I was impressed (and so was my stomach) with the ethnic diversity of my diet. A fourth course of bicarbonate of soda was in order.

Still, my experience proved it's true that we in California have access to one of the most diverse cuisines in the world, mostly because we also have one of the most diverse of populations. Those arriving from other lands have brought their cooking with them and not only do they cook for themselves, but they also open restaurants where those of us from some place else can sample them.

You have only to look at the restaurant section in the yellow pages of the telephone book to discover this. Everything from Ethiopian to Thai cooking is available if your stomach can stand the variations. Everything from mild to hot exists.

But it is not only restaurants that provide us with ethnic diversity. My children have grown up on tacos, burritos and tamales. Their children are doing the same thing. They can't speak much Spanish, alas, but they'd feel at home in Mexico when it comes time to eat.

In like fashion I don't know much about the Middle East, but I sure do love fallafels, pita bread sandwiches filled with lettuce, tomatoes, fried and tasty chick pea balls, sour cream and hot sauce. And, of course, the many kinds of pasta we cook in our house are so much a part of our diet that we tend to forget they were invented by the Chinese and the Italians.

I suppose there once was something we might call American cooking. I have a vague recollection of it from the days when I was growing up.

It's a vague recollection because nothing much about it was very memorable, except, perhaps, Thanksgiving dinner.

As nearly as I can tell, the diet of my formative years was a combination of the way things were cooked in New England and how things were served in the Midwest—lots of meat and potatoes, a kind of modified English diet or at least a diet derived from northern Europe. This was natural enough because, as everyone knows, it was the Pilgrims who got here first. (And, which, after about six generations, my grandfather carried the cuisine with him to California.)

But even Yankees like him had their diet modified by the Native Americans and by what they could grow in the New World.

There also were the considerations of keeping food fresh. Until refrigeration came along, most food had to be cooked right away or had to be reconstituted from dried or preserved food, a fact that led to a certain dreariness in diet: mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, steak.

Successive waves of immigrants brought successive kinds of cooking to America. The French left their mark on parts of the south; the Germans on places like St. Louis; and the Italians and Chinese almost everywhere. Since the Italians sort of invented good cooking and taught it to the French, we are fortunate they decided to immigrate to Northern California and fill San Francisco's North Beach with tasty hangouts.

And perhaps I don't need to point out that perhaps the finest restaurant in San Jose is Italian. But, after all, it isn't so much where the cooking you enjoy came from, it's how it tastes. And in this area if you tire of one thing, there are at least a dozen different restaurants to try as a change of pace, and learn a little about another place and culture at the same time.