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8/7/2019 Gruber Essay 4
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am- 11:00 pm, Sunday: 12:00 noon-
10:00 pm. The menu also verifies that
they accept VISA, MasterCard,
Discover, and American Express credit
cards. A list of their 130 standard
meals, along with thirty-six Lunch
Specials, twenty-four combination
plates, eighteen Chef¶s Specials,
thirteen platter specials, nine House Specials and nine Revolution Diet plates are also
represented on the menu. The food on the Revolution Diet menu is cooked with no salt,
sugar, corn starch, or oil. In authentic home cooking from Asia, meals go light on fat and
oil. The most appetizing dishes typically contain neither a steak nor a chicken breast,
but simple vegetables transformed with spices. This food is cooked with more
vegetables, less meat, and less artery-clogging fat with meals that are quick, simple,
and tasty (Chen).
I take a seat at one of the small, two-person tables by the window. Quickly, I
realize it is too cold to be seated this close to the door and I trade my table for the one
closest to the warm kitchen. Minutes later Jane with her petite figure, sleek black hair
pulled into a pony-tale behind her head, wrapped in a green coat and black pants
emerges from behind the counter with my food. I thank her, she smiles and returns to
the tender warmth of the kitchen.
The employees of China Gormet don¶t mind going the extra mile to make your
visit even more enjoyable. They will modify anything on the menu so that it is exactly
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what you want to eat, and always ask how your family is, how you are enjoying school
or the current winter weather. Sometimes when new customers come in you can sense
that they are uncomfortable with the conversation due to the slight language barrier, but
China Gourmet¶s employees will always repeat themselves with a laugh and a smile.
Although I have done homework while eating my lunch here many times before, I
can¶t help feeling slightly self-conscious as I retrieve a pencil and commence my note
taking. The feeling quickly fades as I hear the sounds of an Asian soap opera budding
through the speakers of the small hand held television set on a wooden table in the
kitchen. Since it is about four o¶clock in the afternoon, an odd time for something to eat,
I am the only one enjoying a hot meal at China Gourmet right now. I take my time
pouring a steaming cup of tea, adding sugar, and picking up an extra napkin before
slowly go back to my table, as to not spill the warm beverage. As I return to my seat and
turn the page of my notebook, I see the chef appear from the kitchen dressed in black
pants and a stained white chef coat emerges and removes a Brisk Ice Tea from the
Coke-a-Cola soda cooler next to my table. He smiles a crooked, tired smile and returns
behind the counter to join his coworker in front of the television set. As I eat, I wonder
about the show they are watching and speculate how difficult it would be to learn to
fluently speak any language other than English.
Soon enough, a Caucasian man, with thick brown hair and a stubbly unshaven
face, who looked to be in his late thirties, in dirt and white paint stain covered blue
jeans, a soiled black Harley Davidson Motorcycle sweatshirt and mud coated work
boots comes through the door, the bell sounding as he walks in. He rubs his hands as if
trying to release the cold air from within them. Jane pulls herself from the television set
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and gives the man a friendly smile. I conclude that he has been here before when Jane
calls him by name, Mike*. He asks for a
large order of Spicy Kung Pao Chicken and
a small order of white rice to go and
converges in small talk with the petite
woman behind the counter as his food is
cooking. She tells him to get a cup of warm
tea, in a soft ordering tone, and he consents without dispute. As his food is wrapped in
an oversized brown paper bag, and stapled shut the man waves to the chef says his
goodbyes and returns to his dirt covered burgundy Ford pickup truck, which is parked
next to my, also messy, Volvo.
Before long, a woman comes in from the cold. She has long brown hair that is
turning gray with age. Clinging to her pale green knit sweater, she retrieves a pair of
reading glasses from her bag as she looks over the menu. The woman, while still
glancing at the menu, asks if she can substitute scallops for chicken in the Chicken and
broccoli Revolution Diet plate. Slightly turning her head away from the counter, Jane
says something in Chinese to the chef and he nods. In turn she smiles and nods to the
customer, the woman then orders a second plate, of which I could not understand what
she said. While waiting for her food the woman, who is most likely in her fifty¶s, sits at
the two-person table adjacent to mine. I apologize for interrupting her, since by now she
has her nose in a Rhode Island Homes magazine that she picked up on her way to the
table, and tell her that I would like to ask her some questions, since I am writing a paper
on this restaurant. I ask her why it is that she has decided to order food here tonight.
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She lowers her magazine to tell me her name, Karen*, and that her husband will be
home from work soon and she ³honestly just did not feel like cooking tonight´, she
laughs and tells me that she never feels like cooking. Recently laid off from her job as a
part time librarian at the local Blanding Library, she tells me that her family does not eat
out much anymore with the price of food and gas constantly rising. She stands to meet
Jane and retrieve her brown paper bag from the edge of the counter, she wishes me
luck with my paper and returns to the bitter weather outside.
I saunter across the restaurant to retrieve another cup of warm tea. The green
Formica counter tops, which match the green titles walls perfectly, seem to have
recently been cleaned. I assume that Jane wiped it down during my conversation with
the recently departed customer. Before returning to my seat I grab a magazine from the
little bookshelf next to the counter at which I ordered my late lunch. Absentmindedly, I
flip through the pages of one of the many real-estate magazines as I swallow my last
mouthful of steamed chicken and mixed vegetables in an amazing, spicy, tangy
Szechwan sauce. I bring my empty plate to the counter and return to my cherry-
finished wood table with my fortune cookie. Realizing that it is almost five-thirty I start to
collect my things when two more customers meander in. I decide to remain seated. The
two women, mother and daughter which is obvious by the resemblance, place their
sparkle encrusted purses at a table and head to the counter. The daughter, probably in
her late teens or early twenties, begins to order when the Asian- American woman cuts
in to finish her thought. The brunette woman, who was wearing blue jeans, black snow
boats, a black leather jacket covering a pink jewel covered Ed Hardy t-shirt laughs and
nods. Her mother smiles, she also has straight light brown hair, yet hers contains a few
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blonde highlights. She is wearing black faded jeans and high heel boats with a black
suede waist long coat with evidently faux-fur around the neck and cuffs. The two part
ways as the mother goes to their designated table with a magazine and the daughter
walk along the counter to a doorway across from where the tea is located and heads
down the small dimly light hallway to the bathroom. The daughter arrives back at the
table to find her mother obviously in a heated discussion through text messages, she is
typing rapidly with an evident scowl on her face. Trying to console her distressed
mother the girl says something with a smile which in turn makes her mother chuckle as
she returns her red cell phone to her purse. Their dinners arrive and they lightheartedly
chat while they enjoy their fully loaded plates. I decide to not disrupt their pleasant
conversation with questions quite yet and continue to list the different types of soda in
the cooler; Coke, Diet Coke, Brisk Ice Tea, Minute Maid Lemonade and Apple Juice,
Sprite, and Ginger ale.
As I let the women finish their conversation a young couple came through the
door. Him, holding his high school football jacket in his left hand as if it is his most
valued possession and her holding his right hand in the same manner. They reach the
counter and order their meals. He places his green and yellow jacket, the colors of the
town¶s high school, securely on the back of a chair and struts over to get some tea for
himself and his date. They hold hands across the table lovingly and when she excuses
herself to use the bathroom he slouches down in his chair and checks the messages on
his cell phone. He smirks and returns the phone cautiously to the pocket of his blue
jeans. He is wearing a short sleeve green t-shirt with a falcon on the front. Falcons are
the local high schools mascot and I come to the conclusion that this student has some
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serious school pride. When the girl returns, apparently from fixing her make-up, I ask
them why they are here tonight. The girl eagerly speaks out before her date even has a
chance to blink. In a bubbly voice she says that the food is great and that because it is
so cheap they can still go to the movies after dinner even though they don¶t work many
hours. At this point the date chimes in by saying that due to the large portions served
here, they ³won¶t need to spend a fortune on popcorn and snacks at the movies later
tonight.´ After thanking them, I return to my table just in time to see the mother-
daughter pair snacking on their fortune cookies. I take this opportunity to talk to them.
The daughter tells me that she is in college and currently working full time, and that
China Gourmet is in between where she works and where her mother works so it is a
perfect place to meet for a quiet, after work dinner. The mother then tells me that she
has two other children at home and that the plates are large enough and cheap enough,
that she can bring one home for her two pre-teen daughters to share. The woman said
goodnight and goodbye, little did they know that I would see them here again during
another day of observations.
Before long another man, this one
in his early twenties, staggers through the
door and orders a L18. With a glance at
the menu I picked up earlier I was able to
see that L18 is a sesame chicken lunch
plate, for which he was charged an extra
dollar for since it was past three o¶clock.
After ordering the man walks to a table, removes his jacket and sits down with a sigh.
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While Jane returns to the back of the kitchen to report the latest order, I nonchalantly
take a seat at the table next to the evidently distressed young man. His cell phone
vibrates loudly against the table and makes him jump, he answers and tells the caller
that he has had no luck so far but he is going to continue trying. He argues with the
person on the other line that he has no interest in acquiring more student loans and will
have to keep looking till he finds a second job. Hanging up the man puts his head in his
hands and sighs again. Jane brings his order out to him and gives an almost
unnoticeable pout when she looks at the evidently unhappy customer.
The awkwardness of the scene is almost too much, so I decide that now is as
good a time as any to strike up a conversation. I clear my throat, in hopes of getting the
man¶s attention, and he looks up sheepishly. Instantly turning red, now that he has
noticed Jane and I had heard his conversation and were staring at him with pity. To
avoid an embarrassing situation I quickly ask him what kind of work he is looking for.
Letting his shoulders drop he tells us that he would take any job and he recounts a
conversation between himself and a financial aid advisor at his school. It turns out that
he was attending classes at the local community college when his financial aid was cut,
requiring him to either take out a bigger loan for the upcoming year or get a second job
in hopes of being able to pay out of pocket for the difference. He tells us how he has
been driving up and down Route 44, which goes through about five different towns, all
afternoon looking for ³Now Hiring´ signs. The man is tall with a head of thick brown hair
and big green eyes. He has a strong jaw, broad shoulders, and is wearing jeans and an
American Eagle t-shirt. I try to reassure him with the fact that summer is around the
corner and many places will be hiring new employees soon. Telling him about a few
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local places that usually acquire summer help he begins to perk up. Our conversation
continues while we eat our lunch and he tells me that this is his third or fourth time
eating lunch here and that he found it when he went to the neighboring restaurant,
Rehoboth House of Pizza, with a friend from high school. He asks me why I return here
so often and agrees that the large portions and low prices are a reason to return.
While the man, whose name I never learned, got up to pay I noticed a young girl,
roughly fifteen years old, outside sitting against the hood of a car talking on her cell
phone. Due to the open windows I was able to overhear her laughter. She discussed
with a friend her plans for the upcoming school dance, which thanks to my younger
sister I knew was that Friday night. Complaining about how her mom would not let me
spend the night at a friend¶s house all because they were going out for lunch for her
grandfathers birthday the next day. Unmistakably her friend asked about her outfit for
the evening and the girl went into great detail about the cut, color, and cuteness of her
dress. Due to the description, I was able guess that classiness was not high up on the
girls list of requirements. Soon I also learned that the five inch high heels her mother
had forbid her to buy at the mall, calling them ³stripper heels´, were now safely hidden in
the back of her locker. Laughing to myself, I noticed her mom heading towards the car
with a stack of pizza boxes the girl quickly said goodbye and hung up her phone. Rolling
her eyes at her mother¶s request for her to hold the boxes, the girl took them but only
after turning her iPod back on at full blast.
The restaurant is empty again and I bring my empty tea cup to the trash. As I go
to the counter to pay, Jane asks me where my mother was today and smiled from ear to
ear when I told her that this week my mother was vacationing. Immediately she told me
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how nice it must be to be able to vacation right now, and how she wished she had the
time to go someplace where there were no lingering snow. As we complain about the
recent snowfall, Jane looks at the clock and giving me a mothering stare asks why I am
at work. I tell her about my schedule and that I had morning classes today and
thankfully no work this afternoon. Aware of the fact that my notebook is about to turn in
her direction, Jane becomes standoffish. I hand her my $6.06, about $5.00 for a lunch
plate and an extra dollar since it was past three, and turn to grab my pencil. By the time
I turn back around she has scurried off into the depths of the kitchen to wash a few
plates that are occupying the sink. I decide to wait, hoping she would come back soon.
Upon her return, I ask if she would mind talking to me for a moment about the
restaurant. She agrees warily and leans against the counter. As our conversation
continues she becomes, once again, more outgoing again. Telling me how her
husband, the tired middle-aged chef, opened this restaurant a little over three years ago
and that she has only been working there for about six months. This was a shock to me
because I cannot remember a time when Jane¶s face was not smiling back from behind
the counter. Her husband has been working in Asian cuisine for many years but she
has no experience in preparing food inside a restaurant. Curiously, I ask Jane how they
are able to charge such a small amount for the large portions of food they serve. She
shrugs with her usual smile and says ³we just do.´ As I continue to wonder about the
fiscal aspect of the restaurant I soon realize that Jane is unaware of anything having to
do with the financial status of China Gourmet. She simply shrugs off my questions and
replies that her husband is in charge of the money. I begin to wonder if Jane being
oblivious of the restaurants¶ finances has anything to do with their culture. Assuming
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that it does, and not wanting to insult the only employee that ever has the time to talk to
me, I decide to hold off on any further questions concerning money.
The telephone rings and Jane scribbles down a takeout order then heads to the
back to inform the chef. I notice that she just shouts
the order; this is probably why I had never known
that they were married. As she does this I look out
the front window and see the same light blue Honda
Odyssey that is constantly parked outside the
restaurant and upon her return I ask Jane if it
belongs to her. She nods and tells me that her
husband and her drive to work together in the morning. Noticing, for the first time, the
New York license plate on the vehicle I begin to ask her if she use to live there but she
cut me off sharply. Jane tells me that the rest of her family is still back in New York and
that her husband moved to Massachusetts four years ago to open a restaurant and she
joined him once the restaurant was stable. After pausing to jot down my notes, my
attention returned to Jane only to see her gazing longingly out the window towards her
car with a wounded expression on her face.
Not wanting to push at an evidently painful topic I turned my questioning back
towards the restaurants customers, hoping that this topic is safe. Jane tells me that she
has many returning customers, but only a handful of them order the same meal every
time like I do. Jane turns her attention to the waiting customer who just came in and I
looking behind her into the kitchen. In the kitchen I notice a large package of Ramen
Shrimp flavored noodles on top of a full length shelve stocked in full with all sorts of
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canned goods. I assume that this is what the employees eat for dinner if they are too
tired to make a full meal for themselves. I also see Hunts Tomato paste, Dole pre-cubed
pineapple chunks, cans of those little baby corns, as well as a whole shelf stacked with
nothing but folded paper menus and the little Styrofoam cups that they leave out on the
counter for people to drink tea out of. On the floor next to the wire shelves I notice two
large brown cardboard boxes filled with pre
packaged fortune cookies. Seeing my stare
Jane leans over and grabs me a cookie while
tossing one into a plastic bag of a takeout order
that had been recently called in. She tells me
that they order the cookies and that they are
shipped once every other week by the box. We begin to discuss an old Asian-American
woman making fortune cookies that I saw as a child while on a vacation. Jane laughs
when I told her that the answer the woman gave to each of my grandfather¶s questions
was ³Fortune cookies are five dollars.´
The bells atop the door ring just as I turn to casually check the time on my watch,
worrying that I might be late to pick my sister up from work. As the customer reaches
the counter and begins to order, I wave a silent goodbye to Jane. She smiles at me as I
walk out the door, and I smile back having a much better view on what it is like to work
in China Gourmet.
After many observations I realized that there is a simple similarity between the
customers at China Gourmet. Everyone is trying to get the most for their dollar. With the
price of gas and food on the rise people are making an effort to find a way to feed their
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families a healthy meal, for the same prices you would see at a fast-food drive through.
Today, many are struggling to put food on the table. Such as Mike, the blue collar
construction worker, or Karen, who had recently been laid off. With the help of China
Gourmet, citizens located near Rehoboth, Massachusetts are able to provide an
affordable and healthy meal for their families.
*- All names have been changed to protect the identity of the customers.
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