#57. Wander aisles of exotic produce - lychees! jackfruit! Indian eggplant! - at H Mart or Lotte Plaza in Catonsville. Eat some yummy bi-bimbap or udon soup at the food court and then pick up a beautiful fresh whole fish for dinner before you head home.
Today, while making a quick trip out to Ellicott City to visit Target, I convinced my sister to go to the Catonsville H-mart and the Hanoori Town food court instead of her much preferred Uno’s. Ok, convinced maybe isn’t the right word. Bribed, threatened and cajoled are all applicable verbs.
H-mart and the plaza it is located in is an Asian hub, seeming to be located quite randomly in the middle of Catonsville on Route 40. However, if one would just take a look at the demographic statistics for Maryland, they would not be so surprised. Maryland has the 7th largest Asian population in the United States. According to the Office of Minority Health and Health Disparities,
"In 2004 there were 274,298 Asian American and Pacific Islanders (APIs) in Maryland, which is 5% of the state’s population. Maryland is tied for 7th among the states in percent of its population that is Asian or Pacific Islander. 93% of Maryland’s Asian or Pacific Islander population lives in the Baltimore Metropolitan or National Capital areas." (here's the link)
The Indochinese Refugee Act of 1975 and the Refugee Act of 1980 were passed and allowed for an explosive growth in Asian immigration to the United States. More than 300,000 Vietnamese and other southeast Asians fled violent political unrest in their home countries. These people settled around the Baltimore-Washington area to find work in a booming economy and settled into areas close to their peers in order to establish close-knit communities similar to the ones they left behind. The H-mart and surrounding plaza has become one of the many epicenters for Asian business and social activities in the Baltimore area.
H-mart plaza has always fascinated me as that small piece of Asia transplanted into Catonsville. Being #57 on my list, I saw the rain and my lack of anything constructive to do as a perfect excuse to wander the aisles of a strange new grocery store. I had also worked up an extreme hunger waiting on my sister to pick me up (in MY car), so naturally, I was dreaming of steamed pork buns and chocolate Pocky.
What I learned: …forget Pocky …forget steamed buns with labels in English.
After walking through a set of familiar automatic, glass grocery-store doors I was suddenly surrounded by unfamiliar faces, colors, smells, noises and sounds. I felt almost as if I had been teleported to an actual market somewhere in Asia. Women in full burkha determining the firmness of mangoes, an older Korean couple arguing about what appeared to be fish, strange cuts of meat and tanks of large fish were all sights I had rarely, if ever, seen at other western-style grocery stores. Suddenly, my sister and I were the minority; two white strangers wandering aisles, being stared at with some curiosity. I went forth boldly, but Maureen hung back with some trepidation. Getting her to pick out something unfamiliar to buy was like pulling teeth. Finally, after talking her into some lychee, Chinese red plums, Asian pears (carefully wrapped in tissue paper), red bean steamed buns (or at least that’s what I hoped they were) and some ginger candy, we left the grocery store. I vow to go back with some Asian recipes and come out with a full grocery cart and a fresh WHOLE fish.
Hungry for more (ha ha ha), I dragged Maureen next-door to the Korean-Japanese food court-style restaurant, Hanoori Town. This was the real challenge of the day. Almost NOTHING was in English. Back lit, picture menus commonly found in familiar, Americanized Chinese restaurants were not common to us at all; the foods had strange names and, for the most part, unidentifiable ingredients. If you know me, you know I was thrilled and up to the challenge of ordering a random number off the menu. If you know Maureen, you know she was pissed and somewhat confused as to why I had dragged her somewhere like this place. After several minutes of trying to determine what we would eat, we compromised. Walking up to the counter to order a #6 Bokeum Bap (something that resembled a wok-fried vegetable rice dish, “WITH BEEF, TELL HER WITH BEEF,” Maureen insisted) I soon discovered that not only were many of the signs not in English, very few of those in the food court spoke English. The older Korean woman at the counter looked at me strangely and signaled that it would be a little over $8. I was confident in ordering and taking in the scents and smells, but Maureen sat at a table against the wall. “I feel a little intimidated,” she said. I was surprised. My normally confident, loud sister is nothing like me when it comes to being adventurous with food, but I had no idea that her comfort zone was also restricted to comfortable locales. It seemed as if culture shock had gotten to the indefatigable Mo. I tried to get her to loosen up by googling foods that she thought looked good and soon she was actually excited about the new dishes and talking about coming back.
After about 15 minutes, the lady at the counter waved me back up and handed me a bag, its contents a large box and 4 small Styrofoam containers filled with traditional Korean side-dishes: chunjang (black bean paste, very salty and savory), danmooji (pickled radish, preferably served with rice-wine vinegar for a salty and sweet beet-like bite), kimchee (spicy, fermented cabbage that is somewhat crunchy and was served cold) and some strange soup that tasted slightly of mushrooms with scallions floating in it. The scent was incredible. The mix of spices was like nothing i had ever smelled and the beef and fruit mingled together in a fruity, meaty way that cannot be done any justice by words (actually, typing those words together actually sounds kind of disguting, but I promise it was delicious.
We returned home, heated up pork buns, sliced some fruit and sat down to eat. As soon as we sat down, Maureen dove for the familiar fried rice, turning down the more exotic foods she seemed excited about just minutes before. An hour or two later, I caught her eating Chick-fil-A. Back to the westernized grind. I on the other hand, tried everything and “아주 맛있었어요” [a-ju ma-si-sseo-sseo-yo] = It was delicious.Recipes:
For Bokeum Bop (Korean fried rice)
Terms:
Culture shock: difficulty experienced when confronting a culture different than one’s own
References:
http://www.dhmh.state.md.us/hd/pdf/AsianData.pdf
No comments:
Post a Comment