In many asian cultures it is customary to call people your parents age or in a position of authority auntie or uncle. This holds true at the Asian Bistro I work at. We have Sushi Uncle and Kitchen Uncle. Sushi Uncle is a mustachioed old man who moves with little wasted effort and ultra fine precision when making sushi and I often stand behind the bar watching him create beautiful food that he obviously takes pride in. Once he was in the kitchen and accidentally nudged a plate of dessert I had prepped. The maraschino cherry went rolling to the other side of the plate leaving a trail of cherry syrup behind and messing up my flawless presentation. He then peered around in both directions before using his chopsticks to place the cherry back where it belonged. He looked again to see if anyone had caught him and when he say me looking on he burst in to laughter and put his hand up as if to say “okay okay you caught me.” It’s the kind of playful attitude he displays all the time when offering up bites of left over maki or a slice of fish right off of the blade of his knife.
Kitchen Uncle is a whole other beast. His face is sagging like a mean mean bull dog and permanently scowling. His voice is always booming and cutting through the air like a dull knife through bone. His eyes release photons of contempt which the staff desperately try to evade at all cost. Never does he sound pleasant or happy with anyone or anything, even if he is just asking you “Veggie dumpling or Pork Dumpling?” As far as I can tell he’s saying “I’m going to cut you up with this cleaver and make dumplings out of YOU dipshit!” In fact I’m sure that’s what he’s thinking. Having to tell him something needs to be remade is a suicide mission. Sometimes the look on his face is so incredibly affected you’d think having to make the pad thai again with no “shrimps” causes him physical harm. When he leaves I always make it a point to say goodnight with a smile on my face hoping that he won’t cut the corners of my mouth with the aforementioned cleaver. When he’s gone the rest of the kitchen staff actually talks to us servers and seems to enjoy themselves and even though he can speak Chinese I often wonder if they even understand him when he’s barking at the walls. I guess Sushi Uncle and Kitchen Uncle are kind of the yin and yang of the restaurant. Wait no scratch that because in that philosophy both the yin and yang have redeeming traits. Wow, that’s too bad, it would have been a poetic way to end this post, instead I guess I just work with an asshole chef.
To be continued...
-Raw
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