Beauty in a Bowl

Man, how does one follow up on a blog about leprosy and ingratitude? Crawl back from the edge Bierker.

Since Lina wasn't feeling well on Friday night and neither was I (for I had been sick and had infected her with my durable cold), I decided to take her for her favorite soup at the best Vietnamese restaurant in Lancaster, whose name is so long and Viet/French complicated, that I just call it "The Vietnamese Place Across From Clipper Stadium."

The Asian cuisine in Lancaster, and Asian culture in general, is lacking as a rule. Yet, there is one exception. Due to the generosity of Central Pennsylvania people, churches, and ministries in the 1970's, a hefty number of Vietnamese refugees settled here in the aftermath of the Vietnam War. The Vietnamese culture and food relatively thrive here and it has been a great comfort to my ethnically Taiwanese/Chinese ancestored wife. She is also an full-blooded American woman who loves a good Rib-Eye Steak but her soul food is Asian, particularly noodles and broth and assorted meats and spices. And Vietnamese fits the bill.

Look at the bowl again but watch slobbering on your keyboard. It is so beautiful visually, it was a shame to eat. But, I have no shame, so I gobbled it up ravenously. Lina and I always start with two Spring Rolls apiece and we always order the same dishes. My dish is called Bun. The link does a much better job than I could describing the intricacies of the dish...I would just add that the fresh cilantro is wonderful.

It is either 15 or 17 on the menu; get the one with the sliced pork egg roll in it. Being with Lina has certainly enhanced my awareness and appreciation for many things Asian, but I do have to note that I had eaten this dish elsewhere before meeting her. Twice to be exact, and loved it.

Funny how food can minister to someone. Lina seems to have skimmed across the top of the cold like a smooth stone on a lake, whereas I sunk like a jagged rock. I like to think that her soup had something to do with it. I know she is happy when she walks out complaining how full her tummy is with liquid. God's good gift in a bowl. It was just what the Doctor (me) ordered for a chilly and snowy February evening.



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