Kaya - Restaurant Profile

Richard Haynes Kaya: soul food or sustenance? The Strip District in Pittsburgh is known for many things, but none more so than its food markets and restaurants. Most establishments in The Strip treat food with the respect it really deserves; valuing freshness and preparing from the heart. One restaurant that is working toward this ideal is Kaya (kī-yuh), on Smallman Street. Kaya features cuisine from the islands of The Caribbean, South America, Africa and the Pacific, emphasizing “fresh, high quality ingredients with bold flavor and alluring preparation.” My first experience at Kaya was early in September for lunch after my morning session of classes in Oakland. I had read about a Caribbean restaurant in The Strip and having never experienced Caribbean food before, decided to give it a try. Walking through the gold painted foyer at the front entrance into the restaurant, I realized my expectations had been a little premature; I was looking for palm trees, coconuts, grass skirts and the lot. What I entered was a hip, modern joint with a long bar down the right side with about a dozen booths along the left. The standard Strip District high ceiling was painted black, with the floor tiled in shiny dark blue ceramic. A lizard and several fish were designed into the floor with different sized glossy round tiles, colored in green, orange and red. Overall the feel was a dark one, the colors were not bright, but they were bold, making the room quite beautiful. One young couple sat quietly in a booth near the back while two older gentlemen in sport coats were practicing their rhetorical skills at the bar with such an air of grandiloquence that it was mildly entertaining. There was also a smattering of people sitting outside at tables on the sidewalk. I decided to have a seat at the bar, which is when I found my palm trees. The barstools themselves were the palm trees. Dark brown “trunks” tapered up to the cushion, which was wrapped in brown leather. Protruding from the bottom of the seats were overlapping rows of leaves made of green leather. I sat there so I could get a good look at the beer selection that was on tap. There were about 18 taps, mostly containing microbrews, but a few of the big boys as well. I ordered a German hefeweizen and perused the menu. I was pleasantly surprised to find many items on the menu that I had never heard of. Some examples of the appetizers were conch fritters, tofu cracklins, and Yucatán hot bean dip. I ordered an item named corn and lentil beignets (ben-yæz), not really knowing what it was. Some of the dishes from the entrée selection included a jerk-spiced chicken torta, pulled pork and banana sandwich, fish tacos and a black bean and pineapple quesadilla. I chose the Cuban sandwich with a side of sweet fries for my entrée. I began to fall into a deeper appreciation of my German wheat brew while awaiting my food. I took advantage of my wait, observing the small sculptures that were mixed in with the liquor behind the bar. Most were made of exotic wood and were of tribal people. One memorable figure was of an older woman with a basket on her head; she was naked and gravity had not been kind to her, if you take my meaning. As I looked around I noticed that many of the statues were indeed at least topless. Some were more “perky” than others; I think they might have been depicting fertility ideals within tribal cultures. There were two strange primitive looking wooden face masks on a shelf, the eyes of which were tightly closed and the faces gave off an expression of pain. Two painted burlap panels hung behind me with simplistically depicted images of tribal men on them, each maybe 10 feet tall. The bar itself was decorated in broken pieces of ceramic tile, mostly orange, blue and green with accents of bright red.  The colors were very vibrant in contrast to the wooden statues. I noticed a waitress with a plate of food in her hand making a bee line straight for me.             Six deep-fried golden spheres lay on the plate in front of me. The corn and lentil beignets turned out to be a little similar to hushpuppies in that they were deep fried cornmeal balls. They did have a twist though; inside these hushpuppies was what I can only describe as thick and spicy corn and lentil chowder, a liquid burst of bold flavor inside these crispy spheres of goodness. The corn gave it sweetness and the lentils kept it grounded with an earthy savor. The dipping sauce was not to my liking however; it was a green curry which made me think of the Indian dish, chicken vindaloo.  This didn’t taste Caribbean to me. The waitress saw the obvious sign of confusion and disappointment on my face. When I told her my opinion, the waitress let me know that Kaya was not a Caribbean restaurant, but included tropical island cuisine from around the world. Then it dawned on me that the artwork wasn’t Caribbean either and it all made sense. I was quite content to finish the beignets without the help of the curry sauce; they were most palatable without it. I must point out the German wheat beer was an excellent choice; the citrus tang to the brew was a great compliment to this style of food. It also had a bold enough taste to be enjoyed during the meal and not just used to wash things down with. A pilsner would not have held up to the bold, complex flavors I tasted. After finishing all the beignets my sandwich arrived situated in the middle of a plate surrounded by a vibrant orange nest made of sweet potato fries. There was a small dish of chipotle aioli dipping sauce to go with the sandwich. The first thing I did was use one of the fries to get a taste of this dipping sauce. I could not think of a time when I had tried a tastier preparation of a sweet potato! Fresh cut and fried to a crisp perfection on the outside, with the inside almost having a consistency not unlike butter; these fries were peerless. The chipotle aioli awakened my mouth with a enlivening, tingly spiciness; not too hot, but just enough to really get my mouth watering for more. If you have never had a Cuban sandwich before, let me explain the construction of the Kaya Cuban sandwich. Two halves of a soft crusted French baguette is filled with homemade pulled pork, sliced turkey and ham, melted Swiss cheese and spicy whole grain mustard. The entire sandwich is grilled while being flatted under a weight to make it manageable enough to eat, as well as toasting the crust of the bread.  The sandwich’s flavor is centered on the pulled pork, which is a paragon of perfection. The day prior the pork is marinated in Caribbean jerk spices before being smoked overnight and pulled apart by hand for each order the next day. The result is flavorful, tender, spicy pork with juices bursting forth in every bite. The sliced ham backs up this flavor with added porcine succulence. The Swiss cheese surrounds the meat on all sides, holding the sandwich together. The bread is perfectly toasted on the outside with soft yeasty flesh on the inside. The spicy mustard helps to keep the flavors separate and zaps the tongue to attention. Dipping the sandwich in the chipotle aioli takes the experience to the next level. It adds a creamy texture to the mix and imparts even more spice with a separate kind of heat from the chipotles. I rarely clean my plate, but this time was different; I devoured my sandwich like a man who had just returned home after months away at sea. I was not gorging myself from hunger, but entirely focused on experiencing all the flavors, as if I couldn’t remember the last time I had a decent bite to eat. If a big celebrity would have walked up and sat beside me I may not have noticed, I was lost in my own little world, population: sandwich, sweet fries, and your humble narrator. Finishing both halves of the sandwich I sat eating the sweet fries one at a time, wishing I would never run out, but at long last I did, only then realizing how very full I had become. I ordered another beer and sat philosophically sipping my drink, rethinking my stance on what good food could be. It is rare that such a good meal is composed of a sandwich and fries. With quality ingredients, as well as the care and technique with which they are prepared, Kaya has made me a regular customer. I even dragged my mother out to The Strip to experience it, quite to her satisfaction. I have had Cuban sandwiches before, as well as sweet potato fries, but none have ever been this enjoyable. The flavors of the ingredients speak for themselves, but they also speak in harmony with each other. This is what happens when a chef cooks from the heart and prides himself on using fresh, wholesome ingredients; the flavors come together to set your soul at ease. Any food can be filling, but only this kind of food from the heart can truly satisfy more than your appetite. Kaya’s dedication to fresh, high quality ingredients is more than a slogan. Kaya buys products from MacConnell’s Farm, a 225 year old produce farm in Aliquippa. They are also a member restaurant of the Penn’s Corner Farm Alliance, a community supported agriculture cooperative in southwestern Pennsylvania. In fact, the only premade ingredient used in Kaya’s kitchen is the tortillas, which are bought from Reyna Foods, the Latin American grocer down the street, who makes them fresh every morning. Kaya restaurant opened in 1995 and has won awards and accolades ever since. The restaurant and its siblings of big [sic] Burrito Group have even been featured on the pages of The Wall Street Journal. Wondering where the name comes from? The name Kaya comes from a Bob Marley album of the same name, which contains the hit “Is This Love?” Kaya is curiously also Jamaican slang for marijuana. While doing research on Kaya the manager showed me a scrap-book of sorts they have kept. It contains awards and newspapers clippings as well as old menus from the past. There is also a letter written in 1997 by the then mayor of Pittsburgh, Tom Murphy.  He said that Kaya brought “positive attention” to the city, as well as being a “welcomed alternative to chain restaurants.” He even said it helps “preserve Pittsburgh’s uniqueness.” I cannot tell you if what Kaya is doing is authentic tropic island cuisine, but I can say that what they are doing is done from the heart. This food seems to be more for the nourishment of your soul than for sustenance. You can walk away from Kaya being satisfied in more than one way, I surely have. 4