1.8
I’m a Hobbit of habit and I revel in routine. For the most part I’ve pattered about pandemic plot lines unscathed — I’ve still got my daily New York Times, crossword, workout. Top off with new habits like more serious cycling touring more of Singapore and new friends, the last 13 months have been a great ride in many miles.
One new habit adopted by my family is a weekly Sunday food distribution at Chinatown, at first to anyone who needed a hot meal, now evolved to bringing lunch and treats to 80 seniors who can’t afford sound nutrition, and have disabilities that make it hard for them to get groceries on their own, especially during this time. We work with a fantastic team of friends and friends of friends, and after we’re done, I’m ravenous for solid sustenance.
And by that I mean hot dogs at Fung Kee (with a Negroni, of course) or Shake N Dog, or maybe I’ll stop by Alex’s Eating House for some of my favorite Cantonese roast meats on my way home. Recently, I’ve taken to wandering over to Maxi Coffee Bar, aptly situated at the bottom of Ann Siang Hill, presumably you may need a fine brew from them before you trod up. But no reason needed, really, to set yourself on a stoop with a cup of Black and the Sunday New York Times. Let yourself be seduced by a sandwich — the kaya toast (don’t be afraid, here’s a fancy version that pulls its weight), the several grilled cheeses. On a Sunday morning, it’s placid in here, the service affably splendid.
Take a moment to let that understatement dip in, because it doesn’t even scratch the foam of just how much sparkle these guys generate. Eight days into Phase 2.Heightened Alert, my natural GPS floated me over to Maxi, and then I remembered: No stoop, no leisurely weekend paper perusal. But yes, they can make me a kimchi grilled cheese and yes, I will sit on the five-foot-way step outside and eat it out of a paper box. (My next stop was a blood donation, so I couldn’t bring it home.)
There’s no dainty way to eat this sandwich, and I’m no damsel in distress. Grasp the supremely-buttered chunk in one hand (to keep other hand free to read the paper) and chomp carefully so if kimchi must dribble down like Steph Curry on the prowl, it collects in the box so you can still scoop into mouth for an epicurean epilogue. The cheese so succulently melted about the kimchi turns the whole thing into a makeshift pimento — at least we have the weather of South Carolina in August to go with it. I’m handling the sandwich like a real woman and minding my own sandwich when on two occasions, I’m brought a cup of ice cold water and extra napkins (they know their kimchi grilled cheese well). From where I sat, I saw people come in and out on coffee runs, and so much gratitude from the Maxi team for this support. They didn’t have to say say it so much — it shows.
I knew what they meant, though. My family business has always been known for above-excellent service, but with Covid-19 economy challenges, we couldn’t be more thankful for regulars who continue to come to us for their eye care, new customers who choose to put their vision in our hands. It’s inspired us to want to do even more, like providing free delivery, including surprise treats with deliveries, offering a complimentary suite of after-care services, and just being a place where they can stop by any time for a chat. It doesn’t feel like work when the heart is warm and the spirits floating somewhere in the orbit of the International Space Station. And this is why small businesses are such a joy to support and be a part of. Go small, and go home.