A Memory of Taste Part 2

In my first post I wrote about the succulence of Napolie pizza. And while that was excellent, my next post is one of my favorite dining experiences. From November 2002 to June of 2003 I was stationed in Bahrain. While there I lived in the town surrounding the base. My friends and I would often venture out into previously unexplored (by us) portions of the town to find restaurants and bars.

On one of these occasions a buddy and I happened upon a building adorned in Arabic and Chinese writing. There were cars parked out front and a valet was taking keys and ushering people inside. Now, upon seeing this we could have decided to high tail it elsewhere, but our curiosity got the better of us. Not knowing if we would be turned away, we parked the car a short ways up the street and walked to the front door. As we approached the doorman opened the door and ushered us inside the building.

Once inside we realized this was a restaurant. It was set up like a Sheri’s or Ihop, a waiting room in the foyer with padded benches and the dining room was filled with booths and tables. As we looked into the dining area we saw families, Bahraini and foreign alike, but no American or European looking faces looked back at us.

The host sat us at a table in the center of the room, our water was brought, and a menu was set in front of us. As I opened the menu I was greeted with nothing but Arabic and what looked to me like Mandarin writing…no English was seen. I looked at my companion, he looked at me, “What the fuck?” We both shrugged and continued to look at the menue until our waiter approached us.

He greeted us, and asked us if we wanted anything to drink, and then saw our puzzled expressions. “Can you read the menu?” Once we told him no, he chuckled. “I can bring you food…if you’d like, trust me.” We decided to take his word for it, gave him the menus, and sat back to wait.

Once our food came, at first I was slightly disappointed. It was a small plate of veggies, and by small plate it was the size of a small salad plate. A little dubiously we began to eat…and the food was good. The first plate was finished quickly, and as soon as we were done a new plate was put in front of us. I almost didn’t notice the plate was taken away, but when the new plate of food was put in front of us we tucked in and continued to eat.

Now, I’d like to say that after the second plate of food we were done, because we could have been. No, instead I have to tell you that we had another plate set in front of us. Now, not being one to complain about good food, I started on that plate albeit much slower. This continued through the fourth, fifth, and sixth plates of food. I normally didn’t fill like this except on Thanksgiving but I kept on, mostly because the food was delicious but also by some sort of sense of misguided honor that this was a challenge to the Americans in this decidedly local restaurant.

As we finished the sixth different dish we saw a seventh approach, it was set in front of it and I looked at it, a man defeated by food. By stomach was so full that I wanted to lean back, loosen the belt and ease the snap of my jeans open to allow my belly room to escape. Our waiter appeared, “How are we doing? Is the food satisfactory? Do you need more?” This was the last plate! We were on the home stretch! My  mind made itself up, I would finish this meal, my taste buds had overridden my capacity to stop as soon as I knew an end was near. We informed that waiter that all was good and asked for the check. “No dessert?” I wanted to strangle him, but we politely declined and he walked away.

As we finished the meal I knew that this had been something special. When he returned with the check we asked the waiter about the restaurant. He informed us that the king of Bahrain had invited a 5 star chef from Hong Kong to come and start this restaurant. We had just eaten small portions of all the popular dishes from the menu. I was impressed, and as I rolled out the door I wondered if I’d ever eat Chinese food this good again.

Now I have lived and worked in China on several different occasions. In the North, South and Central portions of the country, and I have never eaten like I did that day in Bahrain. It was amazing in my memory. And the surprising nature of it most likely remains lodged in my brain for all time, but the accidental finding of the restaurant is one of my favorite experiences while traveling.

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One thought on “A Memory of Taste Part 2

  1. Keep up the good posts! I like them and think Marie and Grandmom might be reading them too!
    I am imagining some 26-year old young woman and wondering if she remembers kissing a sailor on an airplane when she was small.
    P.S. Look up ‘bemused’ and see if that’s what you meant. Didn’t quite make sense to me.

    Like

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