Never was our family's dinner-table dichotomy more obvious to me than at Thanksgiving. Always eager to help, the cousins swamped our kitchen with homemade specialties, doubling the spread and, to the distress of my brother and me, Sinoizing the holiday. The turkey arrived basted in soy sauce—or was replaced altogether by an elaborate roast duck perfumed with scallions, ginger, and five-spice powder. Instead of dressing, there was lao mian, a dish of stir-fried noodles with seafood and vegetables, and chao fan, fried rice with minced meats, eggs, shrimp, and peas. Chinese broccoli supplanted corn souffle. There were spring rolls, fried turnip cakes, and a soup full of meat dumplings in transparent wrappers. All of this went next to the ham, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, and pecan and pumpkin pies. Guess who ate what.