CHINESE CORNER

Chinese Corner was very popular in my town. It was the best tasting Chinese dish outlet, among those I experienced. That was the first time I had a Chinese dish of any kind. After that many Chinese themed outlets opened in the town. But they did not have Gobi Manchurian as tasty as in Chinese Corner. Every time relatives visited the town; they were treated to dishes from Chinese Corner. My cousins still remember the taste, and we still reminisce about it whenever we meet. The texture of the dish, the quality of Cauliflower, the right amount of crispiness, the sauce covering it, still tends to water our mouths. I do not know how Manchurians are made in China, it may be made entirely differently. But, here in the Chinese Corner, it was made to suit our senses.

While standing there on cool nights, waiting for the outlet cook to prepare Gobi Manchurian, my mouth would water uncontrollably. The Chinese Corner was true to its name, it was in a corner of the building. There were two openings to the outlet. One opening had the view of the billing and packing counter. The other opening had a view of the kitchen. I would always choose the second view purely for the sake of seeing the cook prepare his art. I never saw the face of the cook, but he had long hair, which he would have tied using a rubber band. Even to this day, when I see someone with the same hairstyle, the view of the cook cooking would teleport into my view. 

I would always want one box more than that was ordered by my father or sister. The box was made of cardboard and had a green cover. They would have a huge stack of green boxes placed against a wall. I felt they would never run out of green boxes. The dish was put over a layer of Banana plantain leaf, and later covered with another. Whenever my father or sister would come from the market, I would expect them to be carrying green boxes, or would be sorely disappointed.

My obsession with the Chinese corner ended with it closing in a few months. Where would the cook be now? What would they have done to all the leftover green boxes? are some of the questions which still linger in my mind.

   ~END~

(Author Notes: This story was written as part of creative writing workshop assignment, to describe details in detail. About the cook who was working in Chinese Corner, he moved to another outlet, of which I do not remember the name properly, in the same town. But the Gobi Manchurian from the new place, by same cook, didn't have the same magic. Not sure why.)