Supermarket Sweep
Our strongest memories are tied to smell and taste largely because those senses are tied more directly to the amygdala and hippocampus than the others; the hippocampus, in particular, is the part of the brain that transfers short-term memory to long-term memory. There's a point to all this. Supermarkets loom largely in my own developmental memories; it was rare that my mother went out to get groceries without me and/or my sister growing up and she worked at one herself during her time her in the United States.
Perhaps the most vibrant memories, in that regard, tend to come from Asian supermarkets because they're so markedly different than something like Safeway or Giant. And a lot of that absolutely comes from the smells and tastes from that little slice of East Asia that had come to Northern Virginia. Walking in the door, you're being greeted with a whole host of aromas that aren't particularly common in America; a blend of garlic powder, Korean red pepper, and some pretty gnarly produce since they tend to put that section near the entrance. Whenever I'd go grocery shopping with a girlfriend in a Super H Mart or Lotte World, they were always surprised by the otherworldly types of produce they had never seen before: jack fruit, Korean melons, durian, dragon fruit (It's more than just a Vitamin Water flavor). It's always interesting watching people see this stuff for the first time when it was ever just something I had always taken for granted.
The other sections are fairly self-explanatory but the sight of a full-on beauty counter like a department store in the middle of supermarket tends to throw folks off too. Less conspicuous is the cafe that most Asian supermarkets keep in the back. Besides the typical coffeeshop fare, you'd see staples like sweet potato lattes and a whole array of pastries that always smelled and looked delicious but never quite taste as good as I hope. I've mentioned on here before that the big thing I always kind of found lacking in Korean cuisine is that it's not particularly sweet. A lot of desserts are derived from natural sweetness found in bean pastes and rice milk which is all fine and good and healthier, I guess, but it's not what I eat dessert for. It's also probably why I have a bit of a sweet tooth: Real sweet stuff was like the holy fucking grail reinforced by the fact that growing up its availability coincided with birthdays and major holidays.
If I was good, my mother would treat me to deep-fried squid and those Korean yogurt drinks that only vaguely taste like dairy through the tartness that would stick to your tongue on the after-taste. The squid was chewier than a piece of saltwater taffy but it was deep-fried which somehow makes everything better. As a dessert we would get gaepi-tteok which look like multi-colored slimy dumplings with that sweet bean paste inside that isn't really all that sweet and had oils that you could feel on your fingers for hours afterwards.
As I started to get older, the squid was swapped out for Korean fried chicken and the gaepi-tteok with soboro bread sometimes with a little Japanese shu cream; this was as sweet as Korean cuisine gets and the fried chicken featured a robust spice and sweetness thanks to a mix of Korean red pepper, honey, and brown sugar. How is it that Korean entrees are sweeter than the desserts? You can taste it in the BBQ too.
Anyway, as soon I walk into an Asian supermarket nowadays I get that blast of nostalgia right there with all those familiar smells. I try to go somewhat sparingly as to not desensitize myself from the experience, attempting to recapture something I left behind. But, at the end of the day, I spent the first couple decades of my life embracing my Caucasian side. That'll always be there, I'll never really be at odds with it, and it continues to be the environment I live in. But as I get older, I want to give that untapped half of heritage more acknowledgement rather than run the risk of living half a life. And the supermarket is a formative part of that.
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| More like "jacked" fruit, am I right?!...I'm sorry. |
If I was good, my mother would treat me to deep-fried squid and those Korean yogurt drinks that only vaguely taste like dairy through the tartness that would stick to your tongue on the after-taste. The squid was chewier than a piece of saltwater taffy but it was deep-fried which somehow makes everything better. As a dessert we would get gaepi-tteok which look like multi-colored slimy dumplings with that sweet bean paste inside that isn't really all that sweet and had oils that you could feel on your fingers for hours afterwards.
As I started to get older, the squid was swapped out for Korean fried chicken and the gaepi-tteok with soboro bread sometimes with a little Japanese shu cream; this was as sweet as Korean cuisine gets and the fried chicken featured a robust spice and sweetness thanks to a mix of Korean red pepper, honey, and brown sugar. How is it that Korean entrees are sweeter than the desserts? You can taste it in the BBQ too.
Anyway, as soon I walk into an Asian supermarket nowadays I get that blast of nostalgia right there with all those familiar smells. I try to go somewhat sparingly as to not desensitize myself from the experience, attempting to recapture something I left behind. But, at the end of the day, I spent the first couple decades of my life embracing my Caucasian side. That'll always be there, I'll never really be at odds with it, and it continues to be the environment I live in. But as I get older, I want to give that untapped half of heritage more acknowledgement rather than run the risk of living half a life. And the supermarket is a formative part of that.
