Balinese Baskets

The Burmese menu was ordinary with split laminated edges, but it displayed a variety of colorful dishes like “tea leaf salad,” “tofu with fresh mint,” and “mango chicken.” Maija and Gisela scanned it out of habit, but they already had three go-to's labeled with black stars meaning it was a staff favorite. They brought Maija’s sister, Lila, who was visiting for the week, and Gisela’s family friend, Beatrice, to their weekly date.

It was 11 o’clock and the restaurant just opened. Even though the morning air was brisk, they opted to sit outside under the pleasantly warm sun rays. “Can I get any drinks started here?” The waiter asked. They all ordered green tea except for Maija who needed two cups of coffee to socialize.

“I have been so excited to try this place since you guys told me about it!” Beatrice said clutching the cup of tea with her black dip powdered nails. “I haven’t had Burmese food since I was home. My bà actually makes it from scratch.” She was a Vietnamese princess who unintentionally gloated about her fabulous life. Gisela called it a “humblebrag.”

The coffee’s aromas brought Maija back to life. “Wow. That’s awesome. Yeah, it’s killer!” she exclaimed. “We started getting it because it’s like comfort food with noodles and rice, but not oily like Thai. It’s very light with fresh ingredients.”

Gisela turned to Lila who had been scanning the menu. “Have you had Burmese food before?” she said with a delicate voice.

Lila puckered her lips still staring at the menu. “No. I have never heard of it, but I like chicken,” she said giggling. Lila opened up around Gisela because she felt comfortable in her presence.

“How about shrimp?” she cocked her head.

“I haven’t tried it,” Lila said softly.

“You’ve never tried shrimp? How?” Beatrice interjected. Lila shrugged.

“Don’t worry, the food here is great!” Gisela smiled and shook the shoulder of her wool jacket.

Maija loved that Lila was finally old enough to visit. She had been waiting to take her on adventures to broaden her horizons. She looked at Lila. It was like staring into a youthful mirror.

Maija sipped her coffee while watching Gisela converse with Beatrice and Lila. She thought back to her first dinner in Bali, which was also her first dinner abroad. She recalled seeing the prawn’s miniature bean-shaped eyes and how they reflected the moonlight as Gisela opened the rattan basket and maneuvered the body between her hands. Maija watched, secretly hoping she would drop it under their feet, back into the ocean where the critter belonged. The legs appeared to be moving as Gisela twisted it and for a split second, Maija imagined the prawn galloping under the shimmering surface only fifteen feet away. Crack. Gisela swiftly ripped off the head.

“Don’t worry I’ll do it for you,” Gisela said with a grin. “Just ball the rice. It’s in the other basket.” She gestured towards it with her head while her hands were at work. Maija gladly grabbed the rice basket.

Gisela laid the shrimp-like meat on Maija’s plate as she used her hands to shape together a patty of jasmine rice. She stuck the prawn and rice together, dipping it into the soy sauce and shoving it all into her mouth as Gisela, her family, and their family friends watched. Even the waiter peered from behind the table, holding a brown Balinese basket filled with another mysterious seafood dish.

Maija chewed nervously. “Woah,” she said wide-eyed with a mouth full of rice. “I actually like it!” She turned and held a thumbs up to the waiter. He grinned placing the basket in front of her. “Makasih,” she said nodding.

Gisela grabbed it. “This one you won’t like. Too fishy.” Maija trusted her judgment because Gisela was her shepherd, steering the way through every dining experience. She grabbed two skewers of chicken satay, exposing her wrist of thinly plated diamonds, and placed them on Maija’s plate. Her bracelets flickered from translucent to orange mimicking the candles in the breeze.

Gisela was extremely rich, but Maija only twice thought about it because, well, the koi pond under their whole backyard and the six houses scattered across the world were hard not to think about. Gisela wore all black with jewelry that only chic millionaires would spot because it was simple without obvious branding. She had wide almond-shaped eyes that were dark brown, almost a blackish color to the point where the iris and pupil could not be differentiated. The best eye color in Maija’s opinion because it was soothing and deep. It was like sunglasses for a beady pupil. Her hair was shiny, and she never wore makeup because her skin looked like it was airbrushed.

“Did you enjoy Phuket?” She leaned forward on her wrist. “When we were there last month, we found a secluded beach!” She continued, raising her eyebrows. “After tanning for about 30 minutes, we heard a bullhorn. It turned out to be a what do you call it? A national sanctuary.”

“Well, I happened to behave myself and not break any laws,” Mr. Kiri said chuckling. “It was fantastic. We dove every morning. No wetsuit. Crystal clear water.” His voice was deep and husky, almost sensual. It was like listening to music with base, vibrating the table and chairs. “Wahoo! Have you ever heard of that fish?” Gisela shook her head without breaking eye contact. “Oh, it’s striped and bright blue. Zooms right past you!” He made a swift hand gesture.

“That’s incredible! I didn’t see any… Wahoos?” She laughed.

“Yes, I believe the name came from Oahu.” Mr. Kiri continued telling Gisela more of their captain’s trivia. For a second, it felt like Maija was observing a date rather than a family dinner. It wasn’t a clandestine mission because anyone who talked to Gisela was captivated by her questions and humorous personality. The rest of the world became irrelevant. Only outsiders could break off the conversation.

She reminded Maija of her father, a farmer who grew alfalfa and raised cattle. They had two similarities. They both asked questions without fear due to their curious spirits. It was typical of a small towner, but he didn’t have any ulterior motives to spread gossip because he was genuinely interested in people’s stories. Gisela was similar and unafraid to ask about delicate matters. People could sense her authenticity so there were no restricted subjects. Furthermore, it was the way her father would lead animals mounted upon his stallion, anticipating their needs in the countryside. It was like eating with Gisela because no matter what popped out of the Balinese basket or bamboo steamer, she gladly demonstrated how to eat it and always ordered a basic dish she knew Maija liked.

“OK. What can I get for you ladies?” The waiter pulled out his white notepad. Gisela ordered the usual with extra rice.

“Well, I’ll nibble on that, but can I also get the… crab soup. Extra spicy. Thanks.” Beatrice handed the menu to the waiter. He collected the others and dashed inside.

Lila leaned over to Maija and whispered, “Do they have any regular chicken? Like teriyaki chicken?”

Maija wanted her to try the dishes they ordered because the only “Asian” food Lila had tried was teriyaki and orange chicken. She knew the foods had many ingredients tossed together, a picky eater’s nightmare, but the flavors were impeccable. “Trust me, you’ll love what Gisela ordered,” Maija said quietly.

Beatrice grabbed the specials menu off the center of the table. “They have buko and peanut butter ice cream! We should get the peanut butter. Delicious.”

“Gisela hates peanut butter ice cream,” Maija said with an amused tone.

“Yeah, I only like peanuts in savory things.”

“I can’t trust you! What is wrong with you.” Beatrice was shocked. “How about the peanut butter and chocolate gelato from Field Street? That’s to die for.”

“Nope. That’s even worse when they add chocolate,” Gisela said. “I love sorbet.”

“Yuck! I can’t stand fruity desserts like strawberry or lemon,” she winced.

“I love peanut butter cups in ice cream,” Lila said with a grin.

“Thank god we have a normal person here!” Beatrice laughed in a high-pitched tone.

Gisela smiled at Maija to express just how delighted she was to have this obligation from her parents of being friends with Beatrice and inviting her to their weekly R&R lunch. Maija raised her brows and chuckled. “It’s good though. It means there’s more for you to have. You don’t have to share it,” Gisela said clenching her teeth, but still smiling. Beatrice was one of the few people that could annoy her.

While Beatrice talked about her latest boyfriend to Lila, her captive audience, Maija zoned out. She thought about when Gisela visited their farm during their college winter break. It snowed the whole week, so they were trapped inside. They played chess and watched home makeovers on cable TV. Maija was nervous about boring Gisela, but they had a great time. She was low maintenance and wanted to sit by the fire and talk to everyone, especially Lila since they both were animal lovers.

“Do you get to know the cattle?” she asked Lila.

“Sometimes. There’s one that I can get close to when they come to get water. I like the babies because they’re fuzzy,” she said shaking.

“I saw! I really want to pet one.”

“Maybe I can ask my dad to drive us down tomorrow?” she shrugged.

“I’d love that!”

Lila’s dad mumbled from the kitchen. “I think it’s time for dinner. We are having Frito pie, but don’t worry, there’s no beef in it.”

Gisela ate all of the hardy foods and praised Lila and Maija’s grandmother, “Lena” for her cooking. Lena showed her the family cookbooks and special pans like for Granny’s Apple Bundt Cake. Gisela helped cook lunch and would nap on the tiny soft after the butter-filled meal. She’d sleep with her legs under her body and prop herself up on a tiny pillow. It made everyone laugh, but that’s how she was—malleable and adaptable.

At night they would lay facing each other in bed, sharing stories from their first year of college. They would laugh about their crushes, drunk nights, and attractive professors. Of course, they all had secret crushes on Gisela. They were simply two girls, a pair of best friends, from different worlds who both loved each others' humor and compassion.

Beatrice held her phone up to Maija and panned it to the rest of the table. “He wants to watch a movie this weekend. Again! I was hoping for something more exciting.” She continued talking and Maija looked at Lila with her round, sweet face, as she was politely listening to Beatrice. She just turned fourteen and was ready for her first vacation with the girls. Maija felt heavy-hearted. Lila hadn’t learned about Burma, technically Myanmar, and why did it matter? She didn’t need to want to have fresh foods with intricate flavors.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” Maija said standing and fixing her sweater. She walked inside towards the bathroom and saw the waiter inputting information into the black screen by the kitchen entrance. “S’cuse me?”

“Yes?” The waiter asked.

“Could we order a side of chicken? Something simple.”

“We have a side of fried chicken. Or…” He said looking up to think.

“No, that’s perfect! Fried chicken is perfect,” Maija said with a smile. “Thank you.”