"What's in that?"

Dear Mr./Ms. Curious,

Some people might enjoy being cultural ambassadors. I personally don't. I like being left alone when enjoying my mooncakes, broken rice, or whatever cultural oddity I might be consuming. I don't want you to express an interest in my culture. If you ask me what I am eating, I will answer, "Mooncake," or whatever translation I have already prepared in anticipation of someone asking me.

This is where you leave me the eff alone and consult your smartphone. It's connected to the internet and someone on the internet who loves mooncakes can tell you every GD ingredient. I honestly don't know whether it's baked or steamed. I don't know what the filling is made of. I don't want to compare it to any Chinese/Japanese/Korean/Thai dish that you may be familiar with. I don't know what typical moon cakes look like or what they represent. I don't want to tell you the origin of the moon festival or every myth that surrounds it. I am trying to effing eat my moon cake.

I didn't know the difference between a wot and a tib. I looked it up! I still can't really tell the difference between a flauta and a taquito, but when someone offered me one or the other, I fucking ate it. I didn't sniff and wrinkle my nose. I didn't demand to know every single ingredient before putting it in my mouth. It's just one bite! From that point, I formed an opinion. It's a simple system. I encourage you to try it.

In closing, I implore you to take a bite of this or stfu.

Love,

Anh