Those who see us only from other countries think that all we eat is hamburgers and hot dogs (or franks). I have no statistics at hand, but just by looking around, I could tell that the national meal in the United States is pizza. It is now more American than apple pie.
The fact that you can order it now and you eat it still hot in the comfort of your home 15 to 30 minutes later puts it tops on the list of millions of people. A family may go out and have hamburgers; hot dogs are boiled, broiled or fried as a fast lunch in an emergency, but pizzas are an instant miracle. Every time I step in or out my apartment, I see a pizza man carrying the familiar box and a couple of sodas through the halls of the complex.
Our ubiquitous pizza comes as an ethnic shock to some foreigners. They never had it elsewhere the way we make it here, especially Italians. Michele, a Roman friend of mine, got hooked on Pizza Hut Priazzos (now vanished). He enjoyed the food, yes, but he also the atmosphere of a Pizza Hut. “We don’t have anything like this in Italy,” he said. “Soon you will,” I answered — thinking how fast food establishments sprout everywhere in the world.
While living in New York I met a Spaniard whose French mother was desperately trying to teach him the refinements of the French cuisine, but he had discovered pizza. And he got so hooked on it, that pizza was all he ate during the week he spent in the Big Apple. His mother was in shock.
With medium and high quality restaurants appearing everywhere in our country and the fact that Americans today enjoy more free time and a better income, we are eating out a lot. We are munching on delicacies not exactly popular before, ranging from filet mignon to escargot, and timidly saving the ketchup for occasional visits to the neighborhood Burger King, McDonald’s or Wendy’s.
We also eat things we have been making other people and ourselves believe are really native to America. Among them you can find chewing gum (Mexican) popcorn (Mayan-Mexican) potatoes (Peru) or chocolate (AztecMexican). In others, it is easy to infer their origin. Their names give them away as in hamburgers and frankfurters.
Actually, we call American food to a selection from meats, vegetables and bread savored by anyone with no wince. The rule of thumb is no funny stuff and it must look good. To comply, manufacturers put all kinds of funny stuff we seldom know about in our food, and supermarkets follow suit placing them under special lights, as in the case of meats, illuminated with red lights to make them look good.
To some people in the world, pigs are as unclean as dogs are to us. However, in some societies dogs provide the necessary proteins for their people to keep on going. In other places, monkeys are a delicacy. If you go to Mérida, Mexico, and you are one of those tourists who — not speaking the language — point out at any plate on the menu, watch out for the word “chango”! It means monkey in the local dialect.
An “acquired taste” is a euphemism for a food that takes a long time learning to like. One of my most trying eating experiences occurred when I was in Puebla, a beautiful city, minutes from Mexico City. I had decided to go for a famous local dish called mole poblano with chicken. Mole poblano is a sauce prepared with over 20 different spices, lots of them hot, and I’m telling you hot, plus chili mixed with pure chocolate — which tastes bitter and beyond.
The mole poblano looks pitch dark and has a texture similar to tar. And it is no doubt an acquired taste. You can have a beer with it, but please don’t even try drinking water. If you do, wait over three hours before drinking any water or this will taste sour, bitter and tart, altogether. If after the first try you are courageous enough to try again and again, you’ll probably end up enjoying the exquisite taste of mole poblano.
And with food, there is water!Every traveling American knows too well that water abroad is a rare commodity and many times it becomes a point of friction anywhere abroad. Possibly the first thing we question upon arrival is the purity of the water — we may be catching up at home with the pollution of our drinking water lately.
Even before we leave, some travel agencies advise us about hostile creatures swim and flourish in the drinking waters of many countries. “Stick to bottled water. And watch it. The capping of the bottles is not so efficient in many countries as it is here. It is very easy to have any bottle quickly replenished with tap water, especially in some flea-bag fifth class hotels,” they add.
Now, let’s keep in mind the fact that water may not be so important to them during meals as it is for us, especially in Europe. We like having a glass of water right there on the table before we start eating. However, in most restaurants in other countries, water is some sort of luxury.
In many restaurants you have to beg for water and wait and wait while you sense how your food gets cold. Then, what do you get? A teeny glass with lukewarm water! On top of that, the damned thing is not even completely filled. There’s always one inch — or more — of water missing from the brim down.
Europeans haven’t understood yet that Americans drink a lot of water. Even in the most luxurious hotels in Europe, it would be a miracle to find a water fountain. And they let you know all the time. Waiters or waitresses feel it is their duty to drop a comment about our lack of interest for wine or beer with our food.
“What are you going to drink, sir?”
“Just water.”
“Water?”
“Yes, water, agua, Wasser, de l’eau.
“Yes.”
“And put some ice in the glass, please.”
“Ice?”
“Yes, ice... you know Eis, glace, hielo...”
“You’re sure you don’t want any wine?”
“No, nein, non. Just cold water, please, bitte, por favor, s’il vous plaît.”
Then the waiter goes away mumbling something like: “Water, ice... These Americans! Water with dinner, geez (or local equivalent).”
I wonder all the time why they are always so reluctant to give you ice. Why? What do they use the ice for?
Water really becomes precious when you are corralled up in an Economy Class seat for hours. At some point you begin to feel like a camel in the middle of the Sahara. And what do you get if you ask the stewardess — I mean, the flight attendant — for a glass of water? A microscopic paper cup with two or three drops of water in it! Soon you’ll be panting like a dog.
What to do? Always carry a plastic bottle of water in your carry-on, especially if you’re flying a non American carrier. Try not to be ostentatious about it, or soon your next seat neighbors, 2 out of 3, will ask you for a drink — of your precious water.