MY INTRODUCTION TO EXOTIC ETHNIC CUISINE
William A. Wisdom

My family was very conventional, very suburban, very protestant in a great many ways. Their tastes in foods were particularly ordinary. I had heard of some strange foods. In the early 1940s, our next-door neighbors were strange folks--academics who rode English bicycles and owned a hi-fi set. Rumor had it that they actually ate yogurt, though I had no idea what that was. I certainly never saw them do it, and didn't want to. I had the impression that yogurt was something particularly disgusting. I can't remember when I first actually tasted it, though it was decades later. But I can distinctly remember my introduction to two other sorts of exotic food.

1949 -- age 14

The pain in my side was quickly diagnosed by our family doctor as appendicitis, and my father rushed me to Jefferson Hospital, where his friend Dr. Lemmon would remove the offending "organ". There is nothing of note to report about the medical procedure. But I spent several days recuperating in an old-fashioned "ward": eight beds in one large room, four on one side of the room and four on the other. I felt thoroughly miserable. But I was comforted and entertained by the fellow in the next bed, a South Philadelphian about 25 years old. He had taken a liking to me, and enjoyed chatting about anything and everything--primarily, I think, to relieve his misery as well as mine.

"Hey, kid!" He knew my name but he always called me "kid", in what I took to be a friendly way. "Hey, kid!" "Yeah?" "Ya know what I want?" "What do you want, Tony?" "I want a pizza pie." I had never even heard the word, much less eaten pizza pie. So I replied: "Well, maybe the nurse would bring you a piece of pie. Why don't you ask her?" "No, you jerk! Not a piece of pie! I said a pizza pie!!" In an effort to recover, I tried again: "Well, tell her you'd like a peach pie, then." With what I think was mock anger he hollered: "You are without a doubt the dumbest kid I've ever met." He managed to amuse everyone in the room but me.

But having finally understood what he was saying, I made sure that my folks got me some pizza pie as soon as possible, though in 1949 that was not a real easy thing to do in our neighborhood.

1953 -- age 18

I was a freshman in a small men's college in the middle of Connecticut. I don't remember urging my parents to let me take their second car, which they almost never used. It might have been their idea. In any event, having a car on campus made my life a little easier and more pleasant.

One day a senior and a junior whom I scarcely knew accosted me. "Hey, Wisdom. We're going to a party at Smith this weekend, and wondered if you'd like to come along with us. We'll go up for a dance on Saturday, find a floor to sleep on, have breakfast with some of the girls, and come back Sunday. How 'bout it?" "Well, I don't know. What sort of party is this?" "Well, it's...er...um...a Hillel party." "What's a Hillel?", I asked. "Oh, it's a sort of student club. C'mon along." "Well, O.K. How are we going to get there?" "We hadn't quite figured that out yet. But we'll work something out." "Well, I have a car. Why don't I drive us there?" Shocked disbelief!! Utter amazement!! "What's this??! Wisdom has a car!? Can you beat that?! Are you sure you'd like to drive?" I was feeling more and more important by the minute, and gladly drove four upperclassmen to Smith College for the weekend.

As a matter of fact, I had a great time. The dance and the sleeping accommodations were in the Hillel House. [For those of you who don't know--as I didn't know--Hillel is a social and cultural foundation for Jewish college students.] I got to sleep on the sofa, since I had driven. I was awakened by an attractive coed who said, "C'mon, Bill. Rise and shine. We've got lox and bagels for breakfast." Locks for breakfast?! Who ever heard of locks for breakfast? And I no more knew what a bagel was in 1953 than I knew what a pizza was in 1949.

What a treat it turned out to be! It was coffee and orange juice and lettuce and tomato and onion slices, as well as smoked salmon and solid, doughnut-shaped rolls...and whitefish salad and cucumber and on and on and on. This was one of the high points of my college career. I'm only sorry that I didn't discover "locks" until I was 18.


Copyright © 2003, William A. Wisdom