Like many others in Hong Kong, I am currently visiting friends and relatives overseas, after not seeing some of them for over three years. This means a lot of catching up over lunches and dinners.
While it doesn’t come as a complete surprise, I am reminded through these catch-ups just how large portions can be in North America.
Any casual diner breakfast in this part of the world includes a mound of home fries and toast, and the egg-based entrées typically comprise three freshly laid large ones. A quick lunch is a sandwich piled so high it resembles a Jenga tower.
Even a bowl of wonton noodles in some overseas Chinatowns can feel like a soupy bottomless pit. I recall one hummus tray resembling a pool of quicksand.
The United States is supposed to be the land of plenty, although often it’s really a wasteland of processed and fast foods. Driving by endless rows of strip malls filled with franchise chains is paradoxically depressing and enticing.
“Hey, there’s a Wendy’s! And an A&W! And a Dairy Queen! I haven’t had a Blizzard milkshake in years!”
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A friend commented, half in jest, that in America, a restaurant’s prices are inversely proportional to the size of its portions. Big platters of chow are cheap, but tiny dishes can cost an arm and a leg. I’m not sure I agree entirely but it’s certainly true for sushi.
Gigantic chunks of California roll with avocado and imitation crabmeat are quite inexpensive. A tiny piece of chutoro tuna in New York, on the other hand, is frighteningly pricey.
The funny thing is, other parts of the world consider Hong Kong portions to be huge. Serving sizes in Japan, Thailand and other parts of Asia are certainly more related to actual nutrition needs.
Guiltily, I have felt a tad disappointed at hawker stalls in Penang, in Malaysia, and Singapore when, feeling particularly peckish, my order of mi goreng or char kway teow is smaller than expected. In Hong Kong, those green or yellow plastic plates might only be considered snack-sized.It’s led to occasional discussions similar to the chicken/egg debate. Are Asians physically smaller because we consume less food, or do the relatively small dish sizes simply reflect our caloric needs?
Of course, nobody needs to eat dishes as large as those at The Cheesecake Factory – unless you’re a sumo wrestler – but the joy of such meals is the pleasure of abundance. It’s also why some folks get quite excited ahead of a family gathering at a hotel buffet.
For chefs and restaurant owners, it’s always a challenge to get serving sizes right. A big guy might think 100g (3.5oz) of pasta is not nearly enough, but 50g might be just right for someone enjoying it as a main course following an antipasto.
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Back when I was in university, I was almost able to eat an entire 12-inch pizza by myself. Now, I struggle to put away even half of one. Should a restaurant portion its food based on customer profiling? Give women half a scoop of mash less, and senior citizens the same serving size as kids?
Fine-dining restaurants regularly get criticised by uncouth McCustomers who complain they have to get a Big Mac after dinner because they’re not full after paying high prices for small portions. Well, those fancy schmancy places aren’t trying to put people in a food coma. They’re creating unique and clever flavour experiences.
Perhaps when booking restaurants, customers should have to declare whether they’re after interesting sustenance or outright gluttony. That would help chefs decide whether to serve the guest the good food or a large heap of the cheap stuff.
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