Date: Saturday, January 31, 2015
Location: Los Angeles (primarily UCLA and Westwood are)
My cousins and I are close. We like to get together every now and
then. Somehow, I end up planning many of our day trips, but I don't mind. It
gives me a chance to steer the agenda to my objectives. Mwahaha. Aren't I devious?
In this case, I wanted to do some research. I'm setting a book
I'm writing in April, "Counterfeit Diamond," in a magical version of
Dutch-colonized Indonesia. It's not the easiest country to research, but I did
discover that the Fowler Museum had Indonesian artifacts and that there was an
Indonesian restaurant nearby. I presented my agenda to the cousins ands was
surprised by their enthusiastic response. So the date was set and we were off.
 |
| The Party of Intrepid Adventurers (minus Krystal who took the photo) |
Seven of us went on this adventure: me, Mitchell, Krystal, Kevin,
Alyson, Nathan, and Nathan's girlfriend Cindy. Mitchell and Krystal picked me
up around 9:30, while the rest of the party set off in a second car a short
while later. It was a warm, sunny, clear day, and since it was Saturday, the
traffic was relatively light.
Stop 1: California Donuts (Korea Town)
This was actually the pick of my cousin Kevin.
California Donuts, a corner donut shop in Korea Town, in an
unremarkable block, distinguished by the line of people trickling onto the
sidewalk. If you squeeze past them and stare at the case, you'll see a wide
variety of donuts with toppings that will bring out the inner kid in you.
 |
| Our First Stop |
Green-frosted donuts, pink-frosted donuts with sprinkles, donuts
topped with Saturday morning cereals, donuts with cookies crumbles, donuts
topped with bacon. They also have an Oreo donut in the shape of a panda, but
those were unavailable today.
Our car arrived first. Parking in the parking lot was out of the
question, but fortunately, we found a spot along the sidewalk of a nearby
residential zone after only 5 minutes of mostly stress-free searching.
The line went fast, and while we were still deciding, it was time
to order. I bought a box of six mostly normal donuts, figuring that everyone
else would buy only one or two specialty donuts and fill up on my cheaper ones.
That didn't really pan out. As it turned out, it was almost impossible to buy
one.
Afterwards, Krystal and I stood in the parking lot, taking
selfies and not caring a wit if we looked like tourists. Mitchell directed the
second car to the parking lot. Once we all had our donuts, we set our boxes on
the trunk of Mitchell's car, cut them into fourths with plastic knives, and
began passing around donut pieces like hors d'oeuvres.
 |
| Donut tailgate party! |
Here are some of the donuts we ate:
•
Maple Bacon Bar (The boys loved it. The
girls weren't so keen.)
•
Fruity Pebbles (The cereal provided a
nice crunch.)
•
Snickers (A whole Snickers bar was baked
into the donut, along with toppings of chocolate chips and nuts. It was too
much.)
•
Samoa (Based off the girl scout cookie,
with coconut flakes and chocolate on top. Taking a bite of with a piece of the
real cookie was good, but the rest tasted ordinary)
•
Cinnamon Toast Crunch (I thought the
frosting was a normal glaze randomly colored purple, but it actually had a
different, slightly creamier flavor. It was pretty good.)
•
Japanese Green Tea (Matcha has a
distinctive strong, bitter flavor that was missing here. The Matcha could
hardly be found.)
We stood and we ate and those who bought milk drank it and we had
a good time together.
Stop 2: The Hammer Museum (UCLA)
The Hammer Museum is a free art museum open to the public.
It's on the part of
UCLA that bleeds into the city. I wanted to go there, for three reasons. One,
I like free museums. Two, it was conveniently located midway between my two
true destinations: The Fowler Museum and Ramayani. Three, I discovered that
parking was a mere $3 all day on Saturdays and Sundays. Score!
 |
| Inside the Hammer Museum |
We all arrived by 12:30 and spent the next half hour exploring
the galleries.
The
Armand Hammer Collection,
which was half-hidden on the third floor, contained a pretty thorough Who's Who
of Western art. In one little room was stuffed paintings by Van Gogh, Monet,
Degas, Remembrandt, and Titan, to name a few. Mitchell admired the huge
religious paintings where the figures in the bible were dwarfed by the
magnificent surroundings. I liked a pair of contrasting Van Goghs: dismal gray
landscape of his home country of the Netherlands and his signature flurry of
colors in France.
We also browsed a couple of galleries holding temporary exhibits.
On the ground floor was a display of
Francis Upritchad f
igurative sculptures of tricksters and non-conformist characters, including an
old woman with face half in yellow and half in blue (could she be a Bruins
fan?) and a green-faced red-head with colorful clothes. They were arranged near
paper mache crocodiles and dinosaurs. I liked this exhibit more than the
others, which showed a sculpture made of guns and a bizarre video.
 |
| Sculpture by Francis Upritchard |
The people at the desk told us
dancers were performing near the gift shop, but the first time we saw one, we thought
she was injured. A woman, alone on the staircase, lay in such an broken
position, it looked as if she'd taken a nasty fall. We asked if she was all
right. She didn't answer.
Uncertain, we
continued up the stairs and saw three more women in contorted poses moving very
slowly. We figured it was art.
All the
dancers were very quiet, and something about their windblown hair and dull
faces made me think of mannequins.
Walking UCLA
By the time we got out of the museum, it was 1:00. I wanted to go
to the Fowler Museum on the other side of the
campus.
We walked. Why not? We're all young and in decent shape, and it
was really just a little over a mile. The sidewalk was on a slight incline, but
nothing too steep. Stores showed displays of Valentine's gifts and Bruins
paraphernalia. But once we came to the campus proper, it was quieter, with
shade trees and beautiful buildings.
 |
| I model a shade tree in UCLA |
We came to Bruin Plaza and immediately got distracted by the
statue of a bear (UCLA's mascot), the Sports Hall of Fame, and, worst of all, a
giant campus bookstore. That bookstore nearly sunk us. In an ironic, I was the
one who had to tell everyone to stop looking at books and get going.
Up until then, the walk was straight north on Westwood Boulevard,
but after Bruin Plaza, we turned right, up what looked like a hill with
billboards advertising clubs. A million stairs loomed, but before we had to
climb them, the route turned north again, to a grassy quad complete with
lounging college students and--I kid you not--a brick castle in the background.
The castle was beautiful, but we had no chance to check it out, because the
Fowler Museum was straight ahead.
 |
| Looks like a brick castle to me. |
Stop 3: The Fowler Museum (UCLA)
The Fowler Museum is another small, free
art museum, but its focus is more on artifacts and non-Western art. Inside, the
main corridors made a square around a courtyard housing a peaceful fountain and
a some palm trees.
 |
| Fountain in the courtyard of the Fowler Museum |
The main exhibit was called
Intersections,
and featured artifacts from around the world. Surprisingly, most were made in
the 19th and 20th century. Now, I was trying to research Indonesia, so I spent
most of my time here, but I won't bore you with the details. Suffice it to say,
I took notes on Indonesian betel cutters, textiles, puppets, and a video about
the baroung, which looked like a Chinese New Year Dragon and is used in
religious ceremonies.
Across the hall sat the second permanent gallery,
Reflecting Culture.
It housed silver treasures such as a piece by Paul Revere, a cup rumored to
belonged to Rasputin, and a huge ship made of silver. Compared to the European
highly ornamental plates, cups, and tea pots, America's silver pieces plain and
boring.
 |
| Artifact in the "Intersections" display |
I also wandered a temporary exhibition called
World Share that included glass African statues, a bicycle piled high with boxes, razors
suck in Styrofoam, a pyramid of colorful paper wads, and several bird houses
nailed together on the wall. Actually, it was interesting, because the shine
and colors would draw you in, but you wouldn't know what anything was until you
took a second look.
There was also a display
Contemporary Art from the Emirates,
but I didn't have time to do more than glance at it.
Stop 4: Ramayani Indonesian Restaurant (Westwood Boulevard)
It was 3:45. Time for a late lunch, early dinner.
Walking south down Westwood Boulevard, we passed Thai
restaurants, Japanese restaurants,
Chinese restaurants, Greek restaurants, Indian restaurants, French restaurants, Persian restaurants, Lebanese restaurants, and a store called Nathan's
Bagels that advertised falafel and sushi. But we were on a mission to try
Indonesia food.
Ramayani was the name of the restaurant we sought. I was supposed to be blazing the
trail, but I got distracted by my second-take of Nathan's Bagels and fell
behind. Suddenly the alarm was called. "There it is!"
My party disappeared into a store front.
 |
| Alyson models her meal in Ramayani |
I barely had time to glance at the yellow awnings, before I found
myself stepping inside, going 'round the wooden statue of the dancer, passing
the shelves of exotic groceries, and being seated in a long table in the corner.
One side faced a window and the wall showed a painting of a woman in rice
fields. The restaurant was clean and beautiful, our waiter was extremely
polite, prices were affordable, and the food came quickly.
None of us had ever eaten
Indonesia food before, so I made it a rule that we all had to order something different and
taste each other's food. This, however, made getting good nearly impossible,
for as soon as a dish came, we were passing it around the table like a
Thanksgiving meal, scooping sample on our plate.
Here's some of the food we ate:
•
Otak Otak--gourmet fish cakes grilled in
banana leaves (They arrived rolled up like cigarettes with a side of sweet,
peanut satay sauce. The white steamed cake had a mildly pleasant fishy flavor.)
•
Guimie
Dan Pangsit Goreng--braised noodles topped with chicken and
mushrooms sauce served with fried wontons (The noodles were chewy and
toothsome. It also came with a clear broth.)
•
Ayam Sauce Ramayan--crispy chicken pieces
smothered in a sweet and tangy barbecue sauce (The chicken was crispy with just
the right amount of char, and the sauce was sweet and thick and tasted of
pineapples. Yum!)
•
Gule Kambing--lamb stewed in a curry of 15 aromatic Indonesian spices (The curry wasn't spicy at all. The lamb was tender, with
hardly any of that funky aftertaste lamb tend to have.)
• Nasi Goedeg--young jack fruit
and coconut milk stew served with a combination plate of chicken curry, egg, and rice
(This was mine, and I think it had the most exotic taste. The jack fruit was
floral and unusual. The stew also housed something nutty and dense--tempe,
perhaps--and stewed meat. The hard boiled eggs had an interesting a sweet and
spicy red pepper relish on top of it.)
 |
| Otak Otak |
On the whole, the food was reminiscent of Thai food, though it
seemed a bit sweet, rather than spicy. Our meal was delicious. We ate it all up
and were satisfied.
Then it was time for dessert. Now, the menu contained many
perfectly nice foods, and we did in fact order Ice Shanghai, a combination of
mixed fruits, mung beans, and grass jelly topped with vanilla syrup and
condensed milk. The grass jelly was brown squares that tasted odd but pleasant,
and the mung beans were green with the texture of firm gelatin and no flavor at
all.
But something less pleasant lurked on the dessert menu
Ice Durian--sweet durian, brown sugar, and coconut milk
Food Dare: Durian
Durian is the infamous food that Andrew Zimmerman, who made a
living eating boiled sheep heads, wouldn't eat. I saw an episode of Chopped
where the judges described it as smelling and tasting like garbage. So, of
course, I had to taste it for myself.
The waiter tried to warned us. He said that very few people
enjoyed the taste.
"That's fine," I said. "I like trying new
things."
 |
| Fruit Feared by 1000 Chefs |
The Durian arrived in a parfait glass, lurking underneath a crush
of ice. The mix of fruit chunks and juice looked an unappetizing sludge color.
It didn't reek--we had to press our noses to the glass to sniff in any aroma at
all. I was relieved that the garbage smell was closer to moldy water than
chicken fat on a hot day.
Believe it or not, my heart actually pattered in my chest as I
thought about tasting it. I gripped my spoon, but I was robbed of the drama of
the moment, when someone took the cup and unceremoniously downed a big
spoonful.
The boys hated it. The girls were more tolerant. Alyson said it
tasted like raw onions, which it sort of did. First it tasted of raw onions,
then of custard, then back to raw onions, with the faint odor of garbage
lingering in the back of your nose. I didn't like it, but I will go on record
saying it was not the worst thing I ever ate. Natto (slimy fermented soy beans)
was much more disgusting.
