A QUESTION OF TIMING

It's a matter of choosing the right time of day. From noon until two it's crowded there, then you get a whole bunch of European tourists doing the late lunch thing, which lasts til past four o'clock (teatime), and, after that, us. Meaning not only myself, but also the neighborhood folks, and their little children fresh from school.

As well as a likable wiry old dude who may have gang connections (don't ask how I know), and a frumpy frowny woman who knows I speak Cantonese and rather dislikes me. Two tables over, behind the business woman eating noodles and dealing with her social media.

The two waitresses are welcoming, energetic, and efficient.


苦瓜煎蛋飯和港式奶茶

The senior waitress knows me from a previous restaurant, and automatically brings me both regular tea and the cup of Hong Kong milk tea (港式奶茶 'kong sik naai cha'; "harbour style milk tea") which I will ask for, without, at this point, any need to ask. Some customers use the regular tea to rinse their utensils, but I trust that they've washed those, and there is no particulate matter in the San Francisco air that I need worry about.
This isn't Hong Kong or Manila.

Lunch was a predictable thing. I've had the same dish there a few times. Bitter melon omelette and rice (苦瓜煎蛋飯 'fu gwaa jin daan faan'). I am, I confess, a rather boring old fossil; and will zero in on foods that I've had before, even though at least once a week I try something new, which sometimes pleasantly surprises me.

So much for the food. Nothing to remark.

[Fu gwaa (苦瓜): I really, really like bitter melon.]


Three adorable little girls. What made them adorable was the combination of restrained liveliness, courtesy to their dining companions, and well-behaved hair. The nearest one did her homework while her dad answered his phone, the two more distant ones did something together on a cell-phone while their mother, grandmother, and auntie chatted. When the waitress came to take the orders from that table, all five of them interacted, inquisitively and knowledgeably, about menu items.


See, that's another thing where Cantonese diners are different. Rather than requesting things which aren't on the menu, or going for burger and fries OR sweet'n sour pork all the time, they'll investigate and ask relevant questions.

They are interested, at any age, in what's for dinner.
Passionately interested.

The decisions they make depend on constantly developing circumstances, and aren't final till the orders are actually being placed.

Young people discussing food with their elders.
Adults pointing at specials on the wall.
The waitresses explaining.

It's also practical. If everybody ends up happy, and isn't apathetic or peevish (hello, tourists, I'm talking about you!), things will be smoother and so much less fractious all-around. The Chinese restaurant that caters mostly to Chinese people wants the patrons to waddle out with a smile on their faces.

Probably the only other place where you will experience that is at provincial establishments in England, where they're proud of what they do.

I'm not sure modern style urban restaurants understand the concept.
Order now. Wait. Heap praises. Then tip well, regardless.




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