While most of the students responded with the traditional turkey and mash and stuffing, my friend and I--the only two Asian kids in the class--exchanged a glance. "Chow mein!" He hollered. "Rice!" Said I.
Funny how eager the class was to believe us.
I'm not sure how it is in most Chinese families, but I know that our Thanksgiving was celebrated with the traditional turkey and gravy and stuffing and mashed potatoes. We did, however, add our own Chinese twist: we feasted on our American meal with chopsticks, and for dessert we enjoyed a lovely baked mochi cake with red bean paste.
Truth be told, I don't know a single Chinese person who likes turkey. I know I don't. I'm terrified of the idea of eating turducken, tofurkey, or just plain turkey. Mom and dad complain that rubbing that fifteen pound turkey with seasoning and butter felt like washing a baby in the sink. Even they were grossed out. But we all decided to get into the Thanksgiving spirit. I admire my grandparents, who put up with the hearty (and heart-attack inducing) American meal, however much they disliked it. Of course, they brought their side Chinese dish so they can at least enjoy part of their meal.
Happy Turducken break!
