Bitter melon. Photo courtesy of sfllaw. Licensed under Creative Commons.
I recently joined the Culinary Historians of Southern California, thereby fulfilling my dream of being a member of an organization with both a quarterly newsletter and a treasurer. YES. Further proof that CHSC and I were meant to be: it is closely affiliated with the LA Public Library and it hosts free monthly talks by noted food experts. Like Jonathan Gold, whose recent talk on "The Rise of Regional Cuisines in the San Gabriel Valley" covered a list of 25 or so restaurants which for him have defined regional Asian cuisine in the area. It was less like a lecture from a college professor and more like a peek into the journal of a man passionate about his hobby -- in this case, seeking out the best knife-cut noodles, Taiwanese slush and fake dogmeat in the county.
I won't regurgitate the whole list here, but I did want to bring up something I've been thinking about in the week since he spoke, a point he brought up when talking about number 15 on his list, the Taiwanese restaurant Nice Time Deli. He hated it for a long time. He hated the food, the stinky tofu and bitter melon, and couldn't understand why it always seemed to be packed with people clearly relishing their meals. But he kept eating there. He said he looked around the dining room, saw a roomful of professional-looking Taiwanese ex-pats who had obviously gone out of their way to eat at this restaurant and he decided to figure out what he was missing. Two months and sixteen meals later, he finally did.
I repeat: he ate there seventeen times before he started to actually enjoy himself, a mind-boggling feat for which I have the utmost respect.
While it's true that most food bloggers lack both the expense account and the time needed to dine at a restaurant 15+ times before publishing their opinions, many are also missing something even more crucial: a totally open mind. It was humbling to hear that Jonathan Gold -- arguably one of the most knowledgeable restaurant reviewers in the country, certainly one of the most respected -- sat back at the end of the meal and admitted to himself, I don't get this yet. He assumed the problem was not the food; it was him.
And then he ate and he ate until finally he understood the appeal of bitter melon ("not bitter like coffee, not bitter like dark chocolate -- bitter like cancer medicine"). Until maybe tofu that smelled like an alleyway of rotting garbage started to almost make sense.
I strive to be like that, a person who has devoted a good chunk of his life to learning all he can about the subject that interests him most, respected by others as an expert -- yet still able to say humbly and honestly, "I still have more to learn."
Because the only thing more bitter than bitter melon is a critic who thinks he knows it all. Right?
I've never had bitter melon or stinky tofu. I'm missing out on the C medicine.