Independence is home to one of the Midwest’s largest Samoan populations. That’s why, off Highway 291 and 23rd Street in the Tractor Supply parking lot, you can find Cameron Maluia tossing kalua pork, pineapple sausages and turkey tails into Styrofoam to-go boxes from his food truck throughout the week.
Uce Kitchen serves all kinds of Polynesian comforts, including the Hawaiian-style plates more commonly associated with franchised establishments like Hawaiian Bros or Mo’Bettahs. Classically served with a scoop of macaroni salad and white rice, Maluia’s plates come with kalbi short ribs or sticky, garlicky chicken. He welcomes the comparison to Polynesian food, and he welcomes the idea of having more Polynesian restaurants in the area. But if you follow his food truck long enough to order something you’re less familiar with—say, turkey tails or sapasui (Samoan chop suey)—you’ll see why he describes Uce Kitchen as the “Samoan cousin” to those larger Hawaiian plate lunch chains.
Maluia fell into the classic Covid story, he was laid off during the pandemic and needed to pivot, find something else to do. His wife, Anita, who works behind the scenes of Uce (pronounced oo-seh) Kitchen, says that it’s common in Samoan culture for men to do the cooking at family gatherings. With Maluia already experienced in cooking for large groups, he decided to bring his family’s recipes to Independence’s larger Samoan community, first as pop-ups, then as a food truck. As for the truck’s name, “Uce” is Samoan slang for “bro,” derived from uso, meaning “brother.”
Maluia compares his Samoan food to soul food, saying it has the same “oomph” or depth of flavor often associated with it, due mainly to the cooking techniques and seasonings he uses. He tries to change up the menu once a month, but it almost always includes turkey tails, or mulipipi. In Samoan cooking, turkey tails play a role similar to oxtails in Black soul food. Slow-cooked until rich, fatty and tender, they are staple served in a multiple of ways. Other traditional Samoan dishes include the faʻalifu faʻi (bananas cooked in coconut cream) and fai’ai pilikaki (mackerel cooked in coconut cream). Maluia’s sapasui is made with povi masima (think Samoan corned beef), which he travels all the way to San Francisco to source. Because these menu items require more labor, Maluia says cooking Samoan food requires “all hands on deck,” meaning his wife, mom and sister all help.
“I tell my customers my momma and my wife and sister are making [the Samoan food],” says Maluia. “So that’s what you taste. People say, ‘Man, it tastes like my mama made it,’ and I say, ‘’Cause my mama made it.’”…