Ladies, this one is a little different. May I introduce you to celebrity chef Edward Kwon.
This is such an incredible find. This little hole in the wall diner and market you ran into while out shopping. It’s family owned and operated, they are all extremely kind and outgoing. Any question you have, they are willing to answer and help with. They've opened and let you try fun drinks when they didn’t know how to explain the flavor, and given you free samples of treats. In the restaurant area there is fantastic food that you just can’t seem to get enough of. After shopping there multiple times, you’ve begun coming in for take out.
“I’m sorry you've been waiting. Have you been helped? I was in the back cooking.”
“You’re fine. I do have a couple of questions though.” You look up into a new face with handsome, smiling brown eyes.
“Sure, what can I answer for you?” His smile, captures you and is distracting; it takes a minute for you to focus back on the menu.
“Can you tell me is this one hot? What does this one come with?”
“No, Bulgogi isn’t hot and they all come with a small side of rice, kimchi, and egg drop soup.”
“Your egg drop soup is so good. It's different from others I've had, I love it.”
“Thank you," he smiles. "I’ll go make this.”
About 10 minutes later he returns and starts bagging up your order.
“Sorry that took so long, I decided to make new soup. And, I’m going to give you these drinks for $1.50, they’re normally over $2.” He winks over at you, “Just don’t tell my parents, they aren't here tonight.”
You smile back, “Well thank you; I appreciate that. So, you’re the son. I’ve met your parents but have never seen you around.”
“Because I’m usually in the back, cooking.” He takes your card with two hands and slides it through the machine.
“Ah, so while the parents are away, the kids are in charge?” you playfully ask.
He mutters to himself, but loud enough for you to hear... “I’m not a kid.”
You find yourself taken back and embarrassed. Well obviously he’s a man but what could you have called him? Wouldn’t he have been upset by being called a child if you’d said children?
As you take your leave, you begin to wonder; if he’s the cook, what are the chances you’ll see him again? You’ve been in many times but this is the first he’s come out front. Slightly dismayed you head home and decide to look the restaurant up on twitter. You find them and follow them, tweeting about how yummy your meal was.
A few days later, your tweet has been liked by the restaurant and now they follow you. For some dumb reason, this makes you silly happy.
A few more visits go by and there is no sign of the handsome cook. You chalk it up to a good day that someone was nice to you and you had something hot to look at and leave it at that.
On the way home, a friend you’ve been trying to meet for lunch for the past couple of months rings you and asks about lunch for the next day. You convince her to try out your new find and she readily agrees. You’ve never really been inside and stayed to eat before, this should be fun.
After you’re seated, the owner comes through and gives you a hug. This family is really so friendly and great, they make you feel like one of their own. After ordering, the two of you sit and chat about this and that, waiting for your food. Your friend agrees with you and raves about how good the food is. You just smile, gloating in the fact that you’ve found them another customer and that you were right.
As the crowd begins to thin, a familiar shape begins sweeping the kitchen area. As you get up to leave, he comes into the dining area to clear and bus tables. He glances over and you exchange smiles. When you get home you tweet again about how superb the food was with a picture of you and your friend. A few minutes later the restaurant retweets your tweet. You sit back in shock; wow, that never happens. You secretly smile and do a little happy dance.
After more visits to the market, a month later you find yourself eating in the dining area again. Heading to the restroom you find it back by the kitchen. When you open the door to exit, someone is standing by the kitchen entrance waiting.
He gives you a small bow, “[YN], did you eat well?”
It takes you a minute but then you realize he could have gotten your name from your credit card receipt.
You give a small bow back. “Yes, thank you. But I’m at a disadvantage; I don’t know your name.”
He holds his hand out to shake yours, “[HN]. I'm pleased to meet you.”
As you reach to over to take his hand; he encloses yours in his, then turns it over and kisses the top. No one has ever acted like this with you before; you’re positive you’ve changed colors three times and that nothing but baby noises will come from your mouth. His voice brings you out of your stupor.
“We should get to know each other better, wouldn't you agree?”
You get the nerve to look him in the eye and see him smiling at your shyness, waiting for your answer.
You nod, “I’d like that,” you finally manage and barely hold in your giggle.
“Good," he says as he pats your hand before letting go. "I’d like that too.”
As you turn to head back to your seat, he reaches out and grabs your wrist, stopping you.
“And,” you look back expectantly. “Perhaps I will prove to you, that I’m not a kid.”