La versión en español está después de la versión en inglés.
San Geraldo and I had lunch at our favorite nearby Chinese restaurant. We usually order takeaway from there (and always the same to make it easy). When Helen answers the phone, she recognizes San Geraldo’s phone number and says, “Hi, Jerry! Two or one?” This time we sat down inside and had a more varied meal. We shared Peking duck, chicken with mushrooms, sizzling beef. For dessert, SG had un-Chinese tiramisu and I had un-Chinese flan. I’m not a fan of Mexican flan. I love Spanish flan. The restaurant is called Restaurante Chino Asia. Catchy, don’t you think? Most people don’t know what to call it so they say just it’s the one on the plaza. The exterior is unusual for the neighborhood.
Jade Pagoda was a restaurant across the street from our building when I was growing up in Brooklyn after we moved there in 1964. It was surprisingly good (or maybe not surprisingly; good Chinese restaurants are common in the City of New York) and we were there often. The waiters knew us well and a couple of them had a major crush on my sister Dale. We loved the place so much, my parents even hosted Dale’s Sweet 16 party there. Do you have Sweet 16 parties where you’re from? I think they’re the middle class replacement for debutante balls.
My mother liked to comment that our neighbors went out for dinner once a week, on Sundays, to Jade Pagoda. She thought that was gauche. We went out to eat whenever we wanted and not just to the Jade Pagoda. Weren’t we grand?
San Geraldo and I moved to Connecticut from Washington DC in 1986. SG was there a few weeks before me while I finished up my work at US News & World Report. My parents drove up to visit him. He had just begun his job at Yale University and thought they’d enjoy and be impressed by a lunch at Yale’s private club, Mory’s, which was just across the street from his office in Sterling Memorial Library. My parents and The Kid Brother were duly impressed. Until the bill came. San Geraldo had left his wallet in his office. My father laughed and picked up the tab, refusing to take money once back in the office.
Once I got to Connecticut, we drove to Brooklyn for the weekend. Since my father was not feeling well, we said we would cross the street and bring lunch from Jade Pagoda. The Kid Brother went with us. As we crossed, SG asked me if I had any cash. I said confidently, “No, but I have credit cards.” “Are you sure they accept plastic?” he asked. “Of course they do,” I replied.
When we tried to place our order at the counter, however, we learned they did not in fact accept credit cards and they wouldn’t place the order without being paid in full. I said, “Chuck, run upstairs please and tell Dad we need $20.” The Kid Brother proudly ran to our rescue. He returned quickly with the cash. We placed the order and were back upstairs in no time.
When we returned, my father was sitting on the sofa in the foyer. He smiled with that New York smart-ass smile of his and in that New York smart-ass, macho accent, he said, “Jerry. The next time you want to treat me to lunch, do me a favor. Don’t! It costs me too much money.”
San Geraldo y yo almorzamos en nuestro restaurante chino cercano favorito. Solemos pedir comida para llevar allí (y siempre lo mismo para que sea más fácil). Cuando Helen contesta el teléfono, reconoce el número de teléfono de San Geraldo y dice: “¡Hola, Jerry! ¿Dos o uno?” Esta vez nos sentamos adentro y comimos más variado. Compartimos pato pekinés, pollo con champiñones y ternera asada. De postre, SG pidió tiramisú no chino y yo flan no chino. No soy fanático del flan mexicano. Me encanta el flan español. El restaurante se llama Restaurante Chino Asia. Pegadizo, ¿no crees? La mayoría de la gente no sabe cómo llamarlo y dicen que es el de la plaza. El exterior es inusual para el barrio.
Jade Pagoda era un restaurante frente a nuestro edificio cuando yo era niño en Brooklyn después de que nos mudamos allí en 1964. Era sorprendentemente bueno (o tal vez no sorprendente; los buenos restaurantes chinos son comunes en la ciudad de Nueva York) y estábamos a menudo. Los camareros nos conocían bien y un par de ellos estaban muy enamorados de mi hermana Dale. Nos encantó tanto el lugar que mis padres incluso organizaron allí la fiesta Sweet Sixteen de Dale. ¿Tienes fiestas Sweet 16 en tu lugar de origen? Creo que son el sustituto de clase media de los bailes de debutantes.
A mi madre le gustaba comentar que nuestros vecinos salían a cenar una vez por semana, los domingos, a Jade Pagoda. Ella pensó que eso era una torpeza. Salíamos a comer cuando queríamos y no sólo a Jade Pagoda. ¿No éramos grandiosos?
San Geraldo y yo nos mudamos a Connecticut desde Washington DC en 1986. SG estuvo allí unas semanas antes que yo mientras yo terminaba mi trabajo en US News & World Report. Mis padres vinieron a visitarlo. Acababa de comenzar su trabajo en la Universidad de Yale y pensó que disfrutarían y quedarían impresionados con un almuerzo en el club privado de Yale, Morey’s, que estaba justo enfrente de su oficina en la Biblioteca Sterling Memorial. Mis padres y El Hermanito quedaron debidamente impresionados hasta que llegó la factura. San Geraldo había dejado su billetera en su oficina. Mi padre se rió y pagó la cuenta, negándose a aceptar dinero una vez que regresó a la oficina.
Una vez que llegué a Connecticut, condujimos hasta allí durante el fin de semana. Como mi padre no se encontraba bien, dijimos que cruzaríamos la calle y traeríamos el almuerzo del Jade Pagoda. El Hermanito cruzó la calle con nosotros. Mientras cruzábamos, SG me preguntó si tenía dinero en efectivo. Le dije: “No, pero tengo tarjetas de crédito. Ningún problema.” “¿Estás seguro de que aceptan plástico?” preguntó. “Por supuesto que sí”, respondí.
Sin embargo, cuando intentamos hacer nuestro pedido en el mostrador, supimos que en realidad no aceptaban tarjetas de crédito y que no harían el pedido sin que se pagara en su totalidad. Le dije: “Chuck, sube, por favor, y dile a papá que necesitamos 20 dólares”. El Hermanito corrió orgulloso a nuestro rescate. Regresó rápidamente con el dinero en efectivo. Hicimos el pedido y volvimos arriba en poco tiempo.
Cuando regresamos, mi padre estaba sentado en el sofá del vestíbulo. Sonrió con esa sonrisa suya de sabelotodo neoyorquino y con ese acento machista y sabelotodo de Nueva York, dijo: “Jerry. La próxima vez que quieras invitarme a almorzar, hazme un favor. ¡No lo hagas! Me cuesta demasiado dinero”.
Hahahaha, great story about SG taking your parents and KB for lunch! I bet they never let him forget it!
I love a good Asian restaurant too and have found a few of them over the years. Yum!
Debra:
It did make for a great story. And they did enjoy Mory’s. International cuisine in Seville was mostly not very good (but that may have changed over the past 11 years). Here, thanks to tourism and the international population, the restaurants are surprisingly good.
Oh yes. So much better to be grand than gauche. My mother used to judge people on the weirdest things like whether they could tell “real” cut glass from the fake stuff. And here I am drinking out of a pint canning jar.
Your Chinese restaurant looks great! I didn’t have Chinese food until I was about thirteen. Central Florida wasn’t exactly known for haute cuisine at that time. Pizza was exotic. We went crazy when we got a Taco Bell. But I went to a Future Homemakers of America conference in the big city of Jacksonville and our Home Ec teacher took us out to a hole-in-the-wall Chinese place. It was mind-altering and I loved it. Too bad they didn’t have flan. That really would have changed my life entirely.
Ms. Moon
Ms. Moon:
Flan and tiramisu are so strange (for me) to see at a Chinese restaurant. But you have to remember your audience I suppose. For dessert, Jade Pagoda had chocolate, vanilla, or pistachio (green, of course) ice cream, or a dish of cubed pineapple.
That whole meal sounds amazing! I love Chinese Takeaway. But all of this golden opportunity pass, and I will not comment on the last picture.
Mistress Borghese:
Oh, now I’m curious about your thoughts on the final photo!
The private University faculty clubs can be fun, J had a membership, and I was able to use it.
David:
I used to grab on to SG’s coattails on every campus.
That flan looks wonderful. I know you’ve told me before, but what makes the Spanish version different? I’ve made Mexican flan before.
Kelly:
The major difference is that Mexican flan recipes call for whole eggs while Spanish recipes call for only the yolks. Spanish flan is much firmer, which I like and the eggs and other things change the flavor. There are good recipes online. Give it a try and see what you think… unless you’re like me (which I know you’re not) and the only way to try a recipe is to order it in a restaurant!
Funny cashless stories! Yes there are small businesses that work with cash, still are where I live, usually tradesmen, cash or check.
You seem to have a thing for Chinese food. I don’t, maybe never exposed to it young. Indian now, different story!
Boud:
Anonymous isn’t always a woman. LOL. Our last time in Norway, we were surprised at how many business did not accept cash at all. I do love Chinese food, but I love others, as well. This is just the closest place to us. We’re still trying to find our favorite Indian place in town. The Costa del Sol has this odd thing of combining Indian, Italian, and Mexican in one restaurant (oh, and steak house and English breakfast). It gives me no confidence that anything is authentic or freshly prepared (and that’s been our experience). We did find one Indian place with good, fresh food, but the waiters (all of them) were unbelievably creepy. I don’t know where they found them, but they clearly liked a personality type that we did not.
That was Boud! Anonymous was a woman, again!
Ha! Hilarious stories 🙂
And, yummy looking food!
Judy C:
Fun memories.
Oh, now you’ve got me started – craving for a decent Chinese meal! Along the road from my old office (closed now) was a fab restaurant and takeaway that I used to frequent until it stopped opening at lunchtimes. We went back for an evening meal there last year, and I loved it! Unfortunately we live too far away for home delivery… Jx
PS A flan has a pastry base, doesn’t it? That looks more like a crème caramel. With a nipple.
Jon:
I don’t know of flan having a pastry base. Flan and creme caramel are hard to tell apart.
With all the green chile and Mexican and New Mexican cuisine here, I sometimes just have to have Chinese or Asian for a change when we go out. I’ve never been a fan of Mex/NewMex food.
Frank D:
You sure are living in the wrong place for your taste in cuisine. That’s the pits!
Love your Dad waiting by the door to deliver his punchline!
Bob:
It really was perfect.
Let me get this out of the way. I don’t like flan. I don’t even like saying the word. It sounds like some part of female genitalia (not the good parts). Okay, I’m 68 and this is as mature as I’m going to get. I fear for when I turn 69. Yippee!
Scoot, I think I would’ve really liked your father. Enjoyed this post so much.
Deedles:
I would encourage you to fly here and try Spanish flan. I hated flan until I had the Spanish version. But, I don’t like the word either. Everyone liked my father. (Too bad about the years of abuse.)
Fly for flan? Scoot, are you nuts?! Not even for the fashion, honey!
Yeah, abuse can throw a monkey wrench into the whole works. As I get closer to my death bed (or regular bed) I’m starting to remember some good things about my abusive mother. I got my sense of humor from her also my love of crosswords, word games and boardgames. She was nice to outsiders, but a narcissistic asshole to her husband and children. We play the cards we’re dealt to the best of our ability, huh? Cue Kenny Rogers.
Great story about your father! I get the sense your parents really did like San Geraldo.
Kirk:
My parents adored him.
That place and the dishes look very pretty.
I’m glad you and SG keep eating well, Mitchell. I wish I could join you for a meal. Well, dessert. That would be my meal.
Hugs.
Anon:
Lots of great dessert choices here.
Sounds like your father had a wicked good sense of humour!
I’ve always had a soft spot for Asian restaurants and three of the best were in Winnipeg during the 1980’s: Northern Pearl, Tokyo Joe’s and The Shanghai. The Shanghai had great food and the surliest Chinese waiters! They all wore white serving jackets, black trousers and little round enamel numbered badges on their chest pockets — no names. One time, I was resting my forearms on the table while waiting for our order to arrive and the waiter who brought the first platter picked up a spoon and rapped it sharply on my arm before setting down the food! We left him a good tip anyway, LOL!
Tundra Bunny:
My father was funny and could be quite charming. Not so often with me, unfortunately. Hilarious about that Mr. Manners waiter. That reminds me of the matrons in the old New York movie theatres when I was kid. We got slapped on the back of the head if we were slouching in our seats.
Ha ha your father ! 😉
bodhisattvaintraining:
My father knew how to deliver.
I loved reading that story about SG and your dad. Your words created a definite vision in my mind of what everything looked like. I never had Asian cuisine until I went to college. There were no Asian restaurants where I grew up, and my mother definitely didn’t do any cooking like that!
Michael:
I didn’t appreciate how privileged we were living in the City of New York (if we took advantage of it). Everything was available to us. I was shocked by my first visit to South Dakota in 1982. There was an eye-talian restaurant.
It is amazing how different places in the country are.
I just read the slate outside the restaurant door. In particular, “abierto todos dias” which, I presume, means “Open Every Day.” In France, the sign would say, “Open every day, except Sunday afternoons and Mondays. And sometimes Wednesday.”
Walt the Fourth:
Here, shops and restaurants don’t bother with that level of detail. Usually one has to guess.
Ha! That’s a great story. “Jade Pagoda” is a very retro name — for a very retro (but not at the time) restaurant. I wonder if it’s still there?!
Steve:
Jade Pagoda closed a long time ago. A greasy spoon Chinese restaurant went in its place. Now, it’s all been replaced by a new shopping and parking complex. Progress.
When I first holidayed in Spain some 40 years ago, the only desserts on the menu in ANY restaurant were “Flan o Naranja”.
Margaret:
I can’t imagine what it was like then. Things have changed so much even in the 13 years we’ve lived here.