At the Asian Grocer
Since my late teens, I’ve window shopped in Asian grocery stores. Cloistered in suburban Australia, I had a fascination with the world outside, yet lacked the means to travel. The shelves of these stores, full of items of which I’d never heard, offered glimpses into other ways of cooking, eating, and living.
Timidly, I’d venture in and browse around. I’d buy an item or two to try at home, always a little unsure of what the shop attendant would think of me (did she know I had no idea what to do with the pomegranate molasses I’d just bought?). In those days before YouTube, recipes with “exotic” ingredients were hard to come by. My experiments, unsurprisingly, mostly ended in failure. But it didn’t stop me coming back.
Now, in these uninspiring days, when international travel is off the agenda, trips to my local Asian grocer rank amongst my favourite outings. I still browse far longer than I should. Still, I fret that this may irritate the owner — especially on those occasions when after twenty minutes’ browsing, I leave with only a handful of items.
But I can’t help it. Every unfamiliar jar of pickles or packet of spice awakens a childlike curiosity, holding out the promise of flavours and styles of cooking until now unknown to me. I speculate on the conditions in which they are farmed, processed, packaged, and consumed. And I know that for someone, each of those jars and packets offer a connection to home or to places they once travelled and now miss.
Today, while browsing Bendigo’s Asianfoods Emporium, I eavesdropped on a father and daughter. She looked to be around 12 years old. They were making a slow meander around the store, much in the manner that I have always done. I felt a peculiar solidarity — as I’d never quite known if I was the only one who indulged in this peculiar habit.
“Now, this is jaggery,” he said to her. His tone was hushed, as though he were a guide in a museum. “It’s sweet. In India, they use it instead of sugar.”
“Is it like palm sugar?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” he pondered. “But I don’t really know what it’s made from…”
She didn’t seem bored. I wondered if she had an interest in cooking — or in travel. Perhaps her dad’s little tour was opening a fresh perspective on food and on the world. And if she was anything like me, the effects of this trip to the grocery store might ripple out across her life.
This sweet exchange made me reflect on the unsung social value of these stores. Periodically, they are demonised by right-wing media commentators: harbingers of an “Asian takeover of Australia.”
Well, for me — a white Australian — these humble stores have served as enriching pedagogical sites. They prompted me to develop my knowledge and skills in relation to diverse cuisines, and deepened my curiosity for worlds outside my own. Undoubtedly, they played a background role in fostering my interest in Asia — which became the foundation for my career to date. And they also helped spark countless cross-cultural connections by way of food.
