But fyi, Sam, only a few dishes are americanized asian food.
Normally, not by choice, I would go to dim sum. But this weekend with great company, I actually had decent dim sum. Who knew? The last time I went to dim sum without my family, I had to wait 30 minutes between dishes (read: one dish has 4 pieces of dim sum and most likely reheated from the frozen counterparts shipped from Toronto). What a nightmare that was.
Although ultimately what I find fascinating about dim sum is that it’s not really about the food. For my family, it’s the one time per week that I see my parents and my grandparents. And if anybody else is in town, it’s the time to see them. It’s the server that knows us by name and the food we order…and the dessert he comps us. And about the conversation that goes around the table–the exchange of letters that my grandmother cannot read, the latest news of Maria the helper for my grandfather, and news that my parents would tell about my sister and me. It’s a time of talking and discussing.
Perhaps, being somewhat Americanized (and my own need to be assimilated), I always thought it was rather repetitive and ultimately dull. But it’s my only one time a week (or every other week). Drink up, tea cups empty and magically full.