Multinational Cincinnati

By history and tradition, Cincinnati is a German city. There are traces of its German roots everywhere, and I can hardly think of the word Cincinnati without remembering the faux German title of a book that stood in my parents' bookshelf years ago when I came to visit them: Vas You Ever in Zinzinnati? This title, I now realize after investigation, is almost 50 years old--it was first published in 1966, the year after I left Ohio.

Of course, we know already that there are other ethnic groups in Cincinnati. Last winter when we visited here we joined the Scandinavian Society of Cincinnati, went to its Christmas Party (St. Lucia Fest), and hope soon to join others of its activities. Coincidentally, the Scandinavian Society is celebrating its 50th birthday this year, which means that it was new when Johannes arrived in Cincinnati in November 1966; he didn't know about it then, and he, too, moved from Cincinnati early the following year.

This week at Cincinnati Eye Institute we were telling the story of Johannes' immigration (an old company, Avco Electronics, "imported" a bunch of European engineers in 1966 and 1967 because the U.S. had not produced enough of its own at that growth period). My doctor did not remember the now-defunct Avco Electronics plant in Evendale--he said that he had only been here 22 years. And then he remarked that Cincinnati had grown into a better city in the past two decades; he remembered that when he first arrived, the entire city had only one Thai restaurant, and one restaurant of another ethnic group that I can't remember, and one restaurant of a third ethnic group that I can't remember. But not German. Now, he said, things are much more cosmopolitan.

Indeed they are. There are two Thai restaurants within a mile of where we live, and we live in the 'burbs, though still within the I-275 perimeter. And a Benihana. Italian. Mexican. Another "non-denominational" Asian. The Peruvian restaurant I visited once has moved farther north, but still exists. And two very nice (and expensive) American cuisine establishments, but we won't discuss here the countless U.S. fast food and chain restaurants, only some of which I am familiar with.

It's not necessary to go out to eat ethnic, either. Within walking distance of our apartment is a Spanish-language grocery store, which I investigated this past Thursday afternoon when I needed to buy some mozzarella cheese. I didn't find the cheese there, though I browsed the aisles and came away with a couple condiments that I needed (not the colorante that I add to rice in Spain, but the Sazón Goya is probably more authentic because it has at least a little saffron in it). And then when I came out of Las Delicias I saw that there was a halal grocery just two doors down. They didn't have mozzarella either, but I found a great source for red lentils and other legumes.

Then on Friday morning we drove east for ten minutes to a fabric store, looking for pillow inserts for some decorative pillow covers we had picked up in Singapore last summer. We found them, and we also found the largest Asian supermarket that I have ever seen, in my limited experience in Asia and in any of the Chinatowns in much larger U.S. cities. There were lots of labels I couldn't decipher, but there was an incredibly large and beautiful fresh produce section where I saw lettuces and cabbages and more unusual greens that I can hardly wait to explore using.

I ended up buying the mozzarella at one of my "regular"grocery stores, Kroger and Meijer. Meijer has a pretty decent international foods section itself, I have noted. But nothing in comparison with the one-of-a-kind Jungle Jim's (though I guess they have opened an affiliate now) in Fairfield, Ohio, about a half hour up the road. Jungle Jim's deserves a post of its own. That, plus Ikea, is where we are able to buy the many varieties of herring and dark bread that we use for our weekly Danish smørrebrød.

And that is what I am going to prepare right now. But we lost our source for Carlsberg beer, the perfect smørrebrød accompaniment, this week. We can't remember where we got the first six-pack three weeks ago. So this week we'll internationalize our smørrebrød with German beer.