-^-for posterity-^-

there are two places to go in long xuyen if you want to eat. they’re called ‘lang toi’ and ‘tre xanh’ (my homeland and green bamboo, respectively). the other day the boss of the two restaurants came by my house. he invited me to eat at his restaurant with him.

eating at a restaurant with the owner is a once in a lifetime experience. anything you want is a whistle away. if you want this dish or that dish, simply ask for it. the entire staff is there to serve you. they don’t want to lose their jobs.

he told me that i could come back and cook an american dish if i wished. i was more than happy to. with no ovens, one of the only dishes i could think of was bbq ribs.

i went on the internet to find a good recipe. i bought some of the ingredients (i was forewarned that the staff would help me with any ingredients that were fairly basic) and headed off to the restaurant.

at the restaurant, i was a king. i had five people who where there to do anything i wished. i told one man to chop garlic, another man to cook a piece of pork, another man to chop onions and so on. everyone was working and it was incredible. i didn’t do a thing. we told the people to watch the bbq sauce for about two hours while we sat and chatted. he did everything i told him and stirred it every five minutes.

after two hours, the sauce was ready. a small man in a plaid shirt came out to tell me. he asked me what we should do next.

‘do you have any pork ribs?’

‘yes sir, we do.’ (they’re very respectful)

‘good. chop them up into pieces about this size (i show him my thumb) and grill them for a few minutes.’

‘ok sir.’

(after about 10 minutes)

‘sir, they are finished.’

‘good. now coat them in bbq sauce and grill them again. coat them a second time and grill. serve them to us with french fries and some small bowls of the bbq sauce.’

everything was done exactly as i asked. the cooks worked in the back as customers streamed in. we sat at our table eating everything in sight. it was incredible.

the ribs were good but, for a moment, i felt like a chef. when i was in the seventh grade, i had a science fair project. it was a good project and it was nominated for the county prize. when we went to the county exhibition, i was interviewed on television and was asked what i would like to do with my life. i didn’t exactly know how to respond, and i said i would like to be a chef. i said it, and i believed it. i wanted to live in a kitchen and cook all day. i wanted to tell people what to do and i wanted it done. for one day, i was a chef. for one day, i cooked something with an army of staff and it was glorious. i ate the ribs and sauce dripped from my chin. i ate the ribs and smiled.