Rumblings & Ramblings

On Saturday my family celebrated Matthew’s one month old birthday. My cousin Thuy and his wife Jane held a baby shower so that friends and family could meet the little dude with the funniest face. He looks like a puppy. A human puppy. Very cute!

Because there was so many of us, at least 90 people, it only made sense to have this event at an Asian buffet in Richmond Hill aka the 905. This is where buffets reign supreme. I will say it’s a bit daunting and dazzling if you take a moment to ponder the number of different species you can eat at a buffet. It is a game I play. My count was at least 18 different animals that night. My usual thoughts and considerations about sustainable and local eating were forced to be on hold.

I avoid buffets now, but going to one was a lot fun and very nostalgic.

When I was young, when we were not frequenting Chinese or Vietnamese restaurants, my extended family on my father’s side occasionally went to buffets. Sit down dinners of mostly the Western variety was not an experience I had much of. Try getting 12 aunts and uncles, plus their spouses and significant others, 20 first cousins, plus their spouses and significant others, to the table.

You see, my father’s family, eats an enormous amount of food. I am talking vats of noodles and soup. I do not think I have seen a man or woman eat as much as some of my uncles. Going to buffets allowed everyone to be full and content, for a set price, as going to a normal restaurant was a bit of a risk - of not satisfying people’s appetite, of having to spend more than one could afford, of not being able to provide and losing face.

It was a treat to go. My mother would regale over the idea of eating “all-you-can-eat” seafood. Now, not all buffets are created equal, so part of what made a good buffet (oxymoron for some I am sure) was what seafood they had as offerings. Another determinant, and a counterbalance to the quality of the food, was the price. Going for lunch or dinner made a difference.

I remember this one time, when I was about 10 going with my cousins and our parents. I was the eldest and thought it would be fun to eat whatever made up concoction my cousins and brother offered. I was brave and wanted to show off - that I had a steely stomach and could eat whatever. So with eyes closed Anh Thi put a spoonful of something in my mouth.

And I choked. I still remember the taste in my mouth. Imagine a mixture of hot sauce, fish sauce, soy sauce, noodles, rice, some meat, strawberry ice cream, and what tasted like peanut butter - whatever it was it was velvety, hard, chewy and liquid all at the same time. It tasted like spicy hot vomit.

Generally at a buffet, I’d eat myself so full, I was uncomfortable. There were many moments where after eating, I’d clutch my stomach in absolute agony. Having eaten myself physically sick. I remember one time, having to excuse myself so I could go lie down in the backseat of the family car, feeling as though I’d been punched repeatedly in the stomach by Mike Tyson, feeling that I just might die of gluttonous blows. Feeling like my stomach would burst and my dead body would be found, guts exploded all over the backseat.

Nowadays, I am more restrained, and my palate more picky and critical. But the experience is just as fun. It’s not just about the food per say. It’s mingling with my family members. It’s my cousins, ranging in age from their mid-thirties to the one that shall be born in a month, teasing each other and laughing. We can change seats and have different dining partners each time we make a new trip. It’s people filling their plates up, feeling as though they have a lot (and they do!), and everyone having something they like to eat.

Bac Hai, can fill his plates with snails and eat plate after plate of them. My cousin’s boyfriend Ly can bring back a plate of crab legs, and offer them to family members - as he happened to be right there when the restaurant workers refilled the chafing dish with the steaming crustacean. My sister-in-law Elanor can rave about how she never gets to eat seafood and joyously eat crabs, possibly her favourite food. My little cousins can make the ice cream sundae of their dreams with 4 different scoops of flavours and drizzle it with chocolate, a warm waffle at the bottom. The young ones get to autonomously choose what to eat instead of just eating what their mother or father puts in front of them.

I realize I have idealized buffets. Food memories inextricably tied with familial feelings. Buffets offer promise and plenty. At a cost I can only imagine.