For many in the Chinese community, eating Peking duck instead of turkey provides a means of integrating a taste of home into American culture.
The last time I ever linked Peking duck to the holidays was after watching A Christmas Story, when, after a series of hilarious holiday debacles, Ralphie and his family have no choice but to eat “Christmas turkey” at the local Chinese restaurant— the only restaurant open on Christmas Day. However, thanks to the presence of Houston’s burgeoning Chinese community, eating Peking duck during Thanksgiving and Christmas doesn’t necessarily mean that the neighborhood beasts have devoured your turkey dinner.
For many in the Chinese community, eating Peking duck instead of turkey provides a means of integrating a taste of home into American culture. America is no longer as predominantly Christian and white as it used to be, and sharing celebration food from home is another avenue for America’s newest members to participate in holiday celebration. There are even some Jewish households that treat themselves to Peking duck and Chinese food on Christmas Day.
In a break with family tradition, I sat down to enjoy my first Peking duck on a Thanksgiving visit to my boyfriend’s Chinese family. After a few bites of juicy, aromatic duck meat, I already preferred it to dry, bland Turkey slathered in gravy. The shiny skin was fried so perfectly that you could taste where the feathers were plucked out, lending the moist, flavorful meat a sweet, crispy texture. Peking duck is seasoned with garlic, sugar, and spices long before roasting, so it inherently tastes better, and the method in which it’s served doesn’t leave you feeling bloated and stuffed.
The culinary experience doesn’t comprise of merely switching out game birds—it’s just one element of a greater dish. Once the components are combined, it’s kind of like a wrap; Chinese steamed pancakes encase succulent duck meat resting on a bed of fresh scallions, drizzled in sweet hoisin sauce. Our duck was flanked by various side dishes, ranging from spicy fuqi feipian (sliced beef and offal) to oily youtiao (fried breadstick). Making sure the precious duck, bred for the occasion, did not go to waste after our meal, the waiter brought out a large bowl of broth, procured from essence of cabbage and duck bones. It seemed to have the healing powers of chicken soup, just more potent.
If ever you tire of the classic turkey shtick, accompanied by a gang of cranberry sauce, stuffing, and mashed potatoes, then I must suggest you try Peking duck instead; I dare say it wouldn’t be breaking off too severely with tradition, merely integrating the traditions of other American subcultures into your celebration of thanks, reveling in the rich cultural diversity of our great nation. Happy Thanksgiving!
