Asian fusion cuisines reflect a uniquely American narrative
The United States has long been referred to as a 'melting pot,' a term that still holds relevance, particularly in the realm of food. Immigrants have spent generations blending their traditional recipes with local ingredients or altering them to appeal to diverse American palates.
Asian fusion has emerged as one of the most popular culinary innovations. These cross-cultural dishes weave a fascinating tale, from the early 1900s when chow mein was adapted for European tastes, to the fusion of Korean barbecue with Mexican tacos nearly a century later. Each dish represents a different chapter in the story of American immigration—some fading, others rising in popularity. Let’s explore the origins of a few of these creations.
Korean-Mexican cuisine unites Los Angeles
Kogi BBQ’s taco truck isn’t just a fusion of flavors, as chef Roy Choi puts it. It’s a ‘psychedelic intersection’ of cultures, shaped within the 3-mile radius of L.A.'s Koreatown, making it a truly ‘Los Angeles’ food experience for and by the children of immigrants in America.
Choi shared with Dinogo that his cuisine blends traditional flavors from this region, drawing from Korean, Central American, Mexican, and Bangladeshi culinary influences. He fondly recalls watching local aunties and mothers preparing and selling their food on street corners.
He explained that the Kogi BBQ truck was a way of honoring the history and legacy of street food—'the loncheras and taqueiros'—as it was deeply rooted in their cultural traditions.
Choi revealed that the idea for the Kogi short rib taco came to him after a wild night out, when his business partner suggested swapping carne asada for Korean barbecue in a taco. Now, the signature short rib taco comes topped with cilantro, onion, lime, and a tangy relish salad reminiscent of a Korean barbecue appetizer. Choi also creates a unique salsa verde that combines Korean chiles, dried Mexican chiles, and fresh California ingredients.
Choi shared that his food resonates with a generation of children raised outside their 'mother' countries.
'We were raised jumping between two cultures and languages. But we still had to figure out what it meant to be American. That constant struggle with identity—living in that in-between space—is what defines our food,' Choi explained.
Whether he's crafting slippery shrimp, shaking beef, or Kogi tacos, Choi describes his dishes as transformations of original recipes that no longer resemble their names. Over time, these changes give rise to a new type of cuisine—much like how Hawaiian plate lunch became its own culinary category, or how Italian-American food evolved into its own distinct style.
For now, Choi believes we're witnessing the birth of a new culture: 'When people took a bite of this taco, it felt like, for the first time, L.A. had truly come together in one mouthful.'
The Vietnamese refugee influence on Louisiana cuisine
Chef Nini Nguyen explained that Viet-Cajun cuisine began to emerge when a large wave of Vietnamese refugees arrived in Louisiana following the Vietnam War. However, the real culinary transformation didn’t occur until after Hurricane Katrina. These pivotal events reshaped entire communities and forever changed their food culture.
After the Vietnam War, Nguyen’s family settled in New Orleans, where many other Vietnamese refugees were resettled and supported by the Catholic Church.
New Orleans felt strikingly familiar to this new immigrant community. The city had its own experience with French colonialism, shared a similar hot and humid climate, and had a robust seafood culture. Additionally, the people drank coffee with milk, had their own take on beignets, and the po’ boy bread bore a resemblance to the Vietnamese banh mi baguette.
'I only eat po’ boys with Vietnamese bread,' Nguyen shared. The light and airy texture of Vietnamese bread comes from baking the dough the same day it's prepared, in contrast to the denser French baguettes that are left to ferment. Nguyen believes this texture is better suited to hot and humid climates.
Nguyen emphasizes that for many years, her family and other Vietnamese immigrants learned to prepare traditional Creole dishes, closely following the local recipes and techniques. While she noticed Vietnamese-owned stores tweaking the local flavors—such as adding Vietnamese fish sauce or chicken bouillon powder—the changes were subtle rather than drastic.
'It's a fine balance,' she said. 'For a long time, we felt the need to adjust our dishes to cater to their tastes, because that's what they wanted. We wanted to respect their cuisine, while also staying true to our own.'
When Hurricane Katrina struck in 2005, many residents of New Orleans moved to Houston, where Nguyen said they felt liberated to experiment with their cooking.
Before long, crawfish boils were transformed with rich, buttery sauces infused with garlic, lemongrass, Thai basil, and tamarind. Banh mi po' boys featured crispy, saucy fried shrimp, topped with pickles, cucumber, and cilantro. Meanwhile, Vietnamese coffee in the U.S. had become closely linked to New Orleans’ Café du Monde, with the café’s signature orange-yellow tins filled with chopsticks found in Vietnamese restaurants.
Nguyen explained that while the cuisine of New Orleans is rooted in Creole traditions, the food from rural Louisiana is typically considered Cajun.
'We call it Viet Cajun, but it's really just Louisiana food,' Nguyen said, describing this Vietnamese-influenced cuisine. 'We’re at a point now where, one – we feel free to experiment, which is beautiful, and two – people are excited to try these kinds of dishes. It's an exciting time for Vietnamese people to truly express themselves, wherever they are.'
As some people have returned to Louisiana from Texas, the popularity of 'Viet Cajun' food has grown. Nguyen is now working on a cookbook that will feature her fusion recipes, including blackened catfish with curry and lemongrass.
Chino-Latino cuisine still thrives in New York
Jose Tso clarified that he doesn’t consider Chinese-Cuban food to be 'fusion.' Instead, he views it as simply serving Spanish-style dishes alongside Cantonese Chinese food, each in its own right.
'They just complement each other,' Tso explained. 'Spanish cooking is often bold and heavily seasoned, focusing on grilling, broiling, or frying. Cantonese-style Chinese food, on the other hand, is less about frying and more about sautéing, steaming, or cooking with water in the wok. So when you’ve got a mouthful of rich, oily Spanish food, pairing it with some fresh, lightly cooked Chinese vegetables balances everything out perfectly,' Tso said.
Tso and his nephews now run Flor de Mayo, a family-owned restaurant with three locations across New York City. Tso explained that the name 'Flor de Mayo' is Spanish for 'Mayflower,' symbolizing the spirit of pilgrims who sailed across the seas in search of a better life.
Tso shared that Phillip Chu and William Cho, the original founders of Flor de Mayo, came to New York from Guangzhou (formerly Canton) via Peru. When they arrived in the U.S. in the late '60s and early '70s, the Chinese-Latin restaurant scene was already thriving, with hundreds of Chinese immigrants who had fled Cuba during the 1950s revolution and started restaurants in the U.S.
Chu and Cho gained experience working in several of these restaurants, eventually landing at one called Asia Star. When the owner retired, they took over and rebranded it as Flor de Mayo.
Today, Tso shared that Flor de Mayo continues to serve Cuban classics like steak tenderloin with sautéed onions, ground or chopped beef in sauce, sautéed beef, chicken liver, rice, beans, plantains, and avocados. At one location, they also added Peruvian-style rotisserie chicken. Their Chinese menu includes steamed vegetables, pork chops, fried rice, spare ribs, wontons, and lo mein.
While Spanish dishes require more pre-seasoning before frying, Chinese dishes are typically seasoned while being sautéed in a wok. Over the years, Flor de Mayo has become adept at preparing both cuisines in a single kitchen.
'Our Spanish food and Chinese food are interchangeable in terms of cooking techniques... Some Spanish dishes can even be prepared in the wok,' Tso explained.
However, the tradition is slowly fading. The largest waves of Chinese immigrants who arrived in the U.S. through South and Central America came mainly in the 20th century. Tso noted that those who still arrive via this route today tend to have higher levels of education, which opens doors to more skilled job opportunities.
Running a restaurant, Tso said, offers stability—like a steady income—but won’t make you rich. 'To achieve that steady income, you invest a lot of time... These days, the next generation isn’t interested in this kind of lifestyle,' he added.
According to Tso’s estimates, there are now fewer than 10 Chinese-Latin restaurants remaining in Manhattan.
A chow mein sandwich becomes a staple in a Massachusetts town
Regina Mark’s Mee Sum restaurant may not have been the birthplace of the chow mein sandwich, but it has become one of the modern-day champions of this quirky tradition. It has caught the eye of foodie Instagrammers, serving as a reminder of the once-thriving industry in Fall River, Massachusetts.
Mark’s in-laws’ family immigrated from Canton, now known as Guangzhou, in the early 20th century. They made their way through Arkansas and Rhode Island before settling in Fall River, a booming textile town at the time, populated by European immigrants who worked in factories and mills.
Mark explained that Europeans were accustomed to having garlic bread with their pasta and wanted bread with every meal. Local Chinese restaurants were already serving chow mein with a few slices of bread, allowing customers to soak up the brown gravy and push around the noodles.
'One day, a restaurant ran out of sliced bread,' Mark recalled. 'The owner said, 'The only thing I have is hamburger buns. Would you mind?' So, the customer took the buns home, tried it, and liked it. He came back and said, 'I made a chow mein sandwich with it, and you should start doing that,'" Mark said.
Today, you can order this dish served on a plate, with crispy noodles smothered in brown gravy, spilling out between the two halves of a hamburger bun. Or, for takeout, it can be eaten like a burger, wrapped in wax paper. As the sandwich cools, the gravy thickens, helping the noodles and bun stay together.
In the 1940s, Mark said the original Mark Restaurant was located above a movie theater in downtown Fall River. After a film, moviegoers could head upstairs and get a chow mein sandwich, soda, and dessert for just 50 cents. The menu also included fish and chips, fries, and coleslaw. But introducing fried rice and egg rolls to the locals was a challenge.
'At first, we'd sell maybe a dozen egg rolls a week. When my in-laws put them on the menu, people didn’t even know what they were. 'What is this?' they’d ask. But over time, they learned, and now we sell hundreds and hundreds,' Mark said.
The original Mark Restaurant is now closed, but her in-laws opened Mee Sum Restaurant in 1950, which is still in operation today under the next generation of Marks. Their chow mein sandwich and fried rice are notably darker than those of other Chinese restaurants. Mark explained that she uses caramel coloring to create a richer, beef-like appearance.
'People’s first impression of food is through its appearance. If they don’t like what they see, they won’t want to try it,' she said. 'Food brings joy to people. No matter the time, you can always entertain guests with food.'
Mark recalled the difficult journey her in-laws faced when they first arrived in the US by boat. They settled in a town where other Asian immigrant families were initially wary of new restaurant competition, all while struggling to keep their home warm with very little money.
Today, her family’s restaurant stands as an integral part of the Fall River community. While Mark isn’t sure if anyone from the younger generation is ready to take over, for now, she and her family continue to welcome both locals and visitors who travel from afar to enjoy their famous chow mein sandwich.
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Evaluation :
5/5