I grew up eating at circle tables. In both restaurants and in my home.
The best part about circle tables was the fact that you can talk to anyone. Unlike rectangular tables, which limited the amount of people you could talk to to only those sitting right next to you or across from you, circle tables allowed for easy access to just about anyone around the table.
It was obviously a bit jarring when I first came to the United States, aged around seven. Sitting in some fancy Italian restaurant, the first time I ever tasted pasta was at a rectangular table. I sat uncomfortably, surrounded by strangers with foreign faces, unable to see the familiar faces of my parents. I felt stranded, and the strange noodles did not necessarily help that fact.
Although I developed quite a fervent passion for spaghetti bolognese after this, I never managed to get completely used to these rectangular tables. In my house in California, we still used a small, circular wooden table to eat dinner. During my first few years officially going to elementary school in America, this feature of my house made me feel like I was back at home, in China.
Nowadays, it’s less obvious. Sure, I still sometimes felt like I preferred the more friendly and familial structure of circular tables, but comfortably sitting at these rectangular tables came as easy to me as breathing. This is just one of the many aspects of culture and tradition that drove and continues to drive a wedge between me and my peers in America. But when I reflect back upon the sheer culture shock I experienced during my first week in America, I laugh. I laugh because I have grown since then, grown to embrace both my culture and the new experiences and opportunities offered to me in America. But, I still think it was mostly the carbonara pasta that convinced me.