Curry chicken vs. chicken curry and how cultural differences give spice to life
Routine representation the key to normalising diversity
Playing the look-a-like game as a brown girl in a mostly white school in southern Ontario, it was difficult for friends to find an answer when it was my turn, eventually landing on cartoon princess Jasmine from Aladdin.
She was a drawing, but at least she was brown.
I remembered that childhood game when Simu Liu recently called out a similar look-a-like segment during an NBA All-Star event where fans were put on the arena's screen, compared to a celebrity player.
While Liu gracefully complimented his supposed doppelgänger, he rightly asserted that they did not look anything alike whatsoever, aside from simply being Asian.
Over two years ago, I was asked to work as a food and cultural consultant for a new sitcom called Run the Burbs, a comedy featuring a young, mixed family living in the suburbs. The Phams are Vietnamese on one side (led by star and co-creator, Andrew Phung), and Indian on the other, specifically Gujarati, brought by his on-screen partner Camille (Rakhee Mozaria).
I was born in Montréal, and my family is from the north and south of India. I spent years of my childhood happily ping-ponging back and forth between home and the subcontinent. I wondered if I would be seen as Indian "enough" to take on the responsibility of helping shape how the diaspora would be depicted on this show.
But my first meeting with the production team was over video, and as my screen filled with new squares, a remarkable range of faces was visible. When I spoke to specific cultural touchstones, some nodded in understanding, and those who didn't asked pertinent questions with care. There was an immediate comfort in the dialogue, one that felt truly collaborative and respectful. It felt like being called in, instead of standing out.
It was evident from the start that Run the Burbs prioritized all expressions of identity, their intersections and all the different ways to be Canadian. It's the kind of "routine" representation of a marginalized group that is essential to further validate diverse lived experiences.
For my part in Run the Burbs, my responsibilities vary. I give feedback on stories and scripts, brainstorming meals or dishes to be made in a scene, or even simply answering writers' questions about cooking techniques and Indian traditions.
I go back and forth with the prop department and set decoration teams, sharing inspirational photos, including my own home and kitchen, to help hone in on details to make the Pham house feel similarly lived in.
I've enlisted a Guju aunty for all manner of opinions, recorded my mum's Hindi pronunciation of Bollywood titles for actor reference, and sometimes I might even be on set to help with food or culture-centric storylines and episodes.
Curry vs. Curry
The show's cultural inclusivity allows for unique opportunities, such as the curry showdown in the episode "Culture Phest." The not-so-friendly-friendly cooking competition arose from an idea that actor Jonathan Langdon had for a faceoff between chicken curry (Camille's South Asian recipe) and curried chicken (neighbour Hudson's Caribbean contribution), with Andrew suggesting cà ri gà from Vietnam.
"When developing ideas for the show, our writers' room is constantly reflecting on their own experiences," Phung says.
"Once we had this curry war idea the ideas just spiralled, and it was so easy to connect the episode to the larger arc of the season for these characters."
Curry, likely derived from the Tamil word kari, is a globally beloved spice blend spread by trade and colonizers. Every region has their own, the various permutations of a stewed curry-spiced dish with gravy, and these recipes are entrenched in those histories.
We used this chance to showcase the breadth of curries, from the mild and fresh cà ri gà to subtly sweet Japanese curry, to vibrant curry chicken.
For Camille's contribution, we went with a curry inspired by the Malabar coast, full of mustard seeds and black pepper. The episode equality honours their commonalities and the differences which make each version special.
Otherness vs. Belonging
As a visible minority woman, one of the groups historically underrepresented in how we depict Canadians, no matter how I see myself, it can feel as if my inclusion is with an asterisk.
I was once told by a beloved teacher, who had only the best intentions, that giving me the lead in the school play would be too much of a distraction since the male lead was white.
It's the quiet, unintentional slights meant without malice that are particularly tricky to untangle, that the colour of my skin makes my Canadianness somehow less. And it's not just back in my childhood.
It's the spontaneous, intimate questions of nationality or "what are you?" in professional settings, on tour for my cookbook, or at the grocery checkout. These are the small ways we are reminded of our conspicuous otherness, it is how the minority becomes marginalized.
Run the Burbs actualizes a different sort of diversity. It assumes belonging.
The Phams and their friends do not live in the margins. Their ethnicities are not punchlines or appropriated for noble immigrant gravitas. They are not backward or out of touch. Culture is treasured and radically mundane.
Ethnicity is a facet of these characters' expansive wholes. They can be the funny one, the tall one, the loud one, the entrepreneurial one, the comedian, the slacker, or the artist. They can be your neighbours. Or you.
In the "Culturephest" episode, the range of curries deftly maintains the playfulness at the heart of the show while showcasing the heritage of curry dishes around the world. It doesn't come across as a "very special episode" or an outlier separate from the rest of the season.
It's merely another day in Rockridge.
Run the Burbs airs Wednesday nights on CBC Television and is streaming free on CBC Gem.