Osteria's Treats: Short of Expectations

Rama Sarraj  

In an attempt to find Italian dessert that would be as authentic as Iorio’s gelato, my friend and I decided to explore Mani Osteria on East Liberty. The atmosphere was great – bustling, bubbly, and fun. Our main meal was impeccable, so naturally we had high hopes for dessert. We ordered the mini cannolis, which come in three flavors (lemon-ricotta, chocolate, and pistachio), espresso panna cotta, and Limóncello flavored gelato. Unfortunately, the desserts were not on par with our expectations. The cannolis, though flavorful, were slightly dry. For those looking for a rich and satisfying dessert, they are also too light and small (they are bite-sized). They were also not sweet enough to satisfy my (difficult-to-satisfy) sweet tooth. Moving on, the panna cotta was better in terms of size and taste, but it was lacking coherence in flavors. It is a rather unusual for a panna cotta; it comes in a cup and is divided into several layers: the first layer consists of a white cream topped with candied almonds, the second a jam/jelly-like substance, and the third a rich espresso-flavored mousse. The candied almonds were crunchy, caramel-flavored and delicious. The whipped cream, however, was more like heavy whipping cream. It seemed to have no sugar and was very flat. The second layer, though sweet and tasty, had an odd, gooey texture that did not blend in with the cream at all. On the other hand, the third layer, the espresso mouse, was not as soft as one would expect and tasted very strongly of coffee. For coffee-lovers, this might be a treat. But for cream-lovers like myself, the panna cotta contains very few hints of the creamy goodness of the authentic Italian dessert. The Limóncello gelato was the best of the three desserts – it was creamy yet zesty and refreshing, a difficult combination to get right, but the three-scoop portion was more than enough for two!

Though the overall quality of the desserts at Mani was high, there were too many inconsistencies in the portions, textures, and flavors. With a little work, these classic Italian desserts could be fabulous. This is not to say that Mani is not a first-class restaurant – perhaps it is because the main course food is so great. I would strongly recommend a main course at Mani, but Ann Arbor has many other restaurants and cafés that can offer a scrumptious Italian dessert treat.

Food and Philanthropy

Courtney Chandler  

After deciding to come to Michigan, I remember thoroughly searching through the seemingly endless list of clubs offered across campus. Being a foodie, I took special note of clubs involving cooking, eating, or any combination of the two. In the end, I not only found Wolverine CuiZine, but additionally found two clubs that incorporated my love of food and philanthropy: Project Flavor and Kid’s Kitchen.

The members of Project Flavor meet bi-monthly at the Ronald McDonald House of Ann Arbor, which provides a ‘home away from home’ for families with hospitalized children. Ann Arbor’s Ronald McDonald house is located across from the Mary Markley dormitory, in close proximity to Mott’s Children’s Hospital. On alternating Fridays, members cook dinner for the families, and everything is made from scratch – from apple crisp to tabbouleh to hamburger buns (which ended up being a complete disaster and prompted a last-minute emergency trip to the store). At the end of each cook date (which last about four hours), the families come in and eat the meal.

Kid’s Kitchen has a similar mission statement – members meet approximately once a month for baking events. At these events, everyone bakes different sweet treats (such as cookies, cupcake, and rice krispie treats), which are then delivered to Mott’s Children Hospital or the Ronald McDonald house.

Both clubs offer extremely rewarding experiences, and the dinner and sweet treats hopefully bring homemade comfort to families and children in trying situations. Other food clubs across campus include: the Ann Arbor Student Coop, which provides fresh, affordable, and sustainable food to students on campus; Cultivating Community, which empowers students to become leaders in sustainable food systems through hands on organic gardening, community outreach, and education; and Food Futures, which brings together members of the Michigan law community and other professional and gradate students to help promote intelligent food production and food security policies.

I Am a Host: Sushi vs. Sashimi

S. Jin Lee  

Over the past summer, I enjoyed my first taste of dormitory emancipation by staying at a sublet during the spring term. Not used to cooking for myself in the dorms, I took up a job as a host-slash-cashier at a local Japanese restaurant. This way, I would have a moderate income to support my “let’s-just-get-takeout-for-every-meal” lifestyle. My job entails greeting and seating dine-in customers and taking to-go orders over the phone, among other tasks. It’s a pretty good job: the pay is decent, the coworkers are friendly, and most importantly, the employee meals are free.

As a first-time restaurant host, I’ve made some observations about our specific Japanese eatery, the food industry in general, and the people they both serve (primarily because during off-peak hours, that’s all I can do). One of the first things I noticed after taking profuse amounts of to-go orders over the phone was that not many customers knew the difference between sushi and sashimi. I initially was taken aback by this; I had thought Japanese food was pervasive enough in American culture for the average US citizen to have some basic understanding of the cuisine. After overcoming my initial (and slightly snobby) judgment, I quickly thought to myself that a simple explanation for the customer will make everything clear.

Boy, was I naïve.

To clarify, “sushi” (more specifically nigiri) is sliced, raw fish atop rice, while “sashimi” is the same style of fish without rice. For people who infrequently eat Japanese food, I would be more than willing to help a customer out with differentiating between the two. Similar to when I dine at Italian restaurants and order pasta, I never remember the difference between penne, rotini, and linguine. In my desperation, I graciously accept help from my server. However, I’m less inclined to help someone who, after learning about the two, is dead-set on ordering five orders of “tuna sashimi with rice.” I could always just punch in what I assume the customer wants, but then I run the risk of getting the order completely wrong and in turn, paying out of my pocket for it. Having experienced this before and receiving an earful from the sushi chefs (turns out that the customer misspoke and actually just wanted tuna sashimi, how about that) I really don’t want to do it again. I still have nightmares of middle-aged, five-foot-five men berating me about raw fish. Therefore, in cases like this, I have to keep pressing the customer for more details, resulting in phone calls that are ten minutes longer than they should be.

Time, in this case, is money.

It’s even worse when this confusion happens on a larger scale. There’s an item on our menu called the Takara Bune, which literally translates to “treasure boat” in English. It’s a hefty platter of sashimi (with an equally hefty price of 180 dollars) that is meant to feed eight “sashimi lovers only,” as amusingly described by our menu. When customers order this, they should know what they’re getting into, as the Bune requires a huge investment on their part. Now, this hasn’t happened to me personally, but I heard a story about a previous server who neglected to ensure that his customers knew what they were ordering. When the customers received the Bune, they noted that they did not receive sushi rice with the raw fish and demanded that the chefs correct the mistake. It’s a reasonable complaint and the fault is on the server, who should have taken the extra time to clarify and verify the customers’ wants. Fortunately, the sushi chefs (begrudgingly) took back the Bune and put sushi rice with the sashimi. The customers were satisfied and the server did not have to take the personal financial hit.

Despite the server’s luck, I still shed a tear for him. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the chefs blasted him in front of all the employees for his “incompetency.” Like I hinted earlier, when someone messes up an order that big and costly, hell hath no fury like a sushi chef scorned.