I have a default restaurant that is 11 minutes from my place. We discovered it three Christmas eves ago. We established a tradition that after a Christmas Eve service we eat Asian food. We were driving back from Greeley with our grandson Zach, headed for PF Chang’s. This was our homage to “A Christmas Story” and we usually had the place to ourselves. We get there and the wait was one hour. Plan B. Hello Google—Zach tells us about one just up the road in a strip mall. We get there and we were the only ones in the place. My radar went up… we rolled the dice. We were greeted by a nice guy who was happy to see us.
After ordering the feast began. The service was warm and the food was extraordinary. We felt like the most important people on this Holiday night. This began our default to “Asian Cuisine and Noodle Bowl” for the question of ‘where shall we eat’? We’ve been there dozens of times since. Every time we are greeted by the same warm style, my special seat (mobility easy) and a variety of food and hospitality second to none.
One evening about a year ago we were the only ones there… sort of like Christmas Eve. Often the place is packed, and the carry—out is constant, just in case you were wondering about its popularity. But that night we had a great conversation with the owner and heard his story. His father was an officer in the South Vietnamese Army. He told the story of being evacuated at age four and nearly dying of starvation as they were put out to sea in the South Pacific. They were found by some fisherman who took them to the Philippines. Eventually they were taken in by the USA in California.
It was a story of resilience and survival… along with some amazing hospitality from our country, where immigrants were once embraced. “My dad dreamed that I would be a doctor. Somehow, I figured out how to build a restaurant. He is very proud of me but still wishes that I would consider medicine”. I smiled and said “Your medicine is the best food around and hospitality second to none”.
This afternoon was a “I am hungry for egg drop soup, and some shrimp rolls”. We walked in to be greeted by the same warm, wonderful smile, and my seat. In a booth to the far end of the restaurant there were three young boys on their tablets. I asked him if those were his boys. “Yep, three of them. The oldest looks and acts just like the young me”. He said it with a Father’s joy.
This paragraph is going to address the heartbreak I feel as I watch my country behave in ways that I find sad, if not embarrassing. I get that the immigration issues are complex and I don’t pretend to have simple solutions. I know what the answer is not… I witness it everyday. The cruelty, racism, lawlessness, xenophobic scapegoating, and lack of compassion is appalling. I rarely use this space for this kind of platform. I used to call myself a “Fourth Generation Colorado Native”. Now I just call myself fortunate.
I love their soup, as it is loaded with peas, carrots and tofu. To find a place to dine where you are treated like family is a gift. Their shrimp chow mein in a noodle bowl lasts me for three days. And their smiles even longer.
Onward and Upward,
Mark
Lyfting Me Up 