“Crab soup dumplings .. mmm” she said as she perused the strange menu. ” Is that really what we are going to choose.. well why not.
after all if you don’t try stuff how are you to know if you will like it.”
They were seated at the small laminated table – plastic flowers stuck haphazardly into the china patterned vase. Could have been tulips once.. but the dust had rather covered the orginial colour and the ‘petals’ such as they seemed were misshapen and unhappy.
But she was hungry and this small nondescript ‘Chinese’ had been the best choice out of a line of eating joints that were huddled together in this small section of the highway.
The waitress came to the table flicking the tea towel over her shoulder as she shuffled across in her slippered feet.. small notepad and a stub of a pencil in the other hand as she came to take the order. “1 crab soup dumplings – a chicken chow mein and some prawn crackers.. oh and a pot of chinese green tea please”. “No” she said perfunctorily .. “no tea.. only black tea”.. “oh .. okay .. then black tea please.”
She shuffled off into the back of the small cafe – behind the high counter with the hot box on it containing fried dim sum rolls and some other unknown quantities of take away fast food.
The woman at the table looked up at her companion and smiled.. he glanced away quickly – to the observer one would think they hardly knew each other. He hunched down into his rumpled jacket – collar turned up – the edges of it frayed and a bit grubby – and turned over the menu card sticky with past customers fingers and examined the other side.. the drinks – and icecream and extras. She sighed – and pulled her phone from her bag – only to realise that here she had no service. But why .. only a few kilometres back there had been a phone tower .. ah well possibly another company and not hers. She tried again to engage him – this time asking – is “Chinese okay .. do you like it? Perhaps we would have been better to go to the Shwarma place next door.” “Nah” he muttered .. “this is fine.. it will do… I am hungry.”
Time passed .. there were only two other diners in the room.. an older man and a woman who it seemed could have been his daughter. They were already eating – the woman playing with her chopsticks without much success but the food on their table looked okay and they were not leaving much on the plate.
And finally from the back the waitress emerged with a tray .. carrying the food to their table. Crab soup dumplings – a large bowl steaming – to be set down on the table and then an oval platter also steaming with the noodles and the bean sprouts scattered across the top. A generous bowl of prawn crackers squeezed in to the last remaining spot on the table and the cutlery and chopsticks plunked next to them in an upright container.
“Please can we have two empty bowls – we will share”.. the woman shuffled back to the kitchen and returned moments later carrying two small empty chinese patterned bowls.
With little expectation of the meal she served the soup into the two bowls – and slipping a chinese porcelain spoon into one of them she handed it to her companion – the steam warning them of the heat of the soup. Tentatively they both took a first spoonful sipping it from the side of the spoon to avoid scalding their tongues – and as the warmth spread through their mouths they were enveloped in aroma and utter surprise. They stared at each other in amazement. Who would have even dreamed of the flavour of that soup. Delicate – yet sublty edged with the taste of crab – a memory of the sea washed through the taste buds, harboured in a broth that was exotic and gave a sense of the far off lands.
Who could have imagined this soup .. in this small and slightly grubby cafe – squashed in between the mexican ‘cantina’ and the Lebanese joint next door.
Now perhaps he would speak with her. “Have you ever had a soup like this before?” she exclaimed. “No” he said between sips of the still steaming broth – “but I thought just perhaps is may be good.. I saw the cook through the door as the waitress entered the kitchen. She is old .. like my mother – and she looked like a village woman – she would know how to cook the dishes of her family.”
Now they examined the ‘prawn crackers’ and saw as well that these were no packet crisps filled with MSG and fried in old oil – they were fluffy crisp and slightly pink – with flecks of real prawn shavings in them.. they crunched in the mouth and left you immediately reaching for another. Ah a prawn cracker made in heaven!
The chow mein.. this one had chunks of chicken hiding under the noodles.. liberally slurped with delicious sauce – a tinge of rice wine – a hint of sesame oil – the sweet tang of soy sauce .. and cut through with fresh and crunchy beansprouts.. none of your brown at the ends drooping last week beansprouts, but white crisp and fresh as the morning – strewn across the top of the perfectly cooked noodles.
Eating became their world.. they had both been hungry and ready to stop from their long drive across country. The food was good – and as the warmth spread through their bodies so the ice between them began to thaw.
She smiled again at him .. relieved that they had not had to endure bad food as well as the difficult road they were travelling together. He began to relax – and then the tea came – no need to rush .. it was poured into small cups, yes black tea – not the light coloured green chinese tea – this one was slightly red in colour – the proper Gongfu black tea of China.
Time to savour this .. time to sit back in the plastic chairs and space to drink this further gift of the small cafe.
She sighed again but this time with satisfaction and relief.. he reached across the table and took her hand – his touch surprised her but she responded by allowing his hand to curl around hers. Her breath caught in her throat and she felt the tears spring to the back of her eyes. How long had it been – how long since she had felt this touch – how many days had she thought to withstand the ice between them – the ice that had been thawed by the crab soup dumplings. The food of the Gods in the cafe at the end of the Universe – and the healing began.