Panda Express, a fast-food chain serving Chinese American cuisine, has long been the butt of many Asian Americans’ jokes. It has become a symbol of inauthenticity — America’s poor imitation of actual Chinese food. Nevertheless, I love eating there. So many people stare at me confused when I, an Asian American, profess my enjoyment of the restaurant. Some even helpfully remind me, “Ian, you’re Asian.” But, Panda Express has become a fixture in my life, something I’ve eaten at least once every two weeks since my freshman year of college.

Throughout my first semester, I tried to stick to my meal plan, consciously not spending any more money than I had to. The consistently dull offerings at the dining halls, however, made this task very difficult. One fateful day, when I just couldn’t stomach any more dining hall cooking, I decided to use my dining dollars. Alongside a meal plan, the University offers Dining Dollars — currency that can be used at select restaurants around campus. Unfortunately, what a student can buy with the dining dollars is quite limited: Qdoba, Subway and, of course, Panda Express, to name a few. Faced with limited options, I arrived at the Michigan Union feeling brave and bought a plate with white rice, orange chicken, honey walnut shrimp and a side of crab rangoons from Panda Express.

I was immediately in love. The orange chicken was the perfect blend of sweet and sour, its flavor melting in my mouth. The scattered, chewy rice complemented the dish, as did the creamy crab rangoons. The crispy honey walnut shrimp, an unusual example of sweet seafood, had a rich, savory flavor.

Now, every two weeks before my acting class, I brave through the stench of Pierpont Commons for the Panda Express there. Pierpont may be the worst-smelling building on campus — the basement reeks of an odor reminiscent of rotten fish — but the portions at the Panda Express in Pierpont are much larger than the ones in the Union, which doesn’t even offer free water cups. That alone is worth plugging your nose.

Of course, I know Panda Express isn’t authentic Asian food. I know it barely even resembles real Chinese cuisine. Even Jimmy Wang, Panda Express’ executive director of culinary innovation, admits as much.

“We said (Panda Express) is American Chinese cuisine. We didn’t say this is traditional Chinese cuisine,” Wang said. 

Upon hearing this, many Asians might dismiss the food there as a Western bastardization of Chinese food. These individuals forget, however, that what is now known as American Chinese cuisine came from Cantonese immigrants in San Francisco. These immigrants, arriving in the United States during the 1840s, had limited access to “traditional” Chinese ingredients, such as bean sprouts. They overcame this restriction by replacing these ingredients with more readily available ones, like shredded cabbage. As many of these migrants were not trained cooks, they prioritized simpler dishes. An early example of a dish created by these immigrants is chop suey, which is now widely derided as a fake Chinese dish because of its simplicity. 

As immigrants failed to find success in the gold rush, many of them turned to opening businesses, such as restaurants. The amount of Chinese eateries further increased due to a loophole in the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882. Though the act banned all Chinese immigration, merchants such as restaurant owners qualified for a special visa, one that allowed them to bring their employees (often family members) from China.

However, many of these initial restaurants proved unpopular. White San Franciscans largely avoided them out of racism. Following a series of anti-Chinese riots in 1877, several immigrants fled from California, ultimately settling in New York. There, they found success — not only among the Chinese diaspora, but also with white New Yorkers. Much of the general public was fascinated by stories of New York Chinatown’s prostitution and drug use; soon, wealthier clientele, in a form of slum tourism, visited the area out of curiosity. When they ate at the Chinese restaurants, they quickly fell in love with the food.

These immigrants paved the way for Panda Express, one of the first Asian cuisine fast food chains. Panda was founded by Chinese immigrant Andrew Cherng and his father, chef Ming-Tsai Cherng, as a modest sit-down restaurant in Southern California. The restaurant managed to reach a different customer base than expected: young urban professionals, or yuppies. 

Colman Andrews, a food critic at the L.A. Times in 1984, called the location “the world’s first yuppie Chinese restaurant.”

The restaurant received very positive reviews from several high-level food institutions, including the Los Angeles Restaurant Writers Association. Restaurant critic Lois Dwan praised it for differentiating itself from other Chinese restaurants, which mainly served chop suey. Indeed, Andrew Cherng purposely added spicier, less-American dishes to the menu.

That’s right: Panda Express actually pushed the boundaries of Chinese American cuisine, adding food that would have been less acceptable for its audience. By taking these risks, the restaurant quickly expanded into the chain we all know (and some love) today. Now, the company, run by Andrew Cherng and his wife Peggy, is comprised of more than 2,300 restaurants and produces $3 billion in annual sales. 

Once I learned about the history of Panda Express, and Chinese American cuisine in general, it struck me as a symbol of Asian persistence and success. Even while facing rampant racism in an unfamiliar land, Chinese immigrants tried to replicate the food they so loved and missed, using ingredients foreign to them to do so. These dishes — chow mein, crab rangoons, General Tso’s chicken — has become popular among people of all identities today. Panda Express, a chain founded by two immigrants, is now a staple in American culture, eaten by Americans of all ethnicities. Chinese American food isn’t a poor, white man’s replication of Chinese cuisine; rather, it’s a multicultural blend of Chinese and American cultures, created by immigrants themselves.

If Chinese American cuisine was originally created by Asian immigrants, why do so many Asian Americans seem to hate it? A viral Buzzfeed video, titled “Chinese People Try Panda Express For The First Time,” unexpectedly highlighted a generational divide between younger Chinese Americans and their Chinese elders. The younger generation was quick to criticize Panda Express as inauthentic; one of the participants dismissed it as “white people’s Chinese food.” Surprisingly, however, their older counterparts were much more receptive. These elders focused more on the taste and less on the authenticity. 

“This is tasty Chinese food that Chinese people would accept,” one elderly participant said. 

One YouTube commenter attempted to explain this discrepancy. 

“It’s because younger people are less secure with their culture so they want to assert that they are actively a part of their culture and know things about it, while the older people are very secure with the fact that they’re Chinese, like they don’t need to let anyone know, they just are,” the commenter wrote.

This interpretation proved to be popular, with the comment garnering more than 32,000 likes.

To an extent, I agree with this take. Of course, I don’t think all Asian Americans that dislike Panda do so to prove their “Asian-ness,” but I do suspect many can’t admit that they enjoy Panda Express or any other Asian American cuisine because they want to prove their place in the Asian diaspora. Asian Americans are constantly expected to conform to a certain “Asian-ness,” lest we be accused of being whitewashed.

For reference, I am Korean American. I speak Korean relatively fluently. I can write and type Hangul (the Korean alphabet). I regularly eat Korean food at home. I enjoy watching Korean dramas. Still, I will never qualify as a true Korean. I speak with an accent. I regularly misspell words in Hangul. I don’t like eating kimchi. Perhaps most damningly, I would much rather listen to Taylor Swift than K-pop. I don’t come close to the Platonic ideal of “Korean.” Hence, I call myself Korean American instead, to signify that I’m too “American” to be Korean, yet too Korean to be just “American”; it’s a very convenient label. Even still, people accuse me of being whitewashed, as if I need to prove that I’m Korean. I highly doubt an Italian American or German American has to justify their identity like this. 

I know it sounds ridiculous, but I empathize with Panda Express: an Asian American restaurant, a mixture of different cultures, that is constantly ridiculed for not being Chinese enough. Poor Panda Express watches as its fellow fast food restaurant, Domino’s Pizza, is freely enjoyed by all, with no obligation to authentically represent Italian culture. 

Chinese American food, and Asian American cuisine in general, carries its own culinary tradition that is distinct from authentic Asian cuisine. This is not better or worse, just different. Panda Express isn’t trying to mimic authentic Chinese cuisine, but instead seeks to serve its own Chinese American cuisine through multiculturalism. And through multiculturalism, cultures are able to mix and mingle and new fusions are created everyday. Like me, Panda Express was born of Asian immigrants, and incorporates both American and Chinese cultures in its food and in its identity. It’s a symbol of not only Asian perseverance and excellence, as it was founded by immigrants who wanted to share their culture with their new country, but also of Asian American identity. I’m sure many will vehemently disagree, but authentic Asian cuisine is still available to eat; is there really no room for one more option, Asian American cuisine, on the menu?

Statement Columnist Ian Joo can be reached at joonebug@umich.edu. 

Related articles