Solace in Aisle 10

Everything is different here, even the orange juice. The cheese crackers. The vegetables. The meat. Even Doritos is a new, exotic thing. And television lied: no one ever takes groceries home in brown paper bags.  

All this food is so...American. Which makes sense. This is America, of course.

But I’ve grown up with a severely Filipino appetite, one that I will probably never shake off (nor do I want to. I mean, have you had lumpia? Pancit? Pork adobo? Exactly). When my family immigrated to this country, I counted on my parents to cook all my favorite dishes from home. We would hop from Asian market to Asian market, searching for ingredients and settling for what was close enough. With each passing year, I felt more and more American–but there’s no running away from who I am. And often, who I am is also what I eat. 

Now that I’m on my own, it’s up to me to continue to cook and eat like a Filipino. My search for something more than just the Asian food tucked between jars of salsa and boxes of taco shells in aisle 10 of Walmart became a mission to preserve my connection to my family, my past, and my culture. It is also a search for comfort and familiarity in the midst of unfamiliar places and people. No matter where I go, I’ll be okay as long as I can buy a bag of Chippy somewhere.

Within the aisles of every Asian supermarket (and if I’m really lucky, a Seafood City), I find solace. Everything is different here, and I’m different now, too–but I’ll always be excited for a plate of adobo and rice.