Finding home in unexpected places

There's nothing really special about the Vietnamese restaurant I've just found a few miles from campus, which is why I love it.

It has the typical tacky red and gold decor and the frowning family waiters. They never bother to be particularly warm, and swoop in to do the minimum order, food drop off, and clean up. Sometimes they’ll throw in a curt, “Like your food?” or “Good?” It’s so rare that when it happens, it’s a pleasant surprise that leaves me kind of grateful.

It reminds me of home. My mom doesn’t really show affection for me and my siblings very often, but she shows her love for us with food. There’s no stronger way of showing how much you love someone than offering them a bowl of hot noodles (the hotter the food is, the more you love them). So when my mom suddenly throws out “Like?” as if talking to herself, I get a warm feeling in my stomach.

I’ve started bringing my friends, who are still getting accustomed. They think the service sucks. But they agree the food is delicious and seem to feel a little better when I insist the waiters do care, they just have trouble showing it.