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  • Archives
  • Monday, May 6

    had dinner with jimmy, my older brother, and my parents at YUKA, a great japanese restaurant. it's funny, i used to think sushi was really disgusting when i was in high school, but somehow jimmy got me to try it, and now i like it quite a lot.

    my favorite is eel, and especially at this place, because they have a great sauce, and the eel is not broiled, but is quite crispy at the edges. they make it exactly to my liking

    while we were having dinner, my parents were sharing about their work.
    so, a little background on my parents:

    my dad used to own a painting/roofing company back in LA. he started that from scratch, and it did pretty well. when my brothers and I all came to the east coast for school, my parents got pretty lonely, so they sold that business and decided to start a whole new thing here.

    so, for a while, my dad learned how to make sushi, teriyaki sauces, stuff like that, and he had a blast. he was thinking about opening one of those small sushi places, but he decided that the competition was too stiff, and plus, he was korean...hahahaha...

    ok, so he decides to buy a deli, and try that out (they wanted to try the road less traveled by korean immigrants...). it's funny, cuz the deli is in a area of queens where most of the patrons are blue collar factory workers or young, poor, 20 somethings, who are quite artsy, and can't afford to live in manhattan. my parents interact with them in quite a strange way, since their english is not that great.

    some of their stories that came up during dinner:
    (let me share one quick thing: my parents call provolone cheese, "problem" cheese, and my brothers and i get a real kick out of it...)

    1) there is a very sketchy looking character who kept hanging out in the entranceway of the store. he wore a leather jacket, had multiple tattoos, and had many piercings. he was quite a large fellow. so, anyway, this guy is hanging out in the entranceway, making quite a ruckus. my dad, seeing that this guy was bad for business, walks up to him, in chef hat and apron and all, and says, "hey, wanna arm wrestle?" (when we heard this, all jimmy and i could do was to stare at each other and bust out laughing) i mean, can you imagine? that is SO random!

    this guy must've been confused as heck, but since he was a big guy, he decided, what the heck, why not? little did he know that my dad was a champion arm wrestler back in his hometown. (my dad, by the way, is quite a strong fellow. even until a year ago, he easily beat any of my brothers and me with his pinkie! can you believe that? i know, i'm not exactly hercules, but i'm not really a skinny dude, either. but he always did it easily. i'm proud to announce, however, that i can beat his pinkie now...) anyway, my dad ROCKs this scary looking dude, and looks at him in the eye. somehow, in the arm wrestle, my dad was able to communicate that he didn't want this dude to hang out in the entrance, and apparently, the guy doesn't anymore. he comes in quietly, gets his stuff, eats, and leaves. all because my dad happens to be pretty darn weird, and aggressively weird. hahaha.

    2) so there is this one guy that calls for a delivery from the store, and apparently, the dude is quite picky, wants his thing this way, that way, etc, etc, and complains a lot. so one day, my dad gets fed up and says, "HEY! I'M NOT YOUR SLAVE!!" can you imagine? i'm just seeing the surprised look on this guy's face.

    customer: hello, i would like a turkey on a roll with...
    dad: HEY! I'M NOT YOUR SLAVE!!!!!

    hahahahahaha!!!! oh my goodness, that's rich....
    i guess my dad hasn't really caught on to the "service" aspect...haha

    on the other hand, my parents treat the poor artsy kids like they are us. my parents will heap extra food on their plates, ask them if they want more, etc.
    the kids, in return, call them mommy and poppy.

    i've visited the store a couple of times, and the atmosphere is really like this. it's a pretty strange community and living that they've carved in queens. it's like an adventure for them. they are learning english, and interacting with all these ppl. what a life, eh? all because they moved 3000+ miles for their three sons. that, my dear friends, is called love and committment.


    yakob at 9:43 PM



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