quote:

From time to time through my four decades of tirelessly exploring, cooking and promoting the complex and diverse cuisine of Mexico, a handful of people with Hispanic last names have attacked me for cooking Mexican food, saying I have no right to. I am, after all, unapologetically a white guy from Oklahoma City who was raised in a barbeque restaurant.

The attacks touch a whole host of different nerves on both sides.

Most of those who denounce my work come with the same couple of presuppositions. The first is that for select cultures, certain aspects of intangible cultural heritage are inherently the exclusive property of the culture that created them. Only people who’ve been raised in that culture (or descendants of people from that culture, no matter where they live in the world) can make a profession of those aspects of the intangible cultural heritage. Basically, what I’m saying is that there is a belief that only Mexicans (or their descendants) can make Mexican food.

Now, I say that this is only for certain cultures. Search as I might, I haven’t unearthed any examples of French, Italian or Japanese (three of the most respected cuisines in the world) alleging inappropriate appropriation toward any non-natives who’ve joined the ranks of those who call themselves French or Italian or Japanese chefs. They may (and often do) question those chefs’ depth of knowledge, the length of time they’ve emerged themselves in the cuisine and culture, their interpretation of traditions or their talent. But I’ve never heard them allege “highjacking” thievery.

Second, most of those who denounce my work have a very particular understanding of cuisine: Rather than an ever-evolving, ever-morphing approach to transforming raw ingredients into unique dishes that the culture recognizes as its own, these folks see cuisine as a finite number of recipes that can be captured, as if they were jewels, and sold in another market. For obvious reasons, that’s misguided. In Mexico, every region cooks differently, every town, every family. To truly understand a dish, you have to go to where they’re well known, visit the markets to understand the ingredients, then cook with a host of cooks to understand the essence of what ties all the individual examples together. (Basically, to work deeply in the culinary aspects of intangible cultural heritage, you need to have serious training in anthropology, which I do.) Now, whether you’re going to capture what you’ve learned in a cookbook or a restaurant menu, you’ll be translating it from the original expression into a new medium. That’s more of an art than a science in my opinion. But only if you have talent for that part (and a tremendous amount of vision and stamina)can you be successful. In four decades of working in this profession, I’ve never seen anyone “capture” and make millions on it.

Third, many of those who denounce my work focus on the simple fact that I’m white. All I’d have to do is claim that I had a Mexican great-grandmother, and I could be part of the club. Otherwise, all I seem to represent for these people—no matter how deep my knowledge, respect and love for the cuisine—is the oppressor, the usurper. Being told I can’t study, practice, share, celebrate the glories of Mexican cuisine simply because I’m white, simply because I don’t have a Mexican grandmother, is to be denied something that I identify with at the very core of my being. Isn’t that an example of racism, and aren’t we all trying to move past that in our modern society?

I will tell you the truth: I am not a person who looks at people through “race” eyes. I’d rather focus on the beauty that people all over the world are creating every day. Which means I’ve honestly never sat around wondering if I have gotten where I am because I’m white, wondering if I should feel angst-ridden guilt because I was born white. Honestly, what would that accomplish? Would it lead me to one day realize that my love for Mexico and it’s cuisine wasn’t true love, but mere appropriation. Would it lead me to repent, apologize to Mexico, and start cooking French food?

Instead, what keeps me up at night is wondering if Frontera’s Oaxacan black mole would satisfy my Oaxacan friends, if I’ve truly captured the soul of Yucatan on my latest series of Public Television shows, if any of our restaurant menus have strayed from Mexico’s true flavor balance, if we’ve packed our restaurant training manuals with enough cross-cultural information, if I’m equipping my staff adequately to leave the fold, open their own restaurants and improve what the world thinks of Mexican food.

So, please, I invite you to criticize me if you think I’m not talented at writing recipes, as a restaurant chef, or as a communicator on television. Criticize my work if you think it’s not well researched enough, or if you think all the years I’ve lived and traveled in Mexico isn’t enough to absorb the cuisine. But don’t criticize me for being white, for falling head over heels for Mexico and it’s incomparable cuisine, and for wanting to share it with the world.

quote:

Originally posted by Jimbo54:
Here is what the OP was referencing.

http://www.foxnews.com/lifesty...priation-debate.html

quote:

Originally posted by zoom6zoom:
Idiots can't tell appreciation from appropriation.

quote:

Originally posted by Jimbo54:
Here is what the OP was referencing.

http://www.foxnews.com/lifesty...priation-debate.html