Return Diner, Return Traveler

WICHITA, Kan. – There's plenty of "Ethnic" food, as it is regrettably known around here, in Wichita, you just need to know where to look. Thanks to my friend Ryan from Hong Kong, a couple nights I ate at Café Asia.

It was my first Asian meal since, well, Asia.

The restaurant's decor and location weren't impressive: a small space hidden at the back of a strip mall in the north side of town. Inside there were tablecloths hiding tables that looked straight out of a cafeteria and a collection of Buddhas and postcards on the plain walls. At one corner there was a section of DVDs, with a sign: "Not for Sale." Children of the owner watched them when they came to the restaurant after school.

I studied the many-sectioned menu. There were "Appetizers," "Chinese Favorites," "Chef's Specialties," "Thai Items," and "Combination Plates." Each one had several dishes, with the ingredients explained in grammatically correct but sometimes confusing English ("pork with pieces of sliced vegetables cooked together").

The menu, did however give away that the restaurant was owned by a Malaysian family. The Chef's Specialties were all Malaysian, the rest was just a drab mixture of Chinese and Thai that most Asian restaurants in small-town America feel they need to offer to ensure a crowd.



I asked the waitress for Nasi Lombok, the Pad Thai of Malaysia, and something I ate quite frequently when I visited the country.

She looked surprised. "Oh, I've heard of that. Yes, yes I have had that once. We don't have that here."

I wound up getting a kind of sweet Malaysian noodle, which were pretty good, but the real point of that request an excuse to converse. I told the waitress of my travels in the country, and in turn she told her story.

She was from northern peninsular Malaysia. That's why they had Thai on the menu, because the country is quite close to the border so people knew how to make some of the dishes. She also knew some Chinese people in her hometown, so she knew something about that cuisine, too. Business in Wichita was fine, if not booming. She longed to make a return visit to her home country. She'd done it once before. Maybe next year.

On the way out the door, I said goodbye to my new Malaysian friend. She'd been very friendly, talking for nearly 20 minutes, pausing in between to help other customers.

"Wait," she said, "Take this."

She pushed a piece of paper into my hand. I opened it when I got outside. I was expecting a menu, for my return to the restaurant. Instead it was a tourist brochure, for my return to Malaysia.