The Lynch family has strong roots connecting us to Ballybunion, Ireland but we are also Italians from Palermo, the capital of Sicily. Our family gatherings are authentic because it is an environment of happiness and love. That might sound cheesy but it's really true--the cousins are playing on the golf course, the uncles are gathered by the grill “checking on” the roast, and the aunts are inside cooking pasta, making a salad, corn, vegetables, or setting the table.

The Lynchs are known for a mean, almost blackened roast served with pesto or red sauce pasta. With nine grandchildren, six aunts and uncles, four great aunts and uncles, and five-second cousins my grandparents have to feed many mouths, but we all come together for the roast Sundays every week. Family members begin arriving around 4 o’clock in the afternoon and my grandma already has an array of crackers, fig sauce, and fruits--or the classic go-to chips and salsa. Soon big silver pots full of water are set on the stove and the smokey scent of the grill begins to spread to the outside patio. My grandma and her sister are the “authentic” chefs, who bring the connection of Italian techniques like the time the pasta should boil so it is a perfect al dente, a scoop of butter on the bottom of the serving bowl, and homemade garlic bread sauce on the “right” baguette to our family. They have followed this pasta recipe, “perfectly cooked pasta with extra parmesan, olive oil, salt, butter, and red sauce or pesto sauces," for decades watching their mom and grandmother do the same. You begin by pouring two big spoonfuls of salt into both pots of boiling water and splashes of olive oil consistently in the pot until the pasta is in the pot. Then it has been an ingrained family value almost to always take the pasta out of the pot al dente. My grandma likes it to be a little on the harder side. Then while you let the pasta cool off in colanders, the two sauces are quickly put together. The tomato sauce has clusters of freshly chopped tomato mixed with a premade red sauce and there is a grainy pesto from a small shop in downtown San Diego, Little Italy. Soon the kitchen is transformed from the cutting boards of broken crackers and half-empty dipping dishes to a row of serving plates and spoons, with two big pasta bowls and a big pan for the roast that arrives seconds before everyone gathers around the island to hold hands in grace.

For most chefs, cooking is about bringing the culture into the dish, showing the identity of their heritage and their origin through taste, presentation, and preparation. Having an authentic restaurant means replicating the technique, recipe, and taste of a dish that is important to your city, state, or country. As much as I believe these aspects bring a lot to a dish and build the reputation of a restaurant, for me it is about the environment--the community upon which it is established or built. When a chef opens a restaurant I believe that want to attract a customer base that invites standing reservations, they desire for people to want their food and return. They wish to have recurring customers who bring their friends and family. They want to build a new community. They want to share their own gifts of creativity with others. Similarly, we love to invite guests to our roasts because we know they will respect and enjoy this environment.

On most Sundays, my grandma and her sister are in charge of pasta cooking because it is their favorite thing to do, standing hip to hip and cooking a dish they grew up admiring their mother doing. Being in a big family the tables have to be set and chairs are re-arranged so there is always craziness surrounding dinner time. My grandparents love hosting because they love spending time with her grandchildren. On occasion, my aunts have to step in and help my grandma cook the pasta. The times when my grandma is not the chef of the night usually there are small differences in the pasta--either it is too soft, the saltiness has disintegrated, or the chunk of butter my grandmother usually puts on the bottom of the serving bowl to melt under the fresh pasta is gone. These differences do not affect the authenticity of this meal for my family, but it’s the tradition that makes this meal our soul food. Our soul food is my grandma’s Italian pasta dishes served next to a large serving plate of my grandpa’s Irish roast. Together they make a new “authentic” meal for my American family. It practices tradition and continues a legacy for my grandmother. Personally, what makes food authentic to me is the connection between observing and being intrigued in continuing a special talent or technique because I know I will be blessed to be able to carry on this authentic roast and pasta meal in the future.

To me, barbecue is a big part of what I think about when I think of American food. It represents the grittiness and pride that every American embodies to help America be a place of incredible innovation and progression. Barbecue also represents the diversity of America, barbecue isn’t just one food with one kind of sauce, it is many foods from ribs to brisket to mac and cheese. America is the same, an immigrant country with an incredible diversity of food, music, culture, and race. Just as America is a composition of every single citizen, no matter their birthplace, barbecue is a combination of cultural and regional flavors primarily from Texas, Kansas City, Memphis, and the Carolinas. Each region is known for their particular contribution to the world of barbecue with each being equally as important as the rest. Although there is definitely competition among the regions on who has the best barbecue, they all play an essential part in creating the culture of barbecue that we have today. Barbecue is truly the most American food there is and represents everything that is great about the United States of America.

My dad's side of the family is from Kansas. My dad grew up very close to one of the main hubs of barbecue and was able to take advantage of the Kansas City contributions to the barbecue world: the wide variety of meat used. While other regions primarily focused on pulled pork or ribs, Kansas City included lamb and the use of more parts of each animal. This idea has been adopted nationwide and is very common to find in many regions. This reminds me of how immigrants bring their traditions, food, and cultures to America and over time, these ideas spread and become a part of America itself. This allows America to be such an amazing place full of new ideas from new places.

“Hamburgers.” They said. “Hamburgers are authentic American food,” my dad and sister said when I asked what they thought American food is. Authentic American food reflects the history of the United States. Authentic American cuisine usually consists of hamburgers, hot dogs, nachos, and pizza, but it depends on where you live in America.

Authentic American dishes vary between families, but Thanksgiving dinner is one of the most, if not the most important, American food in the Tinsley family. Thanksgiving is a traditional and authentic American holiday celebrated by many. Though it’s origin and roots are complicated, we tend to celebrate Thanksgiving as a moment of gratitude and appreciation. In my family, it is the most honored holiday, even more than Christmas. We gather from near and far to sit down at the living room table for a home-cooked feast. I have never spent a Thanksgiving dinner away from home, and neither has any one of my siblings. We practice family traditions every year, starting with a family football game at the polo field near our house, followed by roasting our own twenty-six-pound turkey. The older kids help dad cook while the younger kids play cards or soccer in the backyard. My mom, sister, and I set the table around midday to prepare for the meal. Fall-colored Thanksgiving napkins go on top of the china used every holiday. Setting the table is my mom’s favorite part of preparing for Thanksgiving, and I love it too, but I would much rather be playing with the boys outside. My sister is ordered not to touch the water glasses because she can’t be trusted with them. Once we light the candles and place the last silverware pieces on the table, we continue to help cook and get ready for dinner.

The tradition is what makes it authentic and American for me. The crispy, roasted turkey and the warm stuffing fills my mouth with satisfaction as my siblings and I enjoy each other’s company. The turkey, gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, and stuffing are only part of what makes Thanksgiving authentic. It is more about how we’ve created this ritual as a family and how we’ve carried it on. It has become part of the fabric of my family.

Whenever we think of the traditional Thanksgiving dinner, we always think of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie. It has become the staple for the holiday and it's expected for it to be on millions of tables on the fourth Thursday of November. However, not every family, just like mine, eats turkey during Thanksgiving.

Although this year we did in fact eat the traditional Thanksgiving dinner, that's not always the case. There have been years when we have eaten chicken, just fried chicken cooked in our oven alongside rice and even pozole, a Mexican soup filled with hominy, beef or pork, and with sliced cabbage on top for more taste. After just asking my mom a few minutes ago as to what we would eat when we do not eat turkey for dinner, she quickly said “maybe tamales.” To be honest, I was a bit surprised, as I like to think of tamales as Christmas food. But after thinking about it while writing this, I can recall a few memories of us eating tamales for Thanksgiving. Tamales are a dish which includes corn dough, also known as masa, and filling, which for us Salvadorans includes chicken and different vegetables such as carrots, green beans amongst others. We then wrap up the corn dough with all the filling and wrap it with plantain husks, and place them onto a pot for them to get steamed and cooked. It's another dish that my grandma taught my mom how to make, but that is very hard to do and at times may require more than one person helping out. It's honestly one of my favorite dishes to eat hands down.

Although at times we do not eat the authentic food for the holiday, we still do our best to celebrate the day. This is not a holiday that my parents grew up celebrating back home in El Salvador, so they are still learning about the day, even though they still call turkey day. However, we all embrace the day and come together as a family to celebrate and be thankful for everything that we have. It may be a bit weird when and even a bit ironic how we do not eat American food for an American holiday, but that's just the way we do it. Despite not eating the traditional food, we still come together to partake in the holidays tradition, such as gathering around for Thanksgiving dinner night and give thanks. Although we may not celebrate the day with traditional food, we celebrate the day's meaning in a traditional way.

It's the summer months on the Gull Lake where I feel the most “American.” Waking up to the sunny skies and walking down on the dock over the blue water. I spend the long days with my cousins on the water, and getting ready to celebrate the Fourth of July. It’s a cabin that has been in my family for almost a century. My great grandparents bought the land on the point before there was even a road around the lake. They loved to stand out on the point and take in the greatness of it all, and the happiness it brought to their family. My dad has been there every year of his life, and I can say it's definitely the place where I am happiest.

During our stay, we eat a lot of foods that people would consider American, like the hot dogs and burgers that my grandma likes to make for us. I love eating these out of the porch in the sun looking out at the lake, enjoying endless laughter, and planning out the rest of the afternoon. It’s one of those times where I forget what day it is, because I have nothing to worry about. It really is the best part of the year for me.

I think the most American food that I eat is the meat on the grill at barbecues--hotdogs, hamburgers, and ribs. For me, the authenticity of the food is a combination of the places I eat, the people that I am eating with, and the manner in which the food is served. I have to say, I don’t think I can consider this food truly “authentic,” but it does represent a few things that I cherish the most in my life. If you ask any of my extended family where the best spot for a barbecue is, they will say on the deck at Gull Lake, Minnesota. Meal times at the lake are always special, either sitting around the large table for dinner, or eating lunch in the sun. My fondest memories include grilling chicken while listening to the ringing of the storm sirens, then proceeding to eat in the basement and evacuate the following morning. Whatever it may be, the food is sure to create a memory that makes the place that much more special to me. The food isn’t unique to our family, but it brings us together to create our own unique memories.