Cara H.
Google
Five Stars, One Tuna, and a Case of “The Fish in the Cabbage”
I ordered the coconut-marinated tuna, and when I say the portion was enormous, I mean this fish showed up like it had ambitions to feed a small village. Normally, I’m the type who leaves no edible thing behind. This time? I was defeated. Respectfully. That plate could’ve easily fed two people. I was one bite away from needing a forklift.
Since the forecast mentioned rain was rolling in and my hotel didn’t have an on-site restaurant, I decided to grab takeout for dinner.
When I went to the desk to pay, the girl asked me how my meal was, and I told her I was so satisfied by the flavor and the portion size that I had nearly entered a full-blown food coma. We both laughed.
Then I asked if they did takeout. She said yes, so I told her I’d like grilled tuna to go.
She stepped away for a moment, came back, and said, “Sorry… the fish is already in the cabbage.”
Now I stood there, absolutely lost, wondering if this was some kind of local cooking philosophy. It was almost closing time, so I wondered if all unsold fish was cooked into a cabbage dish.
“So the fish is in the cabbage?” I asked again, a little confused.
“Yes. All the fish is in the cabbage.”
I asked for the menu, looking for non-fish items. She pointed to the wall where a copy of the menu was posted. I studied it and thought, Well, if the fish has entered the cabbage dimension, I’ll just try again because the grilled tuna sounds amazing. I’m also one to not take the first No seriously in life for everything, so I pointed to the grilled tuna and asked if I could get that to go.
She said, “Yes, we have everything,” and I added shrimp curry to go. In my head, I was still wondering what the fish in the cabbage was all about.
While waiting, my brain finally caught up with reality.
She thought I was asking her to pack up the tiny leftover remains of my earlier coconut tuna. The “fish in the cabbage” had already been thrown away. Into the garbage. Gone. On a one-way trip to the afterlife.
The realization hit me so hard I almost laughed out loud in the shop. English is not my first language, and this was my first day in Moorea.
In the end, I walked away with fresh grilled tuna, curry shrimp, and a story I will now tell for the rest of my natural life.
Food? Incredible. Portions? Generous. Service? Patient with slow-thinking tourists having cabbage-related epiphanies.
Highly recommend — just be very clear about which fish you’re talking about. And also bring cash. No cards are accepted.