Chopsticks

I bought some new chopsticks a couple of days ago. Last August, my kitchen didn’t make it when I moved to where I live now. Among the stuff that went missing was an old pair Chinese-style bamboo chopsticks that I had purchased in Bangkok a long time ago. I regularly used them to mostly cook with and sometimes to eat with. They were old, scorched and warped from usage, but they brought back good memories. Whenever I held them in my hand or saw them lying in the drawer with the rest of the cutlery, I’d remember times past.

I learned how to eat with chopsticks back in 1971 when some enterprising Japanese fellows open a yakitori restaurant near where I lived in Guam. I’d stop by the place for grilled chicken kebobs and other tasty morsels that I’d washed down with Kirin beer. I quickly became adept at using chopsticks for any sized food under any condition. Since then, I’ve used chopsticks while eating in Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Thailand as well as here in USA in restaurants and at home. Along with good eating, there are lots of great memories of friends and food.

In early 1972, I visited my dad in South Korea for about a month. At the time, he was a brigade commander stationed up by the DMZ. While I was there, my father was feted (along with other Americans at the post) by some local government officials at a traditional kisaeng house, and he took me along. We were served a huge multi-course Korean feast. My dad asked our hosts if they could rustle up a knife, spoon and fork for me, but he needed have bothered. I was more comfortable eating with chopsticks than the other Americans there-including him. I was able to eat with élan; I even could pick up the tiny pickled garlic cloves that eluded the rest of the Americans.

During my time in the Land of Morning Calm, I would eat lunch with a Korean friend when my dad was at his office. Usually we’d eat kimchee and rice using chopsticks. It was a nice and peaceful eating event that I remember with great fondness.

A few months after I returned Korea, I moved to Thailand for a year. In Isabel Allende’s novel Ripper, some of the characters, who supposedly very sophisticated folks, always ate Thai food in their home with chopsticks for an authentic culinary experience. I’ve also been to Thai restaurants in America that provide them on request. The truth, however, is that Thais normally use a tablespoon and a fork when eating-except, of course, when they’re eating Chinese or East Asian food. 

In particular, there are restaurants that specialize in serving a Chinese noodle soup called Gwit Diow. This wonderful soup is always eaten using chopsticks and a spoon. While I was in Thailand in 1972-73, I must have consumed galleons of this yummy fare.

When I return to Thailand during the 90s and since then, chopsticks are reserved for eating at East Asian restaurants and Gwit Diow shops. There is, of course, the Thai suki, but that’s more like Japanese shabu shabu and Chinese hot pot, and chopsticks and soups are the normal utensils in those eateries that specialize in that delicious communal repast. In Thailand, it’s normal to eat with friends and family. In fact, the lone Thai diner is considered a sad oddity. So, I have lots of culinary memories both using chopsticks or not.

Over the years, I’ve shown some of my young friends how to use chopsticks. Not too long ago, I got at text from one of them telling me how she went on date to eat sushi. She was able to use her chopsticks, but her date couldn’t. I was so proud.

As the picture shows, chopsticks come in different sizes and styles. Once when I returned from Bangkok, I bought some of my friends some very elegant chopsticks made out teak and other exotic woods. Some of my female friends still have theirs; they use them to put up the hair. 

To replace my old Chinese chopsticks I brought informal Japanese ones. They’re not fancy, but I like them. They bring back great memories.