I’m part Chinese and I agree that the perception of appropriation is a significant risk—“rare Chinese tofus” is off-putting enough to me that I would be hesitant to try a product marketed as such. This is despite being otherwise excited about the idea—I love tofu and am on a long campaign to find a tofu dish that my white American partner will enjoy. I think that, beyond chefs, you’ll need a base of everyday consumers who help the project take off, and IMO the most likely people to form that base are younger Asian-Americans. (For instance, I think the success of BTS and Korean skincare in the US was strongly predicated on an initial Asian-American base.)
For me personally, I think it’s not “rare” that bothers me, but “rare” and “Chinese” together. It reminds me of the stereotype that Chinese people are perpetual foreigners who can’t relate to Americans. I’ve heard a general rule to avoid implicitly playing into these stereotypes is to ask yourself whether the ethnic descriptor is necessary to get the point across. In this case, I don’t think it is, because tofu is already Chinese.
IMO, an easy fix here is to call each tofu by its place of origin or its Chinese name, as Pranay suggested. It’ll sound foreign enough to Westerners that it retains an “exotic” appeal (like gua sha, feng shui, or kung fu), and it’ll also be accurate and expressly honoring the culture of origin.
I would second having Chinese people on your staff, as well as looking into ways your project can benefit the rural villages whose people developed the tofu.
I’d also potentially suggest looking into, if you haven’t already:
the popularization of seitan, which is also an Asian food now used as a meat substitute—I don’t know anything else about it, but I assume that might be relevant!
the popularization of orange chicken, chow mein, and pad thai, all of which IIRC were coordinated by decentralized networks of immigrant-owned restaurants with the explicit goal of creating a food that bridged Asian and Western tastes
Thanks for sharing your concerns here and taking time to write this all out. I agree that framing these ingredients in a sensitive way is really important.
I would second having Chinese people on your staff, as well as looking into ways your project can benefit the rural villages whose people developed the tofu.
I’m definitely looking for other allies and partners!! If you know anyone, I’d love to connect :)
I’ve heard a general rule to avoid implicitly playing into these stereotypes is to ask yourself whether the ethnic descriptor is necessary to get the point across. In this case, I don’t think it is, because tofu is already Chinese.
I’d actually disagree pretty strongly on this point—I think “Chinese” is a pretty important descriptor.
For folks in China, calling something “Chinese” is generally a symbol of pride, the same way American products might brag that they’re “made in America.” There are definitely cases where this isn’t true (i.e. Trump’s “China virus”), but bad examples don’t seem like a reason to not use the label in positive ways.
Besides pride and respect, there seems to be important information value. In non-Asian American communities, tofu is treated as this homogenous pan-Asian thing. The reason I think this is problematic is a) it’s culturally insensitive, b) it’s factually inaccurate, and c) it compresses Asian food into a monotony that’s harder for folks outside the communities to understand and appreciate.
Tofu is not just a Chinese thing, but the varieties we’re using are mostly Chinese. In this sense, labelling them as Chinese helps fight the cultural flattening. It also allows folks to dig deeper into how these ingredients are different. (There are some “pan-Asian” tofus, like firm/soft/silken, but our team isn’t focused on those.)
The alternative, not calling them Chinese, seems worse to me. Almost like saying, don’t call Italian olive oil “Italian.” It would probably be seen as disrespectful to producers in China, like not giving them credit, and it would restrict consumer understanding.
I’m less certain about the “rare” label. It seems that the word can have both positive and negative connotations, and sometimes provide important information value.
The main reason I call these tofus rare is to distinguish them from ordinary tofus. Differentiating them seems important because a) most US non-Asian Americans don’t love ordinary tofu; b) this dislike stems from inherent characteristics of ordinary tofu, rather than branding, meaning that negative perceptions will likely continue into the near-term future (happy to share more—my team’s done a bit of research into this question); c) if “rare” tofus can’t distinguish themselves from ordinary tofus, they will run into the same consumer opposition; d) “rare” tofus are fundamentally different from ordinary ones and could have wide appeal amongst anti-tofu foodies.
I think it’s also accurate to call them “rare”, as they aren’t common in most of the world. Many of these tofus aren’t even common within China.
Consumers find rare/scarce things more exciting and appealing. This is true for everything from rare collectibles, exclusive events, limited edition specials, etc. I don’t think the connotations are inherently positive or negative—sometimes they can be othering, other times they can increase interest, but it really depends on context.
Business often exploit, commoditize, and market “exotic” or “foreign” culture. I think this is pretty sad for many reasons, including that it marginalizes folks in our communities who identify with that culture. I think marketing rare tofus to western cooks, in the way we’re hoping to do, however, has almost the opposite effect—it engages folks with ingredients they otherwise would not know about, creating bonds between the U.S. and China at a time of historical tension, over common concerns—fighting climate change and enjoying delicious food. I’m also not trying to “own” any cultural aspect—the more folks working on this project, the happier I will be.
It’s possible there’s a better synonym—curious if anyone has thoughts.
Ha, I never check my forum notifications—a belated thank you for responding and engaging with this, it’s clear that you’ve already really thought through a lot of the potential harms folks are bringing up which is much appreciated. I definitely see the reasons why each word individually makes sense, but I do also wonder if there’s a better synonym for rare.
The only thing I’d push back on is:
For folks in China, calling something “Chinese” is generally a symbol of pride, the same way American products might brag that they’re “made in America.” There are definitely cases where this isn’t true (i.e. Trump’s “China virus”), but bad examples don’t seem like a reason to not use the label in positive ways.
I think this is 100% true, and also the reason why Chinese-Americans find it off-putting. A lot of what second-gen folks like myself would call “cultural appropriation”, immigrants with stronger ties to their home country would say makes them proud to see their culture represented in American [media/culture/etc].
So I suppose I should clarify that I’m speaking from the POV of Asian-Americans, who might find it more distasteful (pun intended). Whereas native Chinese people and non-Asian Americans will probably resonate w/ the framing for all the reasons you share.
No need to respond to this one month later, just wanted to ~ close the loop ~
I’m part Chinese and I agree that the perception of appropriation is a significant risk—“rare Chinese tofus” is off-putting enough to me that I would be hesitant to try a product marketed as such. This is despite being otherwise excited about the idea—I love tofu and am on a long campaign to find a tofu dish that my white American partner will enjoy. I think that, beyond chefs, you’ll need a base of everyday consumers who help the project take off, and IMO the most likely people to form that base are younger Asian-Americans. (For instance, I think the success of BTS and Korean skincare in the US was strongly predicated on an initial Asian-American base.)
For me personally, I think it’s not “rare” that bothers me, but “rare” and “Chinese” together. It reminds me of the stereotype that Chinese people are perpetual foreigners who can’t relate to Americans. I’ve heard a general rule to avoid implicitly playing into these stereotypes is to ask yourself whether the ethnic descriptor is necessary to get the point across. In this case, I don’t think it is, because tofu is already Chinese.
IMO, an easy fix here is to call each tofu by its place of origin or its Chinese name, as Pranay suggested. It’ll sound foreign enough to Westerners that it retains an “exotic” appeal (like gua sha, feng shui, or kung fu), and it’ll also be accurate and expressly honoring the culture of origin.
I would second having Chinese people on your staff, as well as looking into ways your project can benefit the rural villages whose people developed the tofu.
I’d also potentially suggest looking into, if you haven’t already:
the popularization of seitan, which is also an Asian food now used as a meat substitute—I don’t know anything else about it, but I assume that might be relevant!
the popularization of orange chicken, chow mein, and pad thai, all of which IIRC were coordinated by decentralized networks of immigrant-owned restaurants with the explicit goal of creating a food that bridged Asian and Western tastes
Thanks for sharing your concerns here and taking time to write this all out. I agree that framing these ingredients in a sensitive way is really important.
I’m definitely looking for other allies and partners!! If you know anyone, I’d love to connect :)
I’d actually disagree pretty strongly on this point—I think “Chinese” is a pretty important descriptor.
For folks in China, calling something “Chinese” is generally a symbol of pride, the same way American products might brag that they’re “made in America.” There are definitely cases where this isn’t true (i.e. Trump’s “China virus”), but bad examples don’t seem like a reason to not use the label in positive ways.
Besides pride and respect, there seems to be important information value. In non-Asian American communities, tofu is treated as this homogenous pan-Asian thing. The reason I think this is problematic is a) it’s culturally insensitive, b) it’s factually inaccurate, and c) it compresses Asian food into a monotony that’s harder for folks outside the communities to understand and appreciate.
Tofu is not just a Chinese thing, but the varieties we’re using are mostly Chinese. In this sense, labelling them as Chinese helps fight the cultural flattening. It also allows folks to dig deeper into how these ingredients are different. (There are some “pan-Asian” tofus, like firm/soft/silken, but our team isn’t focused on those.)
The alternative, not calling them Chinese, seems worse to me. Almost like saying, don’t call Italian olive oil “Italian.” It would probably be seen as disrespectful to producers in China, like not giving them credit, and it would restrict consumer understanding.
I’m less certain about the “rare” label. It seems that the word can have both positive and negative connotations, and sometimes provide important information value.
The main reason I call these tofus rare is to distinguish them from ordinary tofus. Differentiating them seems important because a) most US non-Asian Americans don’t love ordinary tofu; b) this dislike stems from inherent characteristics of ordinary tofu, rather than branding, meaning that negative perceptions will likely continue into the near-term future (happy to share more—my team’s done a bit of research into this question); c) if “rare” tofus can’t distinguish themselves from ordinary tofus, they will run into the same consumer opposition; d) “rare” tofus are fundamentally different from ordinary ones and could have wide appeal amongst anti-tofu foodies.
I think it’s also accurate to call them “rare”, as they aren’t common in most of the world. Many of these tofus aren’t even common within China.
Consumers find rare/scarce things more exciting and appealing. This is true for everything from rare collectibles, exclusive events, limited edition specials, etc. I don’t think the connotations are inherently positive or negative—sometimes they can be othering, other times they can increase interest, but it really depends on context.
Business often exploit, commoditize, and market “exotic” or “foreign” culture. I think this is pretty sad for many reasons, including that it marginalizes folks in our communities who identify with that culture. I think marketing rare tofus to western cooks, in the way we’re hoping to do, however, has almost the opposite effect—it engages folks with ingredients they otherwise would not know about, creating bonds between the U.S. and China at a time of historical tension, over common concerns—fighting climate change and enjoying delicious food. I’m also not trying to “own” any cultural aspect—the more folks working on this project, the happier I will be.
It’s possible there’s a better synonym—curious if anyone has thoughts.
Ha, I never check my forum notifications—a belated thank you for responding and engaging with this, it’s clear that you’ve already really thought through a lot of the potential harms folks are bringing up which is much appreciated. I definitely see the reasons why each word individually makes sense, but I do also wonder if there’s a better synonym for rare.
The only thing I’d push back on is:
I think this is 100% true, and also the reason why Chinese-Americans find it off-putting. A lot of what second-gen folks like myself would call “cultural appropriation”, immigrants with stronger ties to their home country would say makes them proud to see their culture represented in American [media/culture/etc].
So I suppose I should clarify that I’m speaking from the POV of Asian-Americans, who might find it more distasteful (pun intended). Whereas native Chinese people and non-Asian Americans will probably resonate w/ the framing for all the reasons you share.
No need to respond to this one month later, just wanted to ~ close the loop ~