-economics, straight-up economics, and so much more.
A few selects from the ‘too many to mention’ dog-eared pages:
Much Depends on How You Hold Your Fork: “I’ve been robbed and sexually harassed. But I could not think of a single instance of witnessing someone behaving really badly while eating – grabbing food, burping, shoveling food into their mouth with their hands, yelling for more. Eating etiquette is apparently more strongly ingrained than religion or morality.”
Culinary Differences Make A Difference: “In American and other predominantly white countries, a discussion about culinary appropriation has erupted in recent years. Fierce debate has arisen over what it means to eat food originally imagined by one race or ethnicity but cooked by another – such as, say, tacos being prepared by a white chef and sold to predominantly white customers in a fine dining setting. This debate is important because it engages with the question of power in the making of a culture.”
There is No Such Thing as an Ethnic Restaurant: “German food was not only accepted, but certain items became sufficiently popular to regard as American… something that never happened with chop suey, tacos, or even pizza.”
Not a recipe book, but a collection of essays by different contributors towards the theme defined in the subtitle. Could have been a trivia book, but it's much more philosophical than that. Even though I'm not a foodie, I'm finding myself reading almost (but not quite) every word.
For example, the essay on fried chicken is especially enlightening... I knew something of its history with African-Americans, but not enough of that, or of the food in other parts of the world. I've gotten a couple of book recommendations, and an intense desire to try Nepalese momos (dumplings). Foodies would get more.
I would get more, too, if there were a bibliography or at least an appended "about the contributors" section. I have no idea if these people are chefs, critics, educators, journalists... although one did refer to another, randomly, as a sociologist.
Things I did learn:
Sesame "is still harvested... by hand, by the poor and often subjugated."
Mongolian barbecue was invented from scratch by a Taiwanese chef who wanted an exotic name for his creation... and Mongolians would not eat like that at all, either. Crab Rangoon is a complete fabrication, too, having nothing to do with Burma.
Quick, easy read. Articles on different topics with the occasional colorful photo. Many of them are primers to give you a taste of much bigger topics, while others are personal stories that give a voice and face to the ways that food brings us together.
This book caused me to add more hooks to my tbr pile.
Would recommend and would read another compilation like it.
Interesting collection of essays about food, culture, and how they intersect and tie us together. One of the first essays points out how almost every culture makes meat (or a protein-laden vegetable like lentils) and eats it wrapped in some sort of flatbread: think gyros (beef/lamb in a pita), soft taco (beef/pork in a tortilla), pork bun (barbecued pork in a sticky roll), etc. The other essays look at how different "ethnic" dishes get names, like Mongolian barbecue, General Tso chicken, or "Boston Pizza" in Australia, which have nothing to do with their namesakes. Altogether informative and entertaining.
Timely discussion on immigration, acceptance and food. The final chapter about the Rwandan who recognized coffee as a peace keeping tool made me tear up. I highly recommend this grounding, kind, and tasty book.
A nice set of stories about our relationships to food. They were fun to read but I didn’t find them super compelling. It’s a beautiful book but hasn’t altered my perspective or taught me anything.
Wow! What a fascinating read! This was a great compilation of stories spanning many topics of food culture globally. The format reminded me of Chicken Soup for the Soul. So fun and great to read a book with pictures!
In a world where everyone is quick to pick apart the differences between groups, food can be a great unifier. The essays in this collection do an excellent job of showing that many foods are similar around the world, even if we don't think of them that way (for example, every culture wraps bread around meat). The book alternates between personal stories and investigations into particular cuisines and ingredients. You can skip from chapter to chapter or read the whole book through, but you will be EXTREMELY hungry in no time.
“In a sense, there’s nothing surprising about the fact that people take creative liberties. Cooking and storytelling are, after all, two of the things that make us quintessentially human.”
Personal favourites in this anthology: "Curry Grows Wherever It Goes", Ben Mervis; "Culinary Difference Makes a Difference", Krishnendu Ray; "Food is a Gateway", Bini Pradhan, Heena Patel, Isabel Caudillo.
Thoughtfully sequenced with contributors writing in tones ranging from reflective to explanatory, critical to sensory, this anthology of food writing is accessible and inviting to anyone interested in exploring food culture, and getting beyond polarizing arguments of cultural appropriation and "fine dining" towards something more empathetic and food-justice oriented. The book's numerous essays on the disappeared histories of culinary breakthroughs (namely the achievements of African-American chefs and cooks), as well as the class dynamics between foods Americans are more willing to pay for (and ones they are not) got me thinking about how food isn't a cure for racism but could be a portal of understanding how multiple ways of being in this world (urban living/rural living, moving around/staying put) are not only possible but worth dreaming of.
I picked this up on impulse from the new books shelf at the library and it was a delightful anthology. Some stories hit me more than others (especially the three at the end, and the stories of three women at La Cocina in San Francisco. This isn’t heavy on research but it’s all the more charming for it. Would recommend for fans of Mind of a Chef, Salt Fat Acid Heat and Queer Eye <3.
This book brought me all the feels. I was enlightened by the subtlety of dining etiquette (Much Depends on How You Hold Your Fork by Wendell Steavenson), fascinated by all the stuff we human eat (People Will Eat Anything by Aralyn Beaumont & Marissa Gery). And when I had thought that was the max emotional range of a food book, I was leveled by the brutal reality and the steely determination to make peace with and overcome the past (Coffee Saves Lives by Arthur Karuletwa).
That said, the book has many typos, for example many Vietnamese dishes miss proper accents, and the Thank-yous page misses a whole sentence altogether. I guess the Noma team is immaculate with their cooking but not with proof-reading, eh?
This book is, pardon me, absolutely delicious. I sat down at my desk on a Saturday to skim through it and ended up reading the whole thing, loving every minute, audibly exclaiming "wow!" much to the bafflement of my office mate. The essays are lively and could be consumed a la carte, but so well organized that if the reader wishes to consume the book entirely in order it flows much like a well-arranged multi-course meal. A delightful collection of multicultural food writing you'll want to share with others. (Thanks to NetGalley for the review copy for librarians. This review is my own unbiased opinion.)
I love this book. This is one of those anthologies that is balanced on feelings, research to make you think, and sociological conundrums... it was the best before bed read because each essay was a perfect length and rich with stories / food for thought. I loved the diversity of voices, the nuance at trying to sort out current conversations around food (what is cultural appropriation in cooking?!), and the photos were beautiful, too.
I can see this being used for so many things and am racking up my ideas of who could use this and in what ways. That being said, I am especially excited thinking about this book using excerpts for a group read for a great discussion (college profs, these would be amazing HW assignments). All I wanted to do was talk to someone (my poor partner had to hear about most of these essays), because I had learned fascinating things about naming of food, how fire works, or the history of soy sauce and what it all means about society.. and how we eat today. There is such a range in this anthology that it’s also just fun to devour and lull over alone ( they all do tend to tie up semi-nicely by the end of each essay). There’s an essay about Mennonites making cheese is Mexico, essays from women about how intertwined immigration is to food, and musings on what ‘table manners’ look like around the world .. and how none of us really agree... and yet we’re all way more connected and similar through food and as humans than we often realize. They are all relevant, all human centered, and all come back to food.
I loved this book, can you tell? I might even write a blog post about ways to use some of the pieces to get someone else excited about it. Well done and thank you to Chris Ying, MAD folks, and the publishers for this ARC !
An extraordinary read with essays on how food has done so much for us in both connecting us and keeping us apart. Covers a range of items such as how calling restaurants "ethnic" is another way of labeling food made by a group as "other" to how the crafting of milk and cheese brings those in a Mexican and Mennomite community together. Who knew an article about coffee could spawn such strong feelings?
Chris Ying, the editor of the book, described the title You and I Eat the Same as a "personal experiment" to see if food indeed could help connect us to one another. We may not eat "exactly the same" but perhaps the similarities outweigh the differences.
One of the authors, Aralyn Beaumont, does her best to help Ying's personal experiment, contributing several essays to the collection: Everybody Wraps Meat in Flatbread explores how people the world over like to wrap meat in some kind of cooked dough as an easy to eat bundle of deliciousness. From burritos to kebabs, jianbing to injera, galettes to dosa, countries on every continent use different grains to make their version of a flatbread and eat it with meat. Then there's Leaves Make Things Steamy - on the use of leaves to cook food in in different cultures, from tamales and bak chang, to mok pla and dolmas. And finally, Cilantro is everywhere (this isn't really an essay, more like a 4 para assertion that you can put cilantro in plenty of dishes. Perhaps Beaumont ran out of steam at this point.) This theme is also picked up in Arielle Johnson's Your Fire and My Fire Burn the Same, Osayi Endolyn's Fried Chicken is Common Ground and Tienlon Ho's One Seed Rules Them All, on the sesame seed.
But the book is pretty much an eclectic collection of essays with a link to food and eating. Some of them speak of the immigrant experience and how food is a way for them to establish themselves and make a living in a new country, whilst maintaining a connection to their culture (Ben Mervis's Curry Grows Wherever it Goes on Ranjit Kaur's restaurant, Ranjit's Kitchen in Glasgow; Food is a Gateway, on La Cocina in SF which is an incubator kitchen helping primarily female immigrants to start their own food business; Food Changes on Tony Tan moving from Malaysia to Australia and getting his start working in a restaurant; Coffee Saves Lives, on Arthur Karuletwa working with Rwandan coffee farmers both as a way to confront his bitterness from the Rwandan civil war and to tackle poverty in Rwanda.) Others are on the origin stories of foods and certain terms (Luke Tsai's We All Want a Good Story on the such diverse foods as crab Rangoon, Chinese chicken salad and Mongolian BBQ; Paul Freedman's There is No Such Thing as a Nonethnic Restaurant). Then there are essays on the produce and culinary heritage of certain regions (Cemre Narin's The Good Stuff Doesn't Sit Still on chef Mehmet Gur and his food researcher Tangor Tan's efforts to uncover the best products and ingredients that the Anatolian region has to offer).
Some of the essays are pretty fascinating - like Michael Snyder's essay on a Mennonite colony in Durango, Mexico and its cheese making business. I'd never even heard about the Mennonites before this. The highlight of the book for me were the two Noma-linked pieces. Rene Redzepi's essay, If It Does Well Here, It Belongs Here, discussed the inspiration behind Noma and the movement we now know as New Nordic - the quest to explore the Nordic region and to figure out what exactly the Nordic identity was. Redzepi's essay isn't just about food and cooking, it's a meditation on identity. He describes their early efforts as being "built around a blind search for identity - not necessarily a deliberate one, but one driven by a longing to anchor ourselves to something". In the beginning, the team felt that if an ingredient didn't hail from the Nordic region, it didn't belong in Noma. But "when is an ingredient truly local? What makes it belong here? What does it take for an ingredient to be integrated to the point where you think, Now I can put it on the menu. Now it makes sense? If you go far back enough in time, you'll find that almost everything in your everyday pantry actually came from somewhere else."
David Zilber, the former sous-chef of Noma, picks up on this issue of identity and authenticity in his essay You Can Take the Shoyu Out of Japan, when he describes Noma's efforts to brew their own shoyu using ingredients found in the Nordic region - instead of soybeans and rice, they used yellow peas and barley. "The result? Delicious….[yet] for all the liters and varieties of Nordic shoyu we've produced since then, none has ever managed to make its way into a Noma recipe. Every time a chef in the test kitchen…uses a splash of shoyu to add depth to a sauce or saltiness to a marinade, the trial is inevitably scrapped…Without fail, Nordic shoyu jarringly knocks our guests out of this [Nordic] narrative, transporting them instantly from their sheepskin-lined chairs in a quiet corner of Copenhagen to a neon-lit alleyway on a boisterous Tokyo side street".
The risk with collections is that not all the pieces are equally compelling. And You And I Eat the Same was a bit of a mixed bag for me. Still, I appreciated that it was a mixed bag with some gems that provided for a couple of evenings of light reading.
Like an expanded issue of the dearly beloved Lucky Peach (RIP), this collection of essays is a timely exploration of how good food is a common thread between all cultures. Immigration and the spread of ingredients, ideas, and techniques are at the core of cuisine. Accented with gorgeous photos, these topics are also downright fun (at least to my inner culinary anthropologist).
I knew I would love this book when I opened it to a random page and was greeted by a one-page essay entitled, "Cilantro Is Everywhere." I read the essays in order, but it's definitely a book where the reader could jump around. Surely, I'll be picking up this book again to revisit these important sociological concepts.
Can't wait to see what the next MAD Dispatch will be!
In "Fried Chicken is Common Ground:" "And there, [Morgan] McGlone has landed on the two questions that give all food consequence: Is it tasty? And does it mean something?" p. 76
In "One Seed Rules Them All:" "Like people, with enough time, food that was once foreign can eventually become so entrenched in a culture that it endows that culture with a new heritage. A dish can feel of one place, while being from another." p. 82
In "If It Does Well Here, It Belongs Here:" "Over these last few years, we've trained ourselves to embrace the unfamiliar. You have to be okay with being surprised or uncomfortable or ignorant. Otherwise, what's the point of going anywhere? I hate when people come to Denmark and complain, 'It's so cold here.' Where did you think you were going when you booked your flight? Unfortunately, it's a very common attitude, especially when it comes to food. People just want what they're used to." p. 93
In "Food Changes:" "Our lives turn out very differently from the lives that were expected of us - all because we moved somewhere else." p. 130
In "There Is No Such Thing as a Nonethnic Restaurant:" "The narrative of the obscure ethnic restaurant, once known only to the cognoscenti but now spoiled by philistines, remains a persistent trope." p. 168
In "We All Want a Good Story:" "Cooking and storytelling are, after all, two of the things that make us quintessentially human. We want our food to come from somewhere. All the better if there's a good story behind it that we can talk about while we're sitting around the table." p. 179
In "You Can Take the Shoyu Out of Japan:" "There is no need to buy a ticket to return to the memories of the best times of your life. The semiotics of taste have a powerful hold on our memories, informed by the accumulation of all our uncountable life experiences." p. 191
I was intrigued by the premise of the collection - shared habits and practices in food - particularly having mostly read about differences in cuisines often taking the central space in food-related writings. It did not disappoint.
Every essay takes a different approach on the 'common factors', with some talking about shared ingredients, others about shared techniques, eating habits, operations chain, philosophy or marketing behind food among others. Each of them approach their matter and narratives differently, but all are informative and interesting.
Another theme touched on - and the collection is quite open about it - is how food connects (or should connect) people across cultures. I particularly liked the the essays about immigration, 'ethnic' food and other perspectives on the supply chain - whether hyperlocal or global.
Would be looking forward to subsequent volumes, and recommend this to all who would like to look at their food in a bit more detail and just a little bit differently.
I wish I could give this book 4.5 stars because 5 seems too high and 4 too low.
This book is a collection of food-related essays, so there is a wide variety of topics within the book. There are definitely highs and lows when comparing essays, but the vast majority were well written and interesting. Maybe it's because I'm not a scientist, but reading 10 pages about the chemical reactions in the process of fire was very dry.
On the flip side, the essay talking about what "ethnic food" in America was one of my favorites. Learning how Italian and German food was seen as ethnic food in the late 1800s/ early 1900s made my mind do flips because now pizza and hot dogs are seen as "American" food. The foodscape changes every 40ish years to include a new cuisine from around the world that Americans will start to accept. It's sad that it has to take so long. On the other hand, some countries don't eat much else besides their nationality's food, so it's exciting that it happens at all
I loved the read and look forward to more volumes from MAD.
Thank you Netgalley and a very special thanks to Workman Publishing. The first copy of the ARC I received was a pdf and I couldn’t read it on my Kindle. The publisher was kind enough to send me a print copy, which is beautiful by the way and has lots of great photos, to make it easier. The premise of the book is we all eat similar items, but they go by different names and various forms. Each story is written by a different food expert.
The first story profiles flatbreads. In India, they call it tandoori roti while it’s fry bake in Trinidad and Tobago. Other chapters detail fried chicken, seeds, cilantro, coffee and more. I would have liked a few recipes interspersed in these essays, but that wasn’t the focus of the book. I think you’ll love learning about food that everyone around the world eats.
Did this book get such amazing reviews because everyone is obsessively in love with Rene Redzepi? This book is like a special issue of The New Yorker, with all the cool kids writing their favorite foodie stories and memories and, well, lists. It's actually not as good as a special issue of The New Yorker because there is no Jane Meyer, no John McPhee, nobody except the famous, beautiful, extremely nice Danish guy who writes something you've probably read already at least a few times.
I guess I was expecting more. It's full of food stories, some of them really tender and personal, some of them the required pull-yourself-up-from-your-boostraps-through-cooking stories, some of them about really exceptional people and their struggles and their genius. But most of them are kind of just nice stories to pass the time while waiting for your doctor's appointment, to be honest.