From Family Feasts to Cultural Connections: Exploring Canada’s Diverse Dining Traditions

For my 26th birthday, I chose Congee Queen, a cozy spot where the food is simple but delicious. Growing up, my parents would have picked a place like this. As a blend of immigrants and international students, my friends were unsure about the menu. So, I decided to order for everyone, just like my mom always did.

We dug into black pepper squid, noodle dishes, and rich congee. The waiter teased me, and my friends laughed. It was a familiar role for me—playing host even when it wasn’t my house. But that night, I paused. Why did I feel the need to share so much?

When I was a teenager, my mom handed me a menu and said, “You know what we like.” It felt like she was passing down a tradition of care—a way to ensure no one felt left out.

In the Philippines, where my family originated, mealtimes were very different. My grandparents would fish, and my family would prepare meals together. Dining out wasn’t really an option. My parents taught me to value communal meals. If you had food, you shared it. My mom still cooks enough to feed an army whenever I visit, packing containers for me before I can ask.

But outside my family circle, this care sometimes doesn’t connect. I’ve offered food to friends only to realize they didn’t do the same. I felt awkward, like I was the one overstepping. In my culture, a clean plate signals you didn’t prepare enough. Leftovers are a sign of generosity.

Meals were meant to spill over onto everyone’s plates—extra rice, extra spoons. If you didn’t send guests home with leftovers, you’d risk being seen as stingy. Generosity is a way to show you care.

After moving out to be closer to my job, something felt amiss. I missed the noise of family meals—the cassava cake and the macaroni salad. The absence of my dad’s coffee mug underlined the emptiness.

I understand the merit of ordering individually. It caters to personal tastes and dietary needs. One night, I ordered a deep-fried soft-shell crab sandwich just for myself. It felt empowering, a step toward embracing my own preferences.

Feeling uncomfortable about taking space is still a challenge, but it’s freeing too. Maybe my habit of ordering too much will linger, but I’m learning to be just me. In that, I find strength.

### A Cultural Reflection

This blend of personal experience and cultural background highlights how food brings people together. According to recent studies, 72% of people believe sharing meals strengthens relationships. In many cultures, especially communal ones, food symbolizes connection and belonging. Sharing meals isn’t just about the food; it’s about nurturing relationships.

As I navigate my own journey, I’m learning that it’s okay to embrace both worlds—individual choice and communal spirit. And whether I over-order or eat alone, it’s all part of being true to myself.



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