I finally had that cliche foodie moment, and it has probably changed my entire life and my entire philosophy on food. For years I always scoffed at the Anthony Bourdain travel story, or other foodie authors who write about their transcendent food adventure abroad. I always thought it was silly . Food from great chefs in spectacular restaurants was one thing, but for a guy to find an epiphany from his first bowl of ramen in Tokyo, or a life calling from trying Durian in chinatown were both just stories that bordered on exaggerated fiction. This was, until 5:45pm today. It is our second day In Aruba, and weve been staying away from the touristy area that most foreigners stayed in. Instead, Andrew and I were in a local air bnb away from the tourist bubble. This gave us an opportunity to really try something different. We were on our way to meet up with the wedding couple and were both starving. Going out on a whim we decided to try out a random shack on the side of the street with no paved parking lot. Don Hector, I can already taste the shadiness. I was already convinced that the food was going to suck and be uninspiring but decided to go with it anyways. I was definitely wrong about this. We read the menu which was completely in Spanish and saw that there werent any prices. Both Andrew and I were low on cash at that moment and only had a few bucks for the both of us. We asked the large Black lady who was the cook/server/bartender if we had enough for two meals and realized quickly she didnt speak an ounce of english. We showed her our bills and she hesitated and nodded. She then pointed at the menu and told us which meals we should try. I stood in the back very hesitant about the selections. Braised pork chops and beef tripe!, yelled a customer who was sitting at the end of the counter. He saw from our faces that we couldnt read the Spanish and were completely out of our element. We decided to go with the chefs recommendations and sat down on the counter while she went to the back to prepare the food. I looked around at the tiny kitchen and messy shack and prayed not to experience any food poisoning. The large black lady returned shortly with two Styrofoam boxes of food and placed it in front of us. I opened up and saw a very hearty meal before us. Our stomach growled from a long day of traveling and began digging in. The Tripe that i ordered was unlike anything I ever tried before. There was no chewiness or toughness in it. It melted in my mouth and had just the perfect amount of seasoning and tenderness. The sauce that it was cooked in melded so perfectly with the rice. It was amazing. I polished off the styrofoam box off and sat there speechless. The lady came by and showed approval of our empty boxes . I sat there completely unable to explain the level of awe and gratefulness I had for the meal. We were starving and lost, unsure if the cash we had covered the meal (it should have but once again, we couldnt confirm), and lacked the means to communicate with the chef at all (everything was done thru charades and neighboring parties who were amused by this spectacle). I asked what kind of cuisine this was? was it the native cuisine of Aruba? The owner walked by and spoke English to us and explained that this was the cuisine of the Dominican Republic where all of the people around me were from. The Dominican Republic? Ive definitely never tried or heard about food from that country. I looked around and realized that all the people around me were probably Dominicans. This was their go to place . It wasnt for tourists. This was their little hidden gem and two Asian guys just randomly strolled up before closing time. Despite the awkwardness, they welcomed both of us with a mix of intrigue and warmness. I did my best to show my appreciation of the delicious meal to the chef with a Mucho Gracias but it didnt convey the bulk of the feelings I felt. She may not have had the cleanest kitchen or the best technical skills, but her food was all love. It had a story and a history and I experienced a tiny part of it through it. So far our experience of Aruba has been one big mix of amazement, bliss, discomfort, misunderstandings (what does a blue circle with a cross thru it mean and why is it everywhere?), challenges, and acceptance. But it was thru these ups and downs on out trip here did we really appreciate our time here. Food from the soul should be the same way. It shouldnt just be comfortable, familiar, and remind you of past experiences which is what most people look for in the US. For food to rise another level and be extraordinary, it shouldnt be afraid to be be a little discomforting, awkward to the senses (foreign but pleasing) while being made with both thought and heart. I finally did my best series of charades to ask the lady for her name and if should would like to take a picture with me. She smiled and rattled on in Spanish which I didnt understand but made out to be only if you take a good picture of me and that her name was Juana. I took a picture with her and tried to convey that, that her meal was fantastic and that I was wrong to have judged her restaurant so early. It was a meal I would remember forever and I see it being a major point of me becoming a better chef. Pretty sure she wouldnt have understood any of it. To her I was just another tired, starving customer and she had just the fix for that in her pot. Thank you Juana.
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 05:20:53 +0000
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