This week, hubby is teaching a Building Automation Course to men from around the world. Tajikistan, Romania, Sudan, Cameroon, Uzbekistan, Algeria, and Ohio are the foreign countries represented by the ten students. Typically, we would invite them to our home for a party, but since we are in the midst of renovation H-E-double hockey sticks, that is not a possibility. Actually, I guess it is a possibility, but we don’t want their first glimpse of American family life to be a ragingly insane woman standing amidst piles of plaster dust and stacks of 2x4s, screaming, “Whose idea was it to pull out the kitchen sink six weeks before installing the new one?!”
Instead, we invited them to my best friend’s house for her annual Fourth of July party. She is also doing some remodeling, but she hasn’t been at it as long as we have, so she still has a few shreds of sanity. And a kitchen sink. Of course her remodeling project is slightly less involved than ours. All she needs is forty sheets of bead board, fifteen paint swatches, and a husband with two days off work and she’ll be on the cover of House Beautiful.
Our international guests thoroughly enjoyed participating in a good, old-fashioned, All-American Fourth of July celebration. During the days leading up to the fourth, our hometown becomes a showcase of patriotism and Americana, topped off with a huge parade and a spectacular fireworks display. Since my friend lives pretty much right on the parade route, she always has an enormous crowd and a ton of food. It’s a virtual smorgasbord of American delicacies that you won’t find in Romania or the Sudan. I guarantee this was their first taste of Waldorf Salad, Chili Frito Dip, and hot dogs blackened to perfection.
The real showcase was the dessert table. According to some reports, each American consumes 156 pounds of sugar per year. Christmas, Easter, Valentine’s Day, and July Fourth are our top days of consumption. We walk around in a sugar daze, barely cognizant of the fact that we are still actively stuffing desserts into our faces, but we are happy! And really, isn’t that what being free is all about? We have the freedom to self-destruct on a sugar overdose if we choose to do so, and no one can stop us!
In my opinion, our international friends don’t really enjoy sweets enough. Every country I’ve visited has delicious looking desserts, but, with the exception of the ice cream in Germany, they are always a disappointment. They never actually taste sweet. The student from Cameroon asked many questions about American cuisine, and specifically wanted to know if we eat yams. “Oh, yes!” I replied. “We mash them with sugar and cinnamon and put a crunchy topping on them. Or when we are giving thanks for our country, we bake them with marshmallows!”
He wasn’t impressed. He told me that in his country, any time you start to add sugar, it is deemed a child’s food. I took another bite of my chewy chocolate chip cookie, and tried to comprehend what he was saying. He continued, “If you offer a man a cookie, it would be an insult. Cookies are for children.”
I replied, “You probably call them biscuits instead of cookies, don’t you?”
He nodded in the affirmative.
I don’t know what it is with these other countries. My international friends wouldn’t know a good pie if it hit ‘em in the face! Last week at Vacation Bible School, my teenage daughter was chosen to get clobbered with pie. She was on her knees, and all the kids chanted, “Pie in the eye!” while the child with the most points had the privilege of performing the actual deed. As soon as the pan came down, small children ran up and started sticking their fingers in her face, swiping off the pie so they could taste it. I’ll admit, I was tempted to do the same.
It’s the American way. Except for the flag, nothing symbolizes us more than a good old Apple Pie with ice cream. We don’t outgrow it, and we don’t consider it child’s food. In fact, I have often limited my children’s sugar consumption while I am dishing up a second helping of chocolate cake for myself. When our remodeling is finally finished, my new kitchen will be the sight of a massive baking spree. I will have three ovens going full blast, and I intend to turn out cookies, cakes, and pies in every flavor. I will cover every surface with sugary, sticky, pots and pans. And after months of deprivation, I’ll be happily washing them all in my new kitchen sink!
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