CREEK ROAD GANG
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Is Food Spiritual?
Molly Porthcopyright 2010
Eating can be a transcendent experience for me. An ingredient, smell, or particular taste has the power to transport me back in time and space. The nibble of a boiled artichoke leaf dipped in lemon and oil sends me back to my days as a college exchange student in downtown Santiago, Chile, as I enjoy the first course of a lavish lunch with La Nana and Loreto, home from work for a midday meal. The smell of milk and cereal has the ability to place me in the drafty brown kitchen overlooking the Atlantic Ocean in Fountainstown, Ireland, where I lived with my family for five months when I was in Kindergarten. A particularly salty clump of rice can transport me to Nairobi, Kenya and “Dagoretti 4 Kids,” the redbrick boys home where I volunteered summers and joined the boys feasting with fingers on potatoes and rice - and the occasional liver if the home was ahead on finances that week - each day for our main meal.
I had a similar déjà vu moment at the end of spring semester last April when my friend, Matt, and I ventured downtown to Reading Terminal Market on the 44 Septa bus. Deemed the “Las Vegas of food” by Matt, the Market never fails to overwhelm my senses. As a result, I typically spend at least ten minutes standing baffled in the middle of the aisle, as shoppers bustle around me in all directions, not sure what I want to purchase. It happened again that day. After finally deciding that I indeed was in the mood for a lamb shawarma at Kamal’s Middle Eastern Specialties, I backtracked and ordered, enjoying it alongside a Sam Adams seasonal brew (I forget which one) at the Beer Garden.
The last time I remember eating this kind of Middle Eastern food was on another trip I took with Matt in Chile. It is common knowledge there that it would be a sin to live in the country and not travel to the south. We did that in November 2008 during a five-night, six-day tour of Puerto Montt, Puerto Varas, Chiloe and Valdivia. Although each city was special and enjoyable in different ways, Valdivia was my favorite. From the fresh free-flowing honey beer in the Kunstmann factory, to the rich candies made daily in the Entrelagos chocolate factory, to our comfortable hostel stay in a family’s residence complete with homemade breakfast, the city of Valdivia was a culinary and foodie haven.
We stumbled upon La Ultima Frontera (The Last Frontier) by accident on our first night in town. Hungry, lost and weary, we were not having any luck finding a good place to eat. As we were about to give up, we heard the inviting sound of laughter and clinking glasses coming from what appeared to be a house on the corner of the street. Practically hidden behind a tall hedge that wrapped around the property, we had found what would be our second home in Valdivia. Flaking red paint adorned the siding of the converted house, and an attached porch looked out over the lawn area. Abundant seating could be found inside, while a couple of tables with mismatched chairs beckoned from outside.
A delightfully charming and homey atmosphere (hand towel hanging in the bathroom), friendly and personal service, interior décor of the political revolution type (think anti-Bush, Che Guevara posters, etc.), and exquisite food and drink were the highlights of La Ultima Frontera.
For dinner the first night, I ordered a shawarma while Matt ordered falafel, each costing around $3.5000 Chilean pesos (7USD). Both were colossal in size and taste, served on thick pitas with delicious meat, lettuce, tomato, and sauce, not to mention a homemade extra-spicy sauce available at each table. We returned the next night for dinner and had a different waiter until Pedro, our server from the previous night, spotted us and took over. Feeling pretty full, I ordered a simple grilled cheese for $2.000 (4USD) which turned out to be enormous and somehow the most delicious version of that old standby I have ever eaten. Matt ordered falafel again.
We returned for one final visit the next day before catching the bus back to Santiago. I ordered a plate of tacos for $3.500 and Matt ordered, surprisingly, falafel. The slightly high prices on the menu were justified by the quality of the food and the large portion sizes (understatement).
Besides the excellent food and drink selection, La Ultima Frontera plays an active role in local arts, culture and activism. On one of our visits there, Matt and I stayed around late and hung out on the lawn to watch a movie shown outside on a large projection screen. It was a documentary made by local art students on underground punk music in Valdivia. We were sorry not to be able to take advantage of other cultural events scheduled in the days to come.
Back at Reading Terminal Market, there were no documentaries scheduled but I experienced again that abstract yet tangible connection between food, feeling and memory as my mind overflowed with fond recollections of Valdivia and all its foodie glory. I’m always amazed at how just a bite of a distinct cuisine can do that. And the timing for a mini-vacation was perfect. Much better to enjoy a great meal and a connection to the adventures I’ve embarked on in my past than to dwell on the term papers and final exams waiting for me back on campus.
* * *
Biographical Note for Molly Porth: Molly Porth considers herself a citizen of the world. She feels fortunate to have traveled for extensive stays to countries as diverse as England, Ireland, Chile and Kenya. A 2010 graduate of St. Joseph’s University, she is a Fulbright scholar living and teaching in Mexico. Molly’s blog, This Bird Has Flown, muses about her current international adventure. You can follow it at mollyporth.blogspot.com See also Author Index Prose L-Z for more of Molly's writing.
I had a similar déjà vu moment at the end of spring semester last April when my friend, Matt, and I ventured downtown to Reading Terminal Market on the 44 Septa bus. Deemed the “Las Vegas of food” by Matt, the Market never fails to overwhelm my senses. As a result, I typically spend at least ten minutes standing baffled in the middle of the aisle, as shoppers bustle around me in all directions, not sure what I want to purchase. It happened again that day. After finally deciding that I indeed was in the mood for a lamb shawarma at Kamal’s Middle Eastern Specialties, I backtracked and ordered, enjoying it alongside a Sam Adams seasonal brew (I forget which one) at the Beer Garden.
The last time I remember eating this kind of Middle Eastern food was on another trip I took with Matt in Chile. It is common knowledge there that it would be a sin to live in the country and not travel to the south. We did that in November 2008 during a five-night, six-day tour of Puerto Montt, Puerto Varas, Chiloe and Valdivia. Although each city was special and enjoyable in different ways, Valdivia was my favorite. From the fresh free-flowing honey beer in the Kunstmann factory, to the rich candies made daily in the Entrelagos chocolate factory, to our comfortable hostel stay in a family’s residence complete with homemade breakfast, the city of Valdivia was a culinary and foodie haven.
We stumbled upon La Ultima Frontera (The Last Frontier) by accident on our first night in town. Hungry, lost and weary, we were not having any luck finding a good place to eat. As we were about to give up, we heard the inviting sound of laughter and clinking glasses coming from what appeared to be a house on the corner of the street. Practically hidden behind a tall hedge that wrapped around the property, we had found what would be our second home in Valdivia. Flaking red paint adorned the siding of the converted house, and an attached porch looked out over the lawn area. Abundant seating could be found inside, while a couple of tables with mismatched chairs beckoned from outside.
A delightfully charming and homey atmosphere (hand towel hanging in the bathroom), friendly and personal service, interior décor of the political revolution type (think anti-Bush, Che Guevara posters, etc.), and exquisite food and drink were the highlights of La Ultima Frontera.
For dinner the first night, I ordered a shawarma while Matt ordered falafel, each costing around $3.5000 Chilean pesos (7USD). Both were colossal in size and taste, served on thick pitas with delicious meat, lettuce, tomato, and sauce, not to mention a homemade extra-spicy sauce available at each table. We returned the next night for dinner and had a different waiter until Pedro, our server from the previous night, spotted us and took over. Feeling pretty full, I ordered a simple grilled cheese for $2.000 (4USD) which turned out to be enormous and somehow the most delicious version of that old standby I have ever eaten. Matt ordered falafel again.
We returned for one final visit the next day before catching the bus back to Santiago. I ordered a plate of tacos for $3.500 and Matt ordered, surprisingly, falafel. The slightly high prices on the menu were justified by the quality of the food and the large portion sizes (understatement).
Besides the excellent food and drink selection, La Ultima Frontera plays an active role in local arts, culture and activism. On one of our visits there, Matt and I stayed around late and hung out on the lawn to watch a movie shown outside on a large projection screen. It was a documentary made by local art students on underground punk music in Valdivia. We were sorry not to be able to take advantage of other cultural events scheduled in the days to come.
Back at Reading Terminal Market, there were no documentaries scheduled but I experienced again that abstract yet tangible connection between food, feeling and memory as my mind overflowed with fond recollections of Valdivia and all its foodie glory. I’m always amazed at how just a bite of a distinct cuisine can do that. And the timing for a mini-vacation was perfect. Much better to enjoy a great meal and a connection to the adventures I’ve embarked on in my past than to dwell on the term papers and final exams waiting for me back on campus.
* * *
Biographical Note for Molly Porth: Molly Porth considers herself a citizen of the world. She feels fortunate to have traveled for extensive stays to countries as diverse as England, Ireland, Chile and Kenya. A 2010 graduate of St. Joseph’s University, she is a Fulbright scholar living and teaching in Mexico. Molly’s blog, This Bird Has Flown, muses about her current international adventure. You can follow it at mollyporth.blogspot.com See also Author Index Prose L-Z for more of Molly's writing.
