Bao

This bao (or baozi, according to the Internet) is filled with roasted pork and it is the inspiration behind the theme of our discussion today: can a pastry be filled with meat? To some extent, then, I would like to acknowledge that we will be holding up the bao as a strawman; obviously the bao cannot represent all meat-filled or meat-related pastries, and the bao deserves to be analyzed in its own unique context without being forced to symbolize carniverous bread-like maybe-breakfast foods everywhere. This does not do the bao justice, whether or not we eventually decide it is a pastry.

However, it remains a fascinating debate among pastry analysts and afficianados everywhere: can a pastry incorporate dead, cooked animal? See Figure 4c for a helpful diagram.

We will approach this problem epistemologically. Princeton University's "wordnet" guide, the dictionary of note, defines pastry as, "a dough of flour and water and shortening." According to this gloss, pastry refers to the bready (some might claim flaky) outside of a pastry--or of the bao--not the filling. It can therefore be surmised that a pastry, potentially, could be filled with anything, so long as its outer contours conform to the basic tenets of pastrydom. This opens up a whole new world of hypothetical pastry: pizza pastry, shoe pastry, cumin pastry, and, dare I say it, steak pastry.

However, as we return to the bao, I find myself still uncertain. It is important that I now reveal my own biases and position of privilege in respect to the bao. As a white, midly oppressive American, it is possible that I do not, and cannot, understand the true nature of the bao, a traditional Chinese dim sum food. Indeed, the bao problematizes the very Western notion of "pastry." It is entirely possible that non-Western nations developed pastries in wholly different, now unrecognizable forms, centuries before they were co-opted and standardized by the West. These "neo-pastries" could have striven for a different ideal, stood for different values, and altgether eclipsed the modern notions of true pastriness. Under years of colonization, it is possible that this notion of pastry was slowly and methodically destroyed by the homogenizing forces of Western civilization and European hubris. Of this subject, alas, my ignorance overwhelms me and I float in a sea of cultural insensitivity. However, I am determined to bring you a clear and precise analysis regardless.

I remain skeptical. The bao's savory filling does seem to detract from its overall pastriness, despite its sweet bready shell. Its alleged flakiness seems but a pipe dream, although it is possible that I am measuring this using a very culturally specific understanding of flakiness. Some might say: it flakes differently. I think that I would rather eat it for lunch than for breakfast (that is, if I would eat it at all, considering my knowledge of The Meatrix). Finally, I just find it hard to imagine somebody waking up one morning and saying to him or herself, "Man, I want a pastry!" while reaching for a bao.

The bao is perhaps misunderstood and underestimated. But please do not become distraught; we will return to analyze its brethern at a later date, when we take on the elusive and extraordinary Red Bean Bun. Redemption awaits.