You Are What You Eat
Take a Mexican to a Mexican restaurant, you pick up the tab
Al Carlos Hernandez
Did you ever notice as a Latino, that when you are invited out to dinner by a non-ethnic acquaintance, they always want to take you to a Mexican restaurant? Is it just me, or do I have nacho on my shoulder?
Published on LatinoLA: January 12, 2003
Realistically, I don?t think it?s racism as much as a seeker sensitive accommodation. If the people who are inviting you to eat were indeed racists, they wouldn?t want to be seen in public with you in the first place, unless they were a Republican running for office, pining for a photo opportunity. The business axiom, ?There is no such thing as a free lunch,? continues to be true.
This is not to say as Latinos that we don?t do the same thing to Asian, African American, or Middle Eastern friends. If they are not an intimate, we try to accommodate them by putting them in a social situation where we perceive they will be the most comfortable. When it comes to entertaining Gringos you can take them anywhere. They are always game, omnivorous and quite willing to drop the plastic and pick up the check.
I am certainly guilty of taking Asian friends to Chinese or Japanese restaurants just to show them how multi-ethnic I am by trying to demonstrate an ability to work the chop sticks. There have been several occasions when I wanted to beg the food server for a tortilla, or some chips to scoop up the Mongolian beef and have embarrassingly sprained my middle finger trying to spear a pea.
Food servers in Asian establishments are experts at noticing when a round eye is experiencing angst. They always try to slip me a fork to speed me along, because they need to get started on cleaning the noodles off the ceiling fan, fishing the pot stickers out of the aquarium and pinching the rice out of the hostess?s hair. No doubt the kitchen homies in the back have been taking bets as to how long my chop stick foray would last. I started getting suspicious when an assistant cook comes out and shakes my hand as we leave.
As a confirmed urbanite, I have ventured into BBQ, Chicken and Waffle places with my African American friends. They always bring the hottest hot sauce possible, assuming that if I am Latino, then I am acquainted with all things peppery, ergo the insult "Pepper Belly," and then I shouldn?t punk out when it comes to slathering Louisiana 3 Alarm hot sauces.
Embarrassingly, I am one of the few machos who can?t use hot sauce of any kind, because my tenure in Spanish radio ruined my stomach for life.
As a middle class Latino, I am a perpetrator of this brown on brown culinary classism myself. Once, we had the opportunity to host legendary Tejano singer and band leader Little Joe Hernandez during a stay in San Francisco. We took great pains to take Joe into the Mission district in San Francisco to find an ?authentic? Mexican restaurant. Joe always an outspoken diplomat said, ?Why are you taking me here? I eat Mexican food all the time. We should do Thai, Indian, or Italian. If you want Mexican food, I?ll take you to my Mom?s house when we get back to Temple, Tejas.?
True to his word, several months later, I found myself at Joe?s mother?s kitchen table in Temple, Tejas eating the best menudo of my life, quickly realizing that when traveling with Joe and La Familia, menudo for breakfast was more medicinal than mechanistic.
Is it disconcerting when a non-Latino friend takes you to better Latino restaurant than you have been able to find for yourself? You then bring the matriarchs of the family there for their seal of approval, or their twisted look of chagrin.
In either case, you?re picking up the tab.
We shouldn?t be quick to take an Asian friend to a chop suey joint, or a Black friend to a BBQ palace, a Gringo to MacDonald?s, or a Middle Eastern friend to a 7-11. Americans are living in a post-ethnic era whereby cultural and humanistic growth comes from the homogenization of ethnic sensibilities and tradition.
Take a new friend to lunch.
Al Carlos Hernandez:
Al Carlos is a national columnist.