Rustica Review: Part III

When I first decided to conduct my food review at Kalamazoo’s Rustica, I was a little overwhelmed.  I had imagined very fancy attire being needed to go along with fancy dishes.  The truth is, though, when I first walked in, while it was very crowded and a little cramped, the atmosphere felt more familial to me, like this was a place for both fancy dinner occasions as well as comfortable enough to bring one’s family (maybe older children) to.  It is a place that is expected to have delectable food, but the only requirement of the customers is to have a good time.  I saw no one in a black dress, as I stated was an expectation of mine, and there were many ties but also come t-shirts thrown in.  It was daunting before I entered but after dining there, I felt very comfortable and well taken care of! 

In regards to its “authenticity” I am not fully sure as to what it was trying to accomplish.  Its sign states “Rustic European Cuisine,” but even with that I am not sure what it meant.  Europe is a broad category.  I am left with many questions.  Where is the roasted duck supposed to be from? What about the bone marrow?  The asparagus? I really am not sure!  Then again, the restaurant’s ambiguity may be helpful when it comes to issues of authenticity.  It does not say, for example, “Rustic Italian Cuisine,” in which case I would expect more pasta, sausages, and pizza.  In a way, Rustica’s promise of “Rustic European Cuisine” allows us not to dwell on the restaurant’s authenticity, but on the quality of its food. 

From this experience, I will take with me the reminder that food is an experience, and while there are many restaurants that boast “authenticity,” the only way to really get it is to visit the place of origin, which is convenient because I will be able to do just this when I go to Costa Rica in September!  I will also take with me a sense of openness with the food, as well as the curiosity of the food traditions in which the dishes I experience have come from.

Omnivore's Dilemma: Part II

In chapter 10 in Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma, I was struck by the simplicity of grass farming, and furthermore the huge turnout that simplicity supplies.  Pollan describes this simplicity, stating that “grass farmers grow animals—for meat, eggs, milk, and wool—but regard them as part of a food chain in which grass is the keystone species, the nexus between the solar energy that powers every food chain and the animals we eat” (Pollan 188).  The work of a grass farmer like Joel Stalin is to bring the food system back to its natural state.  The way in which Pollan describes Stalin’s farm and how Stalin views his work, saying that “to be accurate,… we should call ourselves sun farmers.  The grass is just the way we capitalize the solar energy” (188), is reminiscent of my sophomore high school biology class.  Everything starts with the sun; a percentage of energy from solar rays is converted through photosynthesis, then an animal (say a cow) eats it, and a lesser amount of that energy is transferred to the cow, and when humans eat it, an even lesser amount of energy is transferred from the cow to the human.  It’s pretty basic, and Stalin along with his other grass farmer friends are utilizing the simple and efficient transfer of energy as they farm.  But, when we add petroleum to the mix, it becomes less efficient, and when we add other energy costs that come from industrial farming, it becomes even more inefficient.  Allan Nation describes this problem nicely, saying that “all other methods of harvest and transfer require higher capital and petroleum energy inputs and these necessarily lower the return to the farmer/rancher” (188).  But it is hard to keep it simple, and requires a lot of organization and nuanced information on Stalin’s part. 

Pollan goes on to describe the cow’s grazing patterns, and how the “native grasses evolved to thrive under precisely such grazing patterns; indeed, they depend on them for their reproductive success” (193).  The process is called management-intensive grazing, and involves the herd of cows (around 80 or so) munching on a patch of grass for a day, then moving on to a new patch the next day, then another new one the day after that, and so on.  Stalin makes sure that each patch of grass has had time to recover, and his cows eat it at exactly the proper time, and their manure will help to fertilize it after they leave the following day.  I need to say here that this seems crazy to me.  I have looked into the industrial food system, as has Pollan (and to a much deeper extent than I have, I might add) and have always been struck by just how much is going on, where things are coming from and arriving to, and how it all keeps going without completely caving in on itself (however, this day may soon come…).  But Pollan describes Stalin’s Polyface Farm, and I get it.  It all makes complete sense to me, and it is sustainable.  There is a lot going on under the surface, as Pollan describes, but it is a naturally-occurring system, and it is so cool!  Take this and compare it to the CAFOs and dried-out grazing lands of industrial farming.  Stalin’s farm is sustainable and beautiful and simple.

Rustica: Final Draft

The pristine white plate holds a brownie, its dark and rich body crumbling like nutrient-dense earth crumbles from well-worn hands.  A thick blanket of glistening chocolate ganache drapes over its top while a scoop of Palazzolo’s chocolate gelato settles against its side, melting slightly in the wake of the brownie’s warm center.  Whole hazelnuts dot the dessert, little white beads of subtle crunch complementing the backdrop of intense chocolate.  

The Callebaut Chocolate Brownie takes up the same space that a regular sized stapler would occupy on a desk, but at Rustica, the size of a meal reveals nothing of its quality.  Situated on Kalamazoo Mall, only a 15 minute walk from Kalamazoo College’s campus, you will find the small yet oh-so-satisfying restaurant, Rustica.  The concept of “Rustic European Cuisine” is at the forefront of its theme, as is its use of locally-sourced foods.  When looking at its simple menu, in the top right corner you will see the many establishments and businesses that Rustica proudly supports.  These include venues such as Otto’s Poultry, MacKenzies’ Bakery, and Mattawan Artisan Creamery, to name a few.  Further down on the menu are the food options with a short description of each meal under it.  Simplicity seems to be an important part of Rustica’s mission… until entering the restaurant.  Upon first entrance there is an overwhelming amount of tables and the dim lighting and loudness of the place only adds to a slightly chaotic feeling.

Most tables are prepared to cater to groups of four, but scattered sparsely among the crowded white-clothed, candlelit sea are a couple tables with room for up to six people.  Every seat is occupied.  Guests are chatting and smiling over glasses of French Pinot Noir, 2008 Spanish Monastrell, and Michigan’s own Wyncroft Riesling.  Conversations smash into each other and collect in the extra space of the high ceiling, giving the cramped area at least a little breathing room.  Servers wearing clean black shirts and dress pants with white towels draped over their forearms skillfully maneuver the jumble of tables to take food orders consisting of Roasted Bone Marrow complemented with olive tapenade, house jam, and grilled bread; Braised Lamb Shank served with Swiss chard gratin and roasted artichoke; and Pan-Roasted Michigan Chicken flanked by seasonal mashed potatoes and sautéed greens, complete with roasted garlic jus.

After a moderate amount of time, the food arrives via a black-laden stealthy server, who enthusiastically clears up all confusion of word meanings on the menu.  The starter is a small nest of grilled asparagus sprinkled with olive oil and fines herbes, topped with a poached egg nestled delicately in its center.  The asparagus has a robust earthy aroma that tastes like sun-baked garden, the fines herbes adding the slightest deviation of flavor to keep it interesting.  The yolk of the poached egg spills over the shoots of asparagus to create a mouth-watering dish that brings images of free-range chickens, fields of sunflowers, and a well-fed sweaty farmer to mind.

Next is the Baked Seafood Tagliatelle.  Its smell is slightly overpowering, the shrimp and parmigiano reggiano combining to create a very distinct, if not somewhat unpleasant odor, somewhere in between the muted smell of warm milk and an aquarium.  The flat noodles wind around five sweating bulging shrimp while the scallops and leeks take on a less ostentatious role, hiding under the layer of slightly crisped noodles and baked cheese.  The first few bites prove difficult, as the top layer of noodles have been hardened and are stubbornly sticking together.  The initial smell is not too hard to get over with the juicy, just-caught-this-morning taste of the steaming shrimp.  The scallops reveal themselves steadily throughout the dish, tasting of ocean breeze.  Halfway through the meal, the juices of the shrimp, scallops, leeks, and endive are discovered all congregating together near the bottom of the bowl.  It would have been nice to have these juices more evenly distributed throughout the dish, as they would have made the noodles stick together less.  Consistency is always appreciated, but the Tagliatelle needs a little more work in this department.

Then there is the Callebaut Chocolate Brownie.  This is the confectionary excellence of the brownie world.  The first bite is absolute bliss.  It is rich and not too sweet; the flavor of the cocoa beans used in it has tones of wood and dried fruit.  It is perfectly bitter, bringing out the subtle hints of roasted nuts; the aftertaste continues to intrigue and delight the taste buds long after.  It is wholesome.  The accompanying gelato comes from the Kalamazoo local Artisan shop Palazzolo’s Gelato, its creamy deep chocolate flavor adding the perfect amount of sweetness to the bitter notes of the brownie.  It has the power to render any restaurant-goer speechless and moaning in sheer chocolaty hazelnut ecstasy.

Wholesome and utterly satisfying food is something that Rustica strives to bring to the table, and it succeeds.  The service is exemplary, the food even more so (however be careful of the noodle dishes; when in doubt just order the brownie).  While the space is a bit cramped, the overall atmosphere has a feeling of closeness rather than crowded, and the tight seating adds to the restaurant’s warm and welcoming demeanor.  If getting an appetizer, entree, dessert, and a glass (or a few glasses) of wine, expect to pay anywhere from $55 to $70 for the evening.  However, if sharing with other guests, one can leave without paying more that $40 total.  The importance of locally sourced food is at the forefront of Rustica’s dining experience, and the wholesome ingredients used in its dishes make for happy taste buds, good conversation, and full stomachs. 

Culinary Tourism

When first reading Culinary Tourism by Lucy M. Long, I was at first a little baffled by her use of the Other as a means of describing and understanding foodways.  I have only ever previously understood the Other in contexts of anthropological study and other cultures.  I guess I have always looked at food as being a cultural experience, but I have never looked at it as part of the Other, which is silly because food literally connects with everything.  I would like to focus on Long's quote on page 35: "These shifts occur on a personal level as well, reflecting an individual's history, personality, experiences, and circumstances.  Food, like any cultural product, is multivocal and polysemic, and new meanings can be recognized in new contexts" (Long 35). 

Food as a means for experiencing cultural is an interesting concept for me, and brings up a few questions.  How can one truly experience and fully understand a culture simply by visiting a restaurant?  Is it not cultural appropriation, and not to mention entitled, of someone to go to an "authentic" Korean restaurant and expect to "have a cultural experience?"  What even is authentic?  Long does address this, however, stating that "the restaurants expecting a non-Korean clientele tended to use the more stereotypical Asian decor, such as beaded curtains, dragon motifs, and red napkins, with a familiar large dining room seating arrangement" (38).  I agree with Long that this is not authentic, but as she goes on to discuss how food that was once seen as somewhat 'unpalatable' to people of the U.S. have now been adopted into mainstream culture, like pizza.  What happens if we do the same to Korean restaurants (which, I could argue, has already happened)?  We are losing where these foods are coming from, what culture they are representing, and the stereotypes that U.S. Americans already have are further being perpetuated by stereotypical Asian decor.  What does this say about our expectations of Other cultures?  Long argues that "food is a powerful medium through which to enter another culture" (45), but how can we do that when we expect and want to experience only what we know about the other culture, such as the stereotypical Asian decor?  Why are there not more actual authentic Korean restaurants (I understand the need for English menus, but that's about it)?  I think the answer to this question comes from the fact that we as U.S. Americans feel entitled to take certain things from other cultures and make it work for us.  We do not understand where these foods are coming from, what they mean to a culture.  We only understand our own experiences of them.

I think that Long is getting to this point.  Her last sentence is "As destination and vehicle for tourism, food expends our understanding of both food and tourism" (46).  Notice how she does not say it expands our understanding of culture.  If she did, I don't know how I would have reacted.  However, I think she does have a point in that food is an integrative part of how we experience a culture, and how we understand it (not that this will result in a clear and non-stereotypical understanding of it).

Rustica (First Draft)

The pristine white plate held a brownie, its dark and rich body crumbling like nutrient-dense earth crumbles from well-worn hands.  A thick blanket of glistening chocolate ganache draped over its top while a scoop of Palazzolo’s chocolate gelato settled against its side, melting slightly in the wake of the brownie’s warm center.  Whole hazelnuts dotted the dessert, little white beads of subtle crunch complimenting the backdrop of intense chocolate.   

The Callebaut Chocolate Brownie took up the same space that a regular sized stapler would occupy on a desk, but at Rustica, the size of a meal reveals nothing of its quality.  Situated on Kalamazoo Mall, only a 15 minute walk from Kalamazoo College campus, you will find the small yet oh-so-satisfying restaurant, Rustica.  The concept of “Rustic European Cuisine” is at the forefront of its theme, as is its use of locally-sourced foods.  When looking at its simple menu, in the top right corner you will see the many establishments and businesses that Rustica proudly supports.  These include venues such as Otto’s Poultry, MacKenzies’ Bakery, and Mattawan Artisan Creamery, to name a few.  Further down on the menu are the food options with a short description of each meal under it.  Simplicity seems to be an important part of Rustica’s mission… until entering the restaurant.  Upon first entrance there was an overwhelming amount of tables, and the dim lighting and loudness of the place only added to a slightly chaotic feeling. 

Most tables were prepared to cater to groups of four, but scattered sparsely among the crowded white-clothed, candlelit sea were a couple tables with room for up to six people.  Every seat was occupied.  Guests were chatting and smiling over glasses of French Pinot Noir, 2008 Spanish Monastrell, and Michigan’s own Wyncroft Riesling.  Conversations smashed into each other and collected in the extra space of the high ceiling, giving the cramped space at least a little breathing room.  Servers wearing clean black shirts and dress pants with white towels draped over their forearms skillfully maneuvered the jumble of tables to take food orders consisting of Roasted Bone Marrow complimented with olive tapenade, house jam, and grilled bread; Braised Lamb Shank served with swiss chard gratin and roasted artichoke; and Pan-Roasted Michigan Chicken flanked by seasonal mashed potatoes and sautéed greens, complete with a drizzle of roasted garlic jus. 

After a moderate amount of time, our food was placed before us by our own stealthy server, who had enthusiastically aided me in my initial confusion of word meanings on the menu.  The starter was a small nest of grilled asparagus sprinkled with olive oil and fines herbes, topped with a poached egg nestled delicately in its center.  The asparagus had a robust earthy aroma that tasted like sun-baked garden, the fines herbes adding the slightest deviation of flavor to keep it interesting.  The yolk of the poached egg spilled over the shoots of asparagus to create a mouth-watering dish that brought images of free-range chickens, fields of sunflowers, and a well-fed sweaty farmer to mind. 

Next was the Baked Seafood Tagliatelle.  Its smell was slightly overpowering, the shrimp and parmigiano reggiano combining to create a very distinct, if not somewhat unpleasant odor, somewhere in between the muted smell of warm milk and an aquarium.  The flat noodles wound around five sweating bulging shrimp while the scallops and leeks took on a less ostentatious role, hiding under the layer of slightly crisped noodles and baked cheese.  The first few bites proved difficult, as the top layer of noodles had been hardened and were stubbornly sticking together.  The initial smell was not at all hard to get over with the juicy, just-caught-this-morning taste of the steaming shrimp.  The scallops revealed themselves steadily throughout the dish, tasting of ocean breeze bending blades of beach grass.  Halfway through the meal I discovered the juices of the shrimp, scallops, leeks, and endive all congregating together near the bottom of the bowl, and found myself wishing they had been more evenly distributed throughout the dish; those first few bits had been a struggle. 

If planning on going to Rustica, expect to be at first a little overwhelmed by the people, the sheer volume of tables, and the claustrophobic atmosphere.  But also be prepared to indulge in some of the most satisfyingly fresh and delicious food, much of it coming right from Kalamazoo!  Be prepared to interact with enthusiastic servers, slightly smelly fish and cheese combinations, and to leave with your stomach pleasantly full and your soul nourished.  This is simply great food.

Expectations, Assumptions and Anticipation for Rustica.

My first thought is Oh my gosh this is about to be expensive.  To be honest I am doing this restaurant review specifically at Rustica because Emma is going and we want to have a fancy night out.  Also I have never been here, and we have been talking about going for awhile, so why not?  I am expecting an elegant interior, with people dressed in black dresses and suits, all sipping Italian-crafted, decade-old wine and having deep business conversations.  I am a little intimidated.  When it comes to the food, I am expecting nothing short of fantastic.  I see the menu as having many wine choices as well as many food variations. The only points of reference that I have for its appearance are the few times I have walked past its windows to see it full of people.  I have also seen the circular sign hanging above the entrance, the name "RUSTICA," above it a silhouette image of a bike with wine bottles strapped to a shelf over the back wheel and a basket of baguettes in between the handle bars, and below it the promise of "Rustic European Cuisine."

This wood-burned sign coupled with the few glimpses of wine, dimmed lighting, and smiling faces makes me expect a fine dining experience, with good food, drink, and dessert (they better have killer dessert because honestly that's 50% of the allure for me). 

I am expecting an exceptional wait staff in addition to exceptional food, adding to my overall dining experience.  I am excited but also am unsure of the people who this restaurant most attracts.  I am assuming it is a lot of business dinners, or maybe a place to go to be fancy and dressed up for an occasion in Kalamazoo.  I think overall I just feel like I am not grown0up enough for this place!

I am expecting to spend upwards of $40 on my meal, however I would expect if I were not a college student and on a tight budget, most people are spending upwards of $80 on their meals; this is just a guess.  I am expecting Italian cuisine, but the sign says European, so I don't really know what that means at this point-- I guess I will find out!