It's 5pm, I'm a bad mood. I've been walking around the neighborhood for two hours in the snow, searching for a gift for my Lily. I haven't eaten yet all day, so I feel slightly lightheaded with a dull headache. I'm cold, alone, tired, and starving. Thankfully, I arrive at a my favorite hole-in-the-wall Thai joint.
I open the door, and a waft of curry hits my nostrils and awakens me. I stomp the snow off my boots and walk into the tiny store. All the busy eaters stop eating and glance my way. The cold air is sucking the warmth from the tiny space, I realize this a bit late and close the door quickly. Just six tables, none open. The warmth and aromas coming from the kitchen once again fill the room as I stand patiently in line.
As I wait, I peer into the open kitchen. I take comfort that the cooks are older Thai ladies, but don't know why I care. I suppose my soul needs more than nourishment today - I could use a well-cooked meal that a mother would make for her kids. Something simple, tasty, no fuss.
Finally, it's my turn to order. "Large roast duck with yellow curry, brown rice." $9.50, and just as I pay, a table gets up to leave. It's right next to where the door opens, but I don't care. My legs are aching. I take my jacket off and sit. The door opens, another customer. A gust of cold winter air hits my face. I put my jacket back on, squeeze the drawstring on my hood, and snuggle into my seat.
The food is ready in just a few minutes. The cashier brings it out to me and doesn't say a word. A giant plate, with lots of roast duck and a colorful array of vegetables - green peppers, orange carrots, yellow pineapple, white onions, red chilis. At first glance, I think to myself there is no way I will be able to finish it. Then I remember how hungry I am, and dig in.
The spice from the curry warms me up, the sweet from the pineapple gives me a zing. I savor every piece of fatty duck, the vegetables make me feel good about myself. Gradually, my mood changes. Cold becomes warm, hunger is satiated. My feet ache less, a dull headache fades. I glance around the tables, see others enjoying their meals. I eat alone, but I don't feel lonely. Suddenly I realize the plate is done, licked clean.
I exit just 20 minutes after I had arrived, satiated, happy. The cold air feels pleasant now. I double back to the jewelery store I visited earlier and splurge on some nice earrings for my Lily. She loves them.
This meal felt better than any other meal in recent memory. It was simple, affordable, nourishing, and delicious. Exactly what I hope to provide myself someday at a place of my own.
http://www.roddee.net/
I open the door, and a waft of curry hits my nostrils and awakens me. I stomp the snow off my boots and walk into the tiny store. All the busy eaters stop eating and glance my way. The cold air is sucking the warmth from the tiny space, I realize this a bit late and close the door quickly. Just six tables, none open. The warmth and aromas coming from the kitchen once again fill the room as I stand patiently in line.
As I wait, I peer into the open kitchen. I take comfort that the cooks are older Thai ladies, but don't know why I care. I suppose my soul needs more than nourishment today - I could use a well-cooked meal that a mother would make for her kids. Something simple, tasty, no fuss.
Finally, it's my turn to order. "Large roast duck with yellow curry, brown rice." $9.50, and just as I pay, a table gets up to leave. It's right next to where the door opens, but I don't care. My legs are aching. I take my jacket off and sit. The door opens, another customer. A gust of cold winter air hits my face. I put my jacket back on, squeeze the drawstring on my hood, and snuggle into my seat.
The food is ready in just a few minutes. The cashier brings it out to me and doesn't say a word. A giant plate, with lots of roast duck and a colorful array of vegetables - green peppers, orange carrots, yellow pineapple, white onions, red chilis. At first glance, I think to myself there is no way I will be able to finish it. Then I remember how hungry I am, and dig in.
The spice from the curry warms me up, the sweet from the pineapple gives me a zing. I savor every piece of fatty duck, the vegetables make me feel good about myself. Gradually, my mood changes. Cold becomes warm, hunger is satiated. My feet ache less, a dull headache fades. I glance around the tables, see others enjoying their meals. I eat alone, but I don't feel lonely. Suddenly I realize the plate is done, licked clean.
I exit just 20 minutes after I had arrived, satiated, happy. The cold air feels pleasant now. I double back to the jewelery store I visited earlier and splurge on some nice earrings for my Lily. She loves them.
This meal felt better than any other meal in recent memory. It was simple, affordable, nourishing, and delicious. Exactly what I hope to provide myself someday at a place of my own.
http://www.roddee.net/
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