A Taste of My American Life
Written by Uma Alagappan
Dear Dartmouth,
Where are you from?
“The US.”
No, where are you really from?
“New York?”
I’m just one of many Americans who finds themselves answering this clarifying question regularly. Whether the question is based on an accent, skin color, or even an outfit, it always seems to pose a larger question: What does it mean to be American?
While I may not have grown up taking neatly cut PB&J sandwiches for school lunch, enjoying hot dogs and hamburgers at family barbeques, or indulging in a heaping scoop of mashed potatoes during Thanksgiving dinner, I know that I am American.
In fact, the diversity in our American population shows us that a single version of American life does not exist. As an individual, I cannot give an all-encompassing answer to what it means to be American, but I would love to give you taste of my American experience.
It’s November 26th. As I walk groggily down the stairs, the citrusy smell of freshly made lemon rice wakes me right up. It may only be 7 am, but the annual Thanksgiving culinary marathon has begun.
Next up, we make our potatoes. I sit with my mom and chop potato after potato. We have never made enough to indulge everyone’s craving for this mouth watering family favorite. Once my grandmother gives us a slight nod with her hand gesturing “enough,” my mom takes over the seasoning. She pours tomato paste and chopped canned tomatoes into the pan to start the base of the curry. She adds a myriad of spices. The kitchen air swells with the heady aroma of our spice cabinet.
My dad has just finished the lemon rice, my favorite part of Thanksgiving meals. He moves on to the main dish. After taking the marinated turkey out of the fridge, he removes the tin foil covering. As he does the beautiful smells of every spice and paste that our turkey has been marinating swirls into the already-fragrant kitchen. I stop to inhale the familiar aroma of our South Indian spiced turkey. I dream of the meal that we will eat later tonight. My dad puts the turkey in the preheated oven, and I am snapped back into the present.
My grandmother and I start the beans. Chopping each string bean into small pieces, my grandmother and I crack jokes about who I learned how to cook from. “Couldn’t be Appa! He doesn’t slice like this,” my grandmother exclaims with a mischievous smile.
“Just because I don’t like to spend all day in the kitchen, doesn’t mean that I can’t slice that finely,” my dad chimes in to defend himself. My grandmother scrunches her face and shakes her fist in the air. She smiles at me, and we burst into laughter. Soon, the beans are all sliced, and I bring the large metal bowl of them to the stove. I put oil in the pan and wait for the mustard seeds that I just threw in to start popping. I add curry leaves and dried red peppers. Standing by the stove, I am met by the familiar smell of the beginnings of vegetable poriyal. Once the seeds pop and brown, I stir in the beans. This dish (a true cousin favorite) is my biggest contribution. Once the beans have wilted into that perfect olive green, I know my portion of the cooking is done. I leave my parents and grandmother to finish the pan fried okra, the cranberry chutney, the sambar, the kootu, the rasam, the thayir sadam and the infamously spicy Thai salad.
2My sister and I take the rest of the afternoon to clean the house and decorate with a special tablecloth with Diwali and Navratri decorations carefully placed around the dining room. The spicy, flavorful, and comforting aromas of our Thanksgiving meal waft through the air. This constant combination of cultures is my American experience.
Faithfully,
Uma Alagappan
Updated November 22, 2020:
P.S. – Although I spoke about my family’s preparation for a Thanksgiving meal in this article, my family and I are working on reimagining our Thanksgiving in order to better respect Native Americans. ‘The story of Thanksgiving’ that I have been told since elementary school is not only misguided, but also a gross re-telling of Native history. I want to thank you for taking the time to read my article and ask you to read this article by Native photographer Matika Wilbur to hear a few native perspectives on Thanksgiving:
A Thanksgiving Message from Seven Amazing Native Americans
Featured Image by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash
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