To gatekeep or not to gatekeep
And why are so many Chinese restaurants called Mayflower?
Welcome to the first of my monthly newsletters. Here’s a reminder of the map/legend for the different sections. No small talk or flowery language, we’ve got a lot to get through. Let’s go!
Eating
During the bitter coldness of February I felt the jittery urgency to make 煲仔飯 / bo zai fan (claypot rice) - not once, but twice. The first version (vegan) used my friend Farrokh’s Iranian smoked rice. Toppings were an as-spore-tment of shiitake, abalone mushroom, tea tree mushroom, cordyceps militaris and morels. The broth used to cook the rice in the pan was saffron bloomed in the mushroom soaking water. A no-brainer ‘fusion’ of tahchin and BZF.
I cooked the second version for family and friends at Chinese New Year dinner. Here I fully embraced festive ostentation with lap cheong sausage and a whole abalone, alongside more mushrooms. Kept it kosher with jasmine rice this time, every grain coated with pork fat...
There is a way to eat BZF. BZF is like a lotus flower. Beautiful up top, but its soul lies in the muddy roots: the scorched crust at the bottom. The etiquette of BZF eating is that you must all politely, but persistently, dig for the crusty bits. A playfight for scraps is permitted among friends. In chapter ‘I is for Instagrammable’ of my book An A-Z of Chinese Food (Recipes Not Included) I talk about a very particular bo zai fan served at The Chairman restaurant in Hong Kong. How, as part of the service, the waiter brings out the dish and then flips the intact crust for you, mainly so you can take a photo.
I still can’t decide if this is sacrilege or genius. It removes the right of the diner to excavate her own treasures. It turns the clandestine into spectacle. But in this regard, the theatrics of The Chairman’s BZF becomes more akin to the flipping of tahchin (or indeed maqloubeh), wherein the beautiful lotus flower is the crust of the upended rice dome, all angry and flushed like a baboon’s bottom.
I enjoy theatre and I enjoy the spectacle involved in communal dining. It’s always interesting what reactions are brought up when we subvert the expectations of how food practices should and shouldn’t be performed.
Chewing
The next segment asks the question: why are so many Chinese restaurants called Mayflower? Here comes my typically multilingual join-the-dots-and-fill-in-the-blanks meander. Enjoy!
On my walks around London, I notice that Mayflower is a common Chinese restaurant/takeaway name, specifically that of the first generation British Cantonese. There are Mayflowers in Bristol, Barry and Bedford, from Stockport to Newport. If there is Chinese at all on the signage, Mayflower is written as 五月花, pronounced ng5 jyut6 faa1 in Cantonese. Literally ‘fifth month flower’. But this is not the name of any real flower. It is, however, the Chinese transliteration of the Mayflower ship, which brought English pilgrims to North America in 1620. OK, did there happen to be a small group of Chinese passengers on board that ship? Nope.
I look to the US and to Europe. A quick online search brings up multiple Mayflowers in the States. A sojourn to Germany (where immigrants would historically have more likely been Mandarin speakers) sheds some light: there, several Mayflowers are written as 美麗華, sometimes 美華. Both of these are conventional word combinations: 美麗 / měi lì meaning ‘beautiful’, and 華 / huá meaning ‘magnificent’. The latter can also mean ‘flowery’ and is indeed a homophone for 花 / huā, ‘flower’.
Here is the key finding: ‘Mayflower’ works as a cross-lingual pun both homophonically and poetically, as long as it’s presented in Chinese as 美華. Měi huá in Mandarin sounds so much more like ‘Mayflower’ than ng5 jyut6 faa1 in Cantonese, and the former rings more poetic than the name of a ship that carried the Pilgrim Fathers of… colonisation.
But, it’s probable that both meanings were intended, rather than it being a case of romanisation lost in translation. ‘Mayflower’ is an English name that permeates Chinese diaspora settlements, as far as Singapore. (However, you won’t see it in somewhere like Hong Kong.) In Singapore, there is a whole area named Mayflower, with an MRT station, school, market and various streets bearing its mantle. It’s in the Ang Mo Kio residential area (Ang Mo Kio is Hokkien for ‘Caucasian man’s bridge’!), which was developed during the ‘70s and ‘80s. The Mayflower name nods to the former Kampong Kebun Baru precinct. Kebun Baru means ‘new garden’ in Malay, and I’m sure that Mayflower is intended to conjure up visions of new settlements and new beginnings.
Don’t under-estimate the effect of word of mouth. From my research, I can see that many of these British Cantonese Mayflowers opened in the ‘90s. It was not uncommon for entrepreneurs around the isles to take trips to London, and share information via family networks. Perhaps there was a ripple effect that stemmed from one establishment that took its name from the historic Mayflower pub in Rotherhithe, the original docking station of the 17th century ship? Over in the States, where the pilgrim ship is venerated in American history, I can imagine that Chinese immigrants would have seen this as apt a name as New World or Lucky Garden.
One more finding adds intrigue to the mix. Frozen food chain Iceland launched its own-brand line of Chinese sauces and products in 1993. Its name? Mayflower. Did Iceland come up with this name first, or was it savvy nomenclature-by-association?
My meander ends with a conclusion that ‘Mayflower’ is thoroughly diasporic in essence. It works in Chinese, it translates to English, and it evokes ambition, hope and lands of plenty - all within a tiny rural shopfront. It’s perfect.
An A-Z
When is language proficiency a matter of life and death? ‘Nearly 50,000 Asian Americans reside within the [Los Angeles wildfire] evacuation zones, with over 12,000 needing language assistance due to limited English proficiency (LEP).’ (AAPI Equity Alliance)
Not unrelated, what are the dangers of Trump’s executive order to make English the official language of the USA? I just adored the passion of Dr Carmen Fought in this podcast interview, as she and the hosts rip apart the order word by word. (Because Language)
Slowly working my way through: ‘Mapping the Language of Spices: A Corpus-Based, Philological Study on the Words of the Spice Domain’ by Gábor Parti of The Hong Kong Polytechnic University. A linguistic study of spices through Wanderwörter. This one’s for the botanists / Chinese / Arabic linguists. Read at least the first 40 pages.
Melon seeds
I had a comment on this Instagram post that caused some ruckus underneath it. I promised to answer the commenter with a proper response that wouldn’t get lost, so here it is.
I know the writer asked with curiosity and without malice. However, since these ruckuses/rucki now play out in public domain, I believe we should address them with crystal clarity. So here is my reading:
She made an assumption based only on pictures as to whether anyone was ethnically South Asian.
She stated that South Asians ‘invented’ banana leaf rice.
She then proposed (based on a later-clarified misunderstanding that this was a public event) that if a cuisine is to be eaten, the people who ‘invented’ said cuisine should be represented in sufficient quantity.
Don’t get me wrong, I am pro-gatekeeping in certain contexts. But this is a form of gatekeeping that misdirects energy. Why?:
Firstly, there were South Asians present. Other South Asians were invited but could not attend. But I do not want to play the racial quota card; that way a slippery slope lies. This was my private birthday potluck, not a DE&I event. Nevertheless, I have my own rationale for who was invited and who wasn’t and I would never change it just to appear more inclusive.
Making an assumption about ethnic identity based on what people look like is dangerous.
Banana leaf is used as crockery in pretty much every country that grows bananas. It is not specific to one particular people, country or region. I have written quite a good article about why I host this annual banana leaf banquet. It begins with the question: ‘If rituals bind a culture, how do you hold together a diverse community with no single shared tradition?’ (Answer: traditions can be speculative and rituals can be co-created.)
If we want to gatekeep ownership of the banana leaf, then we should also interrogate the food. On the leaves: Iranian kuku sabzi, a Thai jellyfish salad, Korean marinated eggs, Sichuan stir fried cabbage, Vietnamese fish sauce fried tofu to name just a few items. There was also rice - the true star of the meal. Where does that leave us in terms of ‘representation’ at this event?
The main issue I take - again, this is written with utmost care and as an open invitation to productive conversation - is with solely linking ethnic identity to culture as a birthright to practice it. Even if this had been an public event, I would have been uncomfortable with this level of scrutiny about ‘representation’. Many corporate DE&I initiatives now operate on filling this skin colour gap, while bypassing other intersectionalities. At my event there was a Korean woman who went to school in India and spoke Tamil. Was she South Asian enough to eat the banana leaf rice?
Community spotlight: Pinetree Bakery
Looking for a Korean caterer, food photographer, sushi masterclass or Chinese wedding cake? A reminder about this database, which collates British food & drink small business owners (excluding restaurants) of East and Southeast Asian heritage. I maintain and update this regularly and it is free to use.
This month I am spotlighting a husband-and-wife-run bakery that recently opened in an old fishmonger’s in Beccles, Suffolk. Read my Q&A with co-founder Jing and find them on Instagram and IN REAL LIFE!
How have you combined British and East Asian influences on your menu?
A lot of Asian flavours lend themselves to implementation into British baking, e.g. the umami of miso pairs very well with dark chocolate. Yuzu and pomelo, two distinctive Asian fruits on a French tarte aux fruits fraise, were very well received by our customers.
What have people’s reactions been to your menu?
A lot of our customers are enthusiastic to try new flavours, and that is at the heart of what we do. We want to encourage and expand peoples’ tastes. It’s very exciting when you introduce new flavours into someone’s palate.
How did Jing learn Chinese pastry? And what about Paul?
I learnt some Chinese pastry from my family back home in Hunan. We often make jiaozi together, as well as baozi and traditional mooncakes. My favourite was a snack my grandmother made: cong you bing / 葱油饼, a simple pastry with fresh spring onions. My brother and I would stand next to the wok with our mouths watering, watching it cook.
Paul has worked in a few bakeries in local area to really get an understanding of the foundations of British baking.
Has running this business together helped you to understand each other's culture and cuisines more?
Paul and I have been together almost 17 years, and we have taken numerous trips to Asia together. I think we have a good understanding of each other’s cultures. Paul especially likes the spicy Hunan cuisine.
Bulletin board
Are you in the Bristol area? Save the date - I’m co-hosting a bank holiday book party there on 4th May. More details will be announced on Instagram.
! Looking for your Asian Women Dating White Men stories! This is anonymised research for a future writing project and the anecdotes won’t be published anywhere, though I will probably summarise the findings and share them. Answer three questions here. Hope some of you find catharsis in sharing.
Intimate sister / 知心大姐
Got a question or dilemma for me to answer anonymously? Email me.
"It’s in the Ang Mo Kio residential area (Ang Mo Kio is Hokkien for ‘Caucasian man’s bridge’!)"
This is exactly where I live in Singapore and I have no idea why it's named that hahaha