Every now and then, I like to take food to work. Not just my own lunch, but something to share with the coworkers. We like to do that every so often; at least once a month, we sometimes have potlucks at work. I felt like making chop suey and I made a lot.
I like sharing food at work. Everyone likes free food at work! It promotes morale and feelings of good will. Well, mostly. As most of my coworkers were enjoying the chop suey, there was one coworker, the loud one in our group, who declared that what I had brought was not chop suey, but pansit, a Filipino dish. She went on to describe how she was friends with Filipinos and that they always made pansit, so she knew what pansit was, and what I brought was pansit, not chop suey.
And as she started breaking down the ingredients and their supposed Filipino connections, I was starting to get irritated. When she stopped her lecture to get herself a third helping, she turned to me and said, "Your pansit is delicious, but it tastes different from what I'm used to."
So I told her, "That's because I didn't make pansit. I made chop suey. I should know because this is how we've always made chop suey in my house."
She replied, "But this is pansit, I know it is. This can't be chop suey!"
So I asked her, "Have you ever had chop suey before?"
She paused, her forehead wrinkling before she answered, "Well, no."
So I told her, "Well now you have!"
The rest of the coworkers giggled and the loud one ended her lecture and finished her plate. For the record, I have tasted pansit; and I do like it. In fact, I like Filipino cuisine. But what pisses me off is when I make something, and someone else tries to tell me that I don't know what it is that I made! This ain't a cooking show or a chef competition! I didn't ask for a critique or food review! I made the damn thing! I know what I made. And if I made it, then I sure as hell can call it whatever I want!