I decided to expand my dining horizons by inviting myself to the Tuesday Night Dinner festivities at the African Community Center (ACC) in Denver. The weekly dinners are open to anyone in the community, with one pre-requisite: you must bring a dish you love from your culture.
But I was faced with a sudden feeling of cultural culinary doubt. How could I explain my family’s traditional chicken and rice recipe is supposed to taste like rubber and birdseed?
Could I open the can of Manwich there, or should I throw the sloppy Joes together at home first? Did they really want me to show up with a blue box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese?
No. My heritage deserved better representation. So I reached above the refrigerator and pulled out the wooden recipe box my mom gave me when I went to college. I pulled out a single note card, entombed in dust. I wiped away the signs of age to reveal “Mom’s Hot Chicken Casserole.”
After a quick spin through King Soopers, I fired up the oven and began recreating a family masterpiece. Two hours and 26 minutes later, it was time to share with others.
An International Community
The Tuesday Night Dinner brings newly arrived refugees, the Denver African community, and other local residents together. With help from the ACC, refugees are able to resettle in Denver and receive educational and social services. The Center also helps refugees acclimate to their new surroundings, recover from trauma and develop the skills and knowledge needed to become a productive member of the Denver community.
“The object of refugee resettlement should not be a self-sufficient individual, but an individual who is a contributing member of society,” said Kevin Mohatt, the volunteer coordinator at the ACC in his monthly newsletter.
This sense of community became clear as everyone came together to transform a recreational room into a dining hall with tablecloths and water pitchers. As the women prepared a buffet table, a gaggle of children eagerly formed a line.
As I helped the mothers serve each child a potpourri of dishes, I smiled to myself with unfounded pride. What kid doesn’t like a warm chicken casserole with a layer of melted sharp cheddar and crumpled Ruffles Potato Chips on top?
I soon learned the answer – every kid at Tuesday Night Dinner.
I watched as each child approached the buffet, filled with anticipation and hope. As they drew near my Pyrex, their broad smiles and sparkling eyes quickly faded.
A chorus of “What’s that?” ensued. I tried to sell my casserole with an upbeat tone and smile, but it was like selling ham to a vegan. I was perplexed. I watched as the children gravitated towards a plate of chicken and a separate plate mounded with Ruffles Potato Chips. Those were my ingredients, just not mixed together.
I remembered how much I disliked my foods touching each other on my dinner plate as a kid and I started to understand their disgust.
My culinary spirits were briefly lifted by two mothers offering praise and requesting my family’s recipe.
Something New and Something Good
After the group finished feasting on everyone else’s dishes, we gathered in a circle for a tradition of sharing “something new and something good” that had transpired in our lives recently.
As the children wiggled happily in their chairs, Mohatt led off the activity with his excitement about his neighborhood pool opening for the season. As the introductions progressed, we came to a young mother who smiled shyly and motioned to her tiny infant asleep in the carrier beside her. The room fell silent as we tried to understand her speechless movements. Though the language barrier delayed our understanding, we realized that her newborn daughter is her “something new and something good.”
As my turn approached, I tried to think honestly of my “something new and something good.” I smiled and said, “‘I cooked a casserole this evening and I think a couple people enjoyed it.”
An effervescent six-year-old bounced out of his chair asking, “you think people liked it?”
“No,” I replied, “I hope people liked it.”
He giggled and plopped back in his seat.
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