Arête Reed
Google
I was part of a small traffic jam that built on 1st while someone was waiting to turn left on Broadway. And rather than look at my phone, I looked around the block and saw Lucky Noodles. Slightly bustling at the ~7:00 dinner rush, I was pleased to see people smiling, eating, coming, going and I thought, hey what a great date night spot!
So I planned a bike date with my girlfriend, I made reservations (although it didn’t seem necessary when we showed up, big parties don’t be unkind it can fill up quick) and we were very kindly greeted by the owner/host/cook/server (I only saw her and one other woman who was cooking) and within a minute sat at a table and looking over the menu.
The thing that struck and stuck with me most, while taking our orders she asked (and I regrettably forget her name 😣) is it okay if I make it [Pad See Ew] for you how my grandma made it? First of all, lovely that you would ask as if I hadn’t already released all preference by coming to an establishment designed to serve me vs me serve my idea of what I want, and second, what a beautiful connection to a person, place, generation, culture, and ultimately love that I would otherwise have no medium to be connected to. It’s not just food, it’s saying “this is how I was cared for when I was young, this is what kept me alive” and I think that’s really special. Anyway, thank you Lucky Noodles, may your seats be full of happy and healthy people and your tips large, you deserve it!