Nostalgic nations at Movenpick Marche

Oh, the good old days! Arriving in Zurich late at night. Braving the rain. Plonking our suitcases at the St. Gothard. Shivering slightly, unaccustomed to the cold. Feeling uncomfortably peckish. Out on the streets again, wrapped from head to toe, in search of a sanctuary.

Until we saw that sign. An urban chalet. Red brick and glass windows. Potted plants. Red-and-white checked tablecloths. Balloon lamps. Pots and pans. Country kitchen. The smell of french fries. Coupe Danemark being served to wide-eyed boys. Extra chocolate topping. Wholesome milk being poured into jugs. Movenpick's micro-universe of warmth.

Many, many years later. Ground floor. Graha Surya Internusa building, Jl. Rasuna Said, South Jakarta. The word Marche (read: Mar-shay), which means a market selling fresh produce, did little to obscure the smaller print underneath. Movenpick, bless its soul, has come to Jakarta.

Warm lighting offset by crazy colors zigzagging from every angle. Fresh chilies hanging down from stall roofs like a string of flames. Tinsels of fresh garlic, leeks and onions dangling from grillers. Flower garlands adorning everything from lamp posts to exhaust fans.

Artificial plants of every description wrap themselves around chiffoniers, buffets, sideboards. Beautiful hampers filled with fresh bread. Trays stacked with pastry. The seductive aroma of brewing Viennese Coffee from a corner. The smell of fresh pizza emanating from giant wood-fire ovens.

Icy cold watermelons, oranges and cantaloupes gorging out from blenders. Baskets of fresh fruit on a deflated sack of grain, its contents spilling over freely. Red ripe tomatoes, bright orange carrots, electric yellow squashes, mounds of golden potatoes, all lovingly arranged at individual market stalls. Crabtree and Evelyn meets Laura Ashley in a jardiniere of hues, flowers and fresh food.

It's a perennial Christmas at Movenpick Marche. There are at least a dozen stalls to visit, each an art house of its own. I was in the attack mode. A waitress stopped me to ask whether I was planning to eat. I gave her an incredulous look: "What do you mean, am I planning to eat?" She got the message, and gave me and my companion a guest card each.

"What are these for?" I asked perkily. She said I would get stamps on them for each item purchased. Ooh, okay, whatever. I accepted it and was gone in a flash.

Crepes, fruit and vegetable juices, pastry, cakes, muffins, custards, puddings and six flavors of Movenpick ice cream stared up at me in abundance. The Deli Shop, selling delicacies, sausages, cheeses and cold cuts, also looked too good to be true. Not to mention the sandwiches, the kebabs, and, last but not least, the enticing Japanese Robata Stall.

Upstairs, the selection is even wider. The European Grill section comprises fresh meat, vegetables and seafood; the Pizza section boasts thin-crust Italian pizzas; the Salad Bar serves up Sizzler-like salad varieties; the Asian Cuisine/pasta section is a jazzy rectangular stall which combines soup cauldrons, pots of spaghetti sauce and modern woks. The Kids Club is a spacious indoor play area where children can socialize while munching on various goodies while their parents go absolutely crazy in the Marche. Why, they can even learn some table manners!

Does it stop there? Not a chance. The place isn't only an international food court, it's also a global village with as many as six special dining areas (that is, in addition to the regular sitting areas). Just think of the cross-cultural exercises you can try! The possibilities are endless.

You can have Gindara Teriyaki in the rustic Swiss Chalet setting, Heineken beer in Little Siam; Mussels in Cream Sauce in Warung Betawi, Grilled U.S. Rib-eye Steak in Calimba Paradise, Chinese Fried Rice in Sunset Boulevard, Fish n' Chips in Il Grotto and Bierchermuesli in Le Petit Bistro. This is the ultimate one-stop restaurant, bistro, sandwich bar, creperie, tearoom, pizzeria, steakhouse, brasserie, tavern, trattoria, delicatessen, grocery, fish mart and Kids Club.

Having feasted our eyes for at least half an hour, we decided not to align ourselves to any particular "cultural setting". So we settled down in front of the Seafood section. I got my first stamp for a regular orange juice and felt as if I had done something very clever. At the end of his first turn, my friend got himself a huge glass of Carlsberg. He also had a smug, complacent look about him.

We sipped our respective beverages in silence, each calculating a secret move. Then I decided to go down to the Japanese Robata (Grill) Bar. Trying to be dainty about the whole thing, I handed my plate to the friendly guys at the counter. Two chicken yakitori sticks, one gindara, two salmon steaks. As I waited, I asked the standard questions, "How long have you been open?" etc.

Service was top-notch. Everybody seemed to know what they were doing. And, of course, everything from the fish down to the chives on display were resoundingly and utterly fresh.

My friend's grilled mackerel, purchased in the Seafood section, was no match for the succulence of my gindara steak, or my wonderfully light yakitori-teriyaki sauce. But his mussels in cream sauce were out of this world.

"Why did you choose mackerel? Why not snapper or pomfret?" I jeered. He retorted wryly, "So what if I did?" Needless to say, that was the extent of the conversation.

The fresh meat selection includes Marche Burger, Beef and Chicken Teriyaki, Rib-eye Steak, and Bratwurst, but since none of them was left, my friend chose U.S. Lamb Chops with Onion Gravy. Although they were slightly overcooked and a wee too small for our liking, they still passed muster.

After capping it off with an excellent Iced Coffee and Caramelita Ice Cream, I intoned dreamily, "Once when I was a kid of 12, I went to Switzerland and Austria, and there was Movenpick..." My friend, stuck with the Rp 99,000 bill, calmly paid up, but not before adding, "Yes, and you've said it a hundred times already".

-- Epicurus