Rasa Ria Revisited Pt. 3

By revisiting my expectations of Rasa Ria, I realized the extent of my misguidance. Now I did not expect to walk into a 5-star restaurant; I also didn’t anticipate walking into a one-room hostel with an Internet connection. To say the least, I was under impressed with the ambience of Rasa Ria. The self-service and casual atmosphere denotes the kind of customer that would frequent the quaint restaurant. This wasn’t where I ate when I was with my parents. Instead this kind of restaurant represented what college has become for me: a place to experience and try new things. Most importantly somewhere I would be able to grow by stepping outside of my comfort zone. I think that Rasa Ria definitely presented a unique cultural experience was different from my own.

The restaurant included many recipes that were Indonesian, with a Malaysian flare brought by the Gome family. Rasa Ria is authentically fusion. It is a mix of Asian cultures brought to the American table. Through this course, I came to realize that the term “authenticity” is very subjective because of the evolution of culture. The authority who might call a dish authentic or not is also disputed. Therefore, as a relatively uncultured, liberal arts college student, I will call food served at Rasa Ria authentically fusion and authentically delicious.

I hope to continue my exploration with food beyond the confines of my Food and Travel Seminar. It is my greatest hope that I will be able to study abroad in Ecuador for my Junior year at Kalamazoo College. With the application process underway, I can only imagine the exotic food I will be eating. I envision fruits with spikes, fresh fish, or flan. I look forward to go into any future culinary experience with an open heart and mind. Not every taste is for me, yet I will try my best to enjoy the effort and respect the culture of each dish. And after completing the Sophomore Food and Travel Seminar, I have found it is often not the taste that makes the food, yet the context in which you surround yourself. 

My Perfect Meal 1st Draft

In my quest to make anything "perfect," I always opt for the back seat approach. For me, it is no use to plan out an ideal situation, or even have high expectations because sooner or later, reality will come up short. So, when I was assigned to cook my perfect meal, there was little planning involved. I gave myself simply one rule: if there is food in the kitchen, then cook it. Low and behold, on the day of dinner perfection, I opened my cupboards, refrigerator, and freezer to check out the loot. Hidden beneath the Lean Cuisines and Pizza Rolls in the freezer I spotted a pink meat marbled with white fat. A diamond in the rough some would call it, I plucked that chicken out of the freezer as fast as I could. I was grateful to have found some protein that could provide a meal with sustenance.

With upcoming exams to be studied for, I quickly tossed the rock hard meat on to the counter to thaw. Well, thirty minutes later, upon returning from Upjohn's Library on Kalamazoo College's campus, I found that the meat was still frozen. A search on Google, guided me to microwave the meat for fifteen minutes to defrost. The food forums also warned against de-thawing meat on the counter, but I figure you only live once and pretend like nothing had happened.

While the meat was in the microwave, I decided to take some initiative on the rest of the meal. First, I needed some motivation and inspiration. My 3D glasses are always a must when cooking. They provide optical confidence with their busted out shades, and sleek black temples that lead into square frames. They proudly read "Real D 3D." I tell my roommates that they let me see another dimension, or they let me see the future. In reality, they give me another person to be for an hour. With my 3D glasses, I suddenly take on strange French accents, and become the top chef in the world! To add on to this insanity, there is one more necessity before I am ready to cook this perfect meal...some music.

I force my laptop out of my backpack; it is squished between all the books in my bag, and log on to 8tracks.com. There is only one set of songs that can ever get me pumped up, and that is the summertime playlist of the 1990's. The first song, "Steal my Sunshine" pops on and we are ready to go.

I dance on over to the fridge, and pull out multiple bags of fresh produce from the fridge. The clouded plastic bags crinkle while they make their way to the counter. Opening them, I uncover food that I can work with. Part of a left over onion, a lone sweet potato, garlic, and twigs of rosemary. I am thinking "I can work with this," when my thoughts are interrupted by the microwave ding. I open the door to find a sad, and warm chicken breasts oozing out some juices. I pry it out of the plate and set it in a glass pan, leaving a white crust and fluids in its wake. I am praying that this is safe as I decorate the poultry in 2 tablespoons of butter and the rosemary. I slide the pan in the oven, and turn my mind elsewhere to avoid the worried and guilty feeling coming over me.

I pull out two pots from the cabinet and fill them with a few cups of water each. While they are heating up, I slide on over to the cutting board and begin to chop up the onions and garlic. As my head bobs to the music, I begin to lose my control over the vegetables and rampant garlic slip between the crack separating the counter and stove, to be eaten by a hungry critter. I am careless and laughing, and the pots are beginning to produce steam, cutting off my oxygen. A mad scientist watching her chemical reactions, I now turn to my pots to watch them boil. As the saying goes, "a watched pot never boils," but by the graces of the 3rd dimension taken on by my glasses, the water in those two pots began to bubble. Peering into the black bottom of the pots, the air bubbles began to rise until the water strengthened into a fierce boil. Needless to say, I felt on top of the world, and ready to take on the rest of the meal.

I plopped some rainbow rotini into one pot, watching as the orange, yellow, and green noodles found their way from the box to the water. Next, I cut up the sweet potato into circular rounds. Previously, I have been unsuccessful in thoroughly cooking my sweet potatoes, so I am hoping the small pieces will cook faster and be edible for my meal. They end up in the second pot, and soon enough my work has been reduced to waiting, or dancing.

I am getting my freak on singing "I just want to fly, put your arms around me baby..." when I hear some one yell "schioasht" coming from the foyer. My friend Laura Manardo just returned from a local eatery, "Food Dance," and was startled by the smell of the house. Here gibberish words were an indication that the food smelled good. It took me this incident to wake up and smell the rosemary, or something like that. I took a big whiff of the air I was inhabiting and realized that the baking herbs were filling the room with a natural woodsy smell. I was brought to my senses and began to check all my dishes in progress.

The pasta was now saturated, and I drained it only to occupy the space with butter, onions, and garlic. I topped the pot with a lid to allow the vegetables to steam, and looked to the sweet potatoes for my next move. Stabbing a fork into each circle revealed that the orange rounds were ready. I set each chunk on a small plate and garnished them with cinnamon, brown sugar, and butter. The mix of bright oranges and browns left me remembering my fall and all of the friends that were about to enjoy this meal with me. But first a few finishing touches. I dished out the colorful pasta into a bowl, and placed the white chicken breasts on a plate.

My friends arrived on time and eagerly awaited my meal. My friends Andrew Haubert, Marie Bunker, and Sam Foran were able to share this feast with me. As we began to eat, it was evident my friends did not have the same tastes as me.

Haubert only ate the noodles leaving the onion and garlic to the cold. Meanwhile, Sam was trying to politely explain why she doesn't eat sweet potatoes because she was force fed them when she was a child. Anyway, everyone enjoyed the chicken. The butter and rosemary had left a slight yet fresh taste to the chicken, The meat was cooked perfectly, and no one got sick after eating it. I was very grateful for this because I made a lot of mistakes. Everyone agreed that the meal was very natural, especially for a college diet. And everyone seemed to enjoy my combination of spices. They even recommended that I make this a weekly event, which I declined.

My alternate French persona was not able to churn out a foie gras, yet I had fun in the process of cooking my modest chicken dinner. I was happy to have a positive experience before the meal, taking myself lightly, and then sharing the meal with friends. Sometimes small expectations allow for the enjoyment of the simple pleasures of life, and I think that's perfect.

FreeWriting 11/6

One meal that I had was last night with my friend Laura Katherine Manardo. Here is what happened:

Laura and I were downstairs cooking up a storm, preparing for our upcoming cooking show, and we started looking through everyone's cabinets. We were investigating the eating habits of our housemates, and having fun. While conducting our own little research, there were pots on the stove boiling with pastas and sweet potato.

This is the difference between our housemates and us. While we had no problems with their Chef Boyardee and Ramen, it wasn't for us. It was the chopped up onions and garlic we most admired, and the fresh rosemary and chives that facilitated the discussion and conversations we had.

Laura and I bond most when we are cooking. We share experiences together like tasting the different flavor combinations and making weird gasping noises at the intense smells. One person adds one thing to the mix, and the procession keeps flowing. Soon enough, we have a feast of food, and a kitchen that smells amazingly fresh and natural.

Last night, we cooked pasta, lightly buttered with onions, rosemary, and garlic. The sweet potatoes had sprinkled cinnamon, brown sugar, and butter. This is what we crave... a good meal that would inspire smiles and laughs.

A picture for you...

I am more confused about this sandwich than all of the voting proposals in the world.

American Eating (7)

In the third part of Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan discusses his adventures hunting, gathering, and foraging for food. This section goes into depth of the different subjects including how the human body is made in such a way to feed off the earth, the evolution of American eating, ethics of eating, and his experience cooking his own meal. I was most intrigued by the discussion regarding the American way of eating.

In my family, we sit down together every night for dinner prepared by my mom, in semi homemade cooking style. She might used some canned beans, fresh apples, pasta out of a box, or create a casserole out of fresh onions and cheese. Either way, there was always a mix of fresh ingredients included in with convenience foods. However, as the four children in my family grew up, my mom started to work again. The food was tasty this time around, but very much so compromised.

The food that was now being served had vitamins and minerals infused into them, and a high dose of fats and sugars to keep the consumer hooked. This is the way that Pollan describes the USA’s eats in his section, “America’s National Eating Disorder.”

When this new food was introduced into my family’s diet, the nightly conversation dissipated and family time was severely compromised. These new foods take much of the culture and togetherness out of the family and food equation. Of course, my mother still cooks when she can, but it is a shame to know that for many families, this is an everyday thing.

The fact that convenience is chosen over culture is a big indication of how our society is set up. The United States of America is not deeply rooted in any one culture, and instead adopted an efficiency-based lifestyle. I really enjoy that our culture is an infusion of so many, yet I often feel like it starts to lose its identity. Maybe this is because so many people feel the pressure to assimilate into the “American” way of life. Whatever the reason, it is truly a shame because we have missed out on a lot of exceptional diets.

For example, in France they have a unique way of eating. “They eat small portions and don’t go back for seconds; they don’t snack; they seldom eat alone; and communal meals are long, leisurely affairs” (Pollan, 301).

Americans have been incorrect about food assumptions, which has led to a rejection of a lot of great diets. We often are so caught up in dieting fads that we lose sight of what is healthy and not healthy. In France, they eat fatty foods and live a great life, yet Americans hold on to these myths about fats and carbohydrates, and they are causing a huge gap in our diet. Our face-paced lifestyle is also poor for our health. If we treat food as a sense of enjoyment and community, we will be able to bond together more as a society.

The American food system is very much broken. With education, and taking a few steps back, more and more people are beginning to realize that food is best when it is natural, simple, and shared with the people that you love.

PB&P

PEANUT BUTTER PICKLE SANDWICH

this article is causing waves... maybe just ripples, i thought i'd post it in case you haven't seen it.

i'm hoping to uncrustable this $$$$$$ <- big bank

Rasa Ria: Through a lense or a hole FINAL

Florescent lights shine from the ceiling and reflect off the yellow laminated menus sitting at the front desk. Behind the counter, an emotionless waiter is glued to his computer screen and hardly glances at incoming patrons, leaving new customers unsure of their actions for ordering. The style here is self-seating, which the regulars who frequent this quaint eatery have the benefit of already knowing. Customers may choose from six to seven tables that are loosely huddled around the kitchen. The décor in Rasa Ria is simple, wood trim lining the bottom of the walls, and neutral colors on top. Posters of far off Asian destinations give some privacy to the customers.

Rasa Ria is a family restaurant started up about 9 years ago by the Gomes who hail from Malaysia. An Indonesian twist came from a close friend of the Malaysian family. This unique restaurant came about because of simple reasons: there was no Malaysian restaurant in the Kalamazoo area at the time. The restaurant has since been valued for its delicious Asian food. It is located on West Main passed Walgreens and across the street, if you are headed here from Kalamazoo College.

The waiter pauses his play at the computer to sit at a nearby table and take orders. A water pitcher and empty glasses are placed at the table. The customer at Rasa Ria is expected to be very independent. And looking around, that is what you see at this restaurant. This isn’t the run of the mill “American” eatery serving burgers and fries. And, this isn’t where the Smiths will take their 2.3 children out to eat after church. Here you will find the progressive college student drafting a paper, a mixed racial couple and their child, and a husband with a ponytail and a wife with boy cut enjoying their meal. No one here is trying to keep up with the Jones, simply trying to eat at the Gome’s.

And for good reason, the food here is incredibly tasty and affordable. Flavors such as curry, coconut, and soy are a commonality between many of the dishes served. The Tofu Rendang is a delightful dish that encompasses many of these flavors. Served with a side of rice, the main course consists of a soupy mixture of tofu and potatoes resting in a milky broth brightened by curry. The spice of the meal was balanced by sweet coconut milk and lemongrass, allowing the meal to be tolerable without compromising its adventurous qualities. The tofu is spongy and absorbs the flavors of the soup beautifully.

The rice completes the meal, cleansing the palette after the mix of flavors presented by the Tofu Rendang. This meal is a favorite for many of the regulars at Rasa Ria.

For a side order, the curry puffs are a great route to go. From the outside, their appearance resembles empanadas. They are light brown and crescent moon in shape. Right until the crunch biting into the puffs, it is reminiscent of its Spanish cousin, yet this is where the parallel ends. Upon arrival into the mouth, soft shards of chicken, spiced by curry, activate every taste bud. The minced meat is zesty and contrasts the greasy, flaky shell beautifully. A new taster might find themselves with a runny nose on such an occasion; a small price to pay to benefit from the rich flavors.

Two subtler tasting dishes are the Chicken with Black Mushrooms and the Fried Kway Seafood. The Chicken with Black Mushrooms is a stir-fry dish complete with carrots, baby corn, and snow peas marinated in a dark soy sauce. The dish is nothing spectacular, yet can entertain for a night if the consumer is hungry. The vegetables are thoroughly cooked, and remain light despite being enveloped in sauce. The salt in the soy sauce brought nice flavor to the chewy mushrooms. All is just fine for this traditional dish, no extreme risks are taken.

The Fried Kway Seafood is a surprisingly textured dish, however the variation of such texture is lacking. From the shrimp, to the calamari, and flat noodles, everything is just extremely slick. Still, the taste and consistency of the meal is not lacking. The seafood as well as the sauce introduce many flavors, and the range of consistency ranges from easy, soft noodles to the chewy ringed calamari. The Fried Kway is a great entrée for the nautical tasters.

The one mistake of the evening was a drink called Milo. The chocolate malt beverage is served hot in a plastic cup. The beverage would better be served alone to warm up children after a long day in the snow.

Any food bought at Rasa Ria is money well spent, yet consider ordering takeout. The ambience, or lack their of is worth surrendering to a night in the dorm. Similarly, the service is also poor. The dishes may have only taken 10-15 minutes to appear, yet they came scattered making the experience awkward for polite patrons accustomed to eating once every meal is delivered. The dining experience may not be for those looking to spend a night on the town, spurring intense conversations with young intellectuals. Instead, people come here for good food and a casual atmosphere; a hometown diner of a different culture. The selection of food rests primarily on that of Malaysian and Indonesian roots, and maintains a sense of cultural purity. That is the ingredients are consistent with those of the Asian culture, the spicing is for the chef to decide, and the shouts coming from the Kitchen are not exactly English. Even better, the food is affordable. Entrees range from $6-$9 and side orders and drinks anywhere from $1-$2.

Rasa Ria is known as a hole in the wall restaurant, it is simple yet, upon willingness, is able to offer some of the most unique food in Kalamazoo.

There is no reason to make a reservation for a casual night at Rasa Ria. You might catch it closed during open hours, so call ahead of time, it’s worth it.