Eggplant Parmesean
My trip today to the employee cafteria provided a stunning glimpse into life in West Michigan and how life here is differentiated from life in other parts of the county. When I think "Eggplant Parmesean", I think of a breaded and lightly fried eggplant slice served over noodles and topped,sparsely, with cheese. A vegeterian dish to be sure.
However, in Holland, Michigan Eggplant Parmesean is apparently lasagne with the added benefit of breaded and fried eggplant. Lasagne made with thick slabs of various sausage and ham in a meat and cheese sauce topped with a 1-inch layer of cheese. A few tomatoes and red onions were sprinkled on the mixture to provide the illusion of a healthy food. Mushrooms are included for character. For a side, cheesy broccoli was supplied and placed next additional parmesean cheese to be sprinkled on top of the concoction and partnered with a roll so oily it stained through several pieces of paper here on my desk. Somewhere Mrs.Oberon is fainting at the thought.
My motivation for purchasing this toxic almagum was altruistic. I was in a meeting that ran into the lunch hour. Rather than firing up the Duramax only to run a few blocks for slightly less dubious food, I checked out the cafe on the off chance the selection may be edible. I assumed I would be purchasing the dish I described above and therefore supporting the idea that the daily selections should be more health-concious. Afterall, it seemed no one else was partaking. I was going to do my part and consume the probably-only-slightly-healthier dish. I didn't know at the time I would be consuming twice my RDA of calories, dairy, and fat all in one sitting. In fact, I think perhaps some entrepaneurs in New York City decided to export all of their transfats to West Michigan to be consumed in this one dish.
I mentioned that no one was eating the Eggplant Parmesean. I should go further and explain that the lunch ladies were actually pushing it on passers by as a healthy alternative to say, a salad. A logical argument given the ammount of dressing, cheese and ham one sees over a few springs of iceberg round these parts. I could explain the lack of interest in one of two ways. I could assume that word had gotten around about the intestinal ferocity of this dish. I could also just assume, based on my experience growing up in this area, that everyone saw the word "Eggplant" and decided to head over to Wendy's. You see, if the fine citizens of the greater Holland Metropolitan Reformed Church had actually known how much meat and cheese were in this dish they would have been lining up out the door to suck the breading off the vegetable. That's my take anyway.
It also occurred to me that this version of Eggplant Parmesean, or it's very existence/this situation, is in some way, a metaphor for my situation here in Holland. A metaphor, in so much that while I am interested in what was advertised, I was detested by the reality of Eggplant Parmesean, the cheesy broccolli, the oily roll. Even still I ate it all. Just like a blond, frugal, Dutch boy from West Michigan should. A situation based on hope, denial, and false assumptions.
West Michigan sounds like a nice place, close up I am disgusted by the rabid intolerance, the self righteousness and backwardness of West Michigan. Still, I continue to live here because it's part of who I am. A particularly poignant observation given my looming decision to perhaps pick up and move to the other side of the state. I keep thinking things are going to get better and when "better" is served up its Eggplant Parmesean, Holland style.
However, in Holland, Michigan Eggplant Parmesean is apparently lasagne with the added benefit of breaded and fried eggplant. Lasagne made with thick slabs of various sausage and ham in a meat and cheese sauce topped with a 1-inch layer of cheese. A few tomatoes and red onions were sprinkled on the mixture to provide the illusion of a healthy food. Mushrooms are included for character. For a side, cheesy broccoli was supplied and placed next additional parmesean cheese to be sprinkled on top of the concoction and partnered with a roll so oily it stained through several pieces of paper here on my desk. Somewhere Mrs.Oberon is fainting at the thought.
My motivation for purchasing this toxic almagum was altruistic. I was in a meeting that ran into the lunch hour. Rather than firing up the Duramax only to run a few blocks for slightly less dubious food, I checked out the cafe on the off chance the selection may be edible. I assumed I would be purchasing the dish I described above and therefore supporting the idea that the daily selections should be more health-concious. Afterall, it seemed no one else was partaking. I was going to do my part and consume the probably-only-slightly-healthier dish. I didn't know at the time I would be consuming twice my RDA of calories, dairy, and fat all in one sitting. In fact, I think perhaps some entrepaneurs in New York City decided to export all of their transfats to West Michigan to be consumed in this one dish.
I mentioned that no one was eating the Eggplant Parmesean. I should go further and explain that the lunch ladies were actually pushing it on passers by as a healthy alternative to say, a salad. A logical argument given the ammount of dressing, cheese and ham one sees over a few springs of iceberg round these parts. I could explain the lack of interest in one of two ways. I could assume that word had gotten around about the intestinal ferocity of this dish. I could also just assume, based on my experience growing up in this area, that everyone saw the word "Eggplant" and decided to head over to Wendy's. You see, if the fine citizens of the greater Holland Metropolitan Reformed Church had actually known how much meat and cheese were in this dish they would have been lining up out the door to suck the breading off the vegetable. That's my take anyway.
It also occurred to me that this version of Eggplant Parmesean, or it's very existence/this situation, is in some way, a metaphor for my situation here in Holland. A metaphor, in so much that while I am interested in what was advertised, I was detested by the reality of Eggplant Parmesean, the cheesy broccolli, the oily roll. Even still I ate it all. Just like a blond, frugal, Dutch boy from West Michigan should. A situation based on hope, denial, and false assumptions.
West Michigan sounds like a nice place, close up I am disgusted by the rabid intolerance, the self righteousness and backwardness of West Michigan. Still, I continue to live here because it's part of who I am. A particularly poignant observation given my looming decision to perhaps pick up and move to the other side of the state. I keep thinking things are going to get better and when "better" is served up its Eggplant Parmesean, Holland style.
posted by Oberon at 1:04 PM
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