At the intersection of Highway 237 and Highway 18 in the dusty and remote town of Lucerne Valley, there stands a one story, red shingled, three roomed restaurant named, "China House". At first glance, this restaurant isn't anything special, the token chinese food joint in a small town, but upon entering the red front door, a small jungle announcing your arrival, you're greeted with the friendly invitation to sit anywhere you'd like and a steamy cup of delicious tea.
Robby and I had previously spent the day snowboarding in Big Bear, having departed the slopes as the snow blended into icy mush while the sun dipped lower on the horizon. Usually we would take the powdered lined Highway 333 down the mountain to the 10, but due to winter storms, our normal route was diverted to Victorville via Lucerne Valley. Instead of driving alongside snow-covered trees and log cabins, we were treated to beautiful vistas of golden hillsides inlaid with numerous earthy tones as we wound down the switchbacks, ending at the cross-intersections of the 18 and 237.
China House stood silently, yet welcoming, with the assumption of warmth and a fulfilling meal awaiting us inside. Robby and I checked the cross street before pulling into one of the two open parking spots. We noticed the "A" sign sitting in the side window as we opened the front door. The husband half of the ownership team seated us in a booth along the far wall. Behind Robby, a father/son workman group were having their lunch break, while a birthday party between two 40 somethings women and an older couple were directly to the left of us. The wife of China House's owner brought us tea and wrote down our order. While defrosting from the snow, we relaxed.
Shortly after we arrived, a group of Mexican workers sat down. It was slightly surprising and envious (at least on my part) that the owner spoke fluent Spanish, as well as English (when talking with us) and Chinese with his wife and the rest of the staff. I'm always jealous of people who can master advance English vocabulary, but to understand and communicate in numerous languages, what an amazing skill to possess.
As our food was placed in front of us, the husband owner looks from Robby to me and say, "You two twins?" Robby and I looked at each other for a fraction of a second, simultaneously deciding to tell the truth (sometimes we like to be devilish and tell people we're not related because we feel it's obvious and people shouldn't ask stupid questions), "Yes." "Oh, those two," pointing at the 40 somethings women to the left of us, "they twins as well. Celebrating their birthday today." I stopped eating to study the people at the table. The older couple, finally registering in my mind as the twin's parents while the 40 somethings women, once I looked at their faces (not skimmed over them), looked almost as similar as Robby and my faces are. Not sure how I missed it the first time around.
"Where you from?" our new friend asked, he was still standing in front of our table. We told him we were headed to LA, but had come from Big Bear, had been snowboarding for the better part of the day. This lead to a lovely conversation of driving times to San Gabriel from Lucerne Valley and then to LA. The owner often liked to visit San Gabriel because of all the Asian markets, kind of the same reason Robby and I do. After a bit, we were left to eat our lunch in relative quiet. The owner periodically stopping by to refill our teas and the chinese equivalent of bread for the table, fired wonton sticks.
20 minutes into us arriving, the Father/son team paid their check and stood to leave. "How's the snow in Big Bear," the father asks, stopping at our table; his son standing to the back, his cheeks reddening. Apparently their are non subtle ease droppers left in the world. "It wasn't bad, a little slushy, but at least the slopes were mostly void of people," I respond. It was a Monday. "Yea, it was pack this last weekend." We chatted for a bit on the snow conditions and the best days to ski without dealing with mass human traffic on the slopes before we were once again left to eat our meal.
"Which one of you is driving?" Husband was at our side again. "Um, her," Robby points to me. "Good, I bring you a cup of tea to go." He leaves us slightly bewildered. We eventually figure out that the tea is caffeinated, therefore the owner was trying to imply it was a long drive home (about 2 hours) and he didn't want the driver of us to fall asleep. It was one of the sweetest things anyone's ever done for us, especially when China House didn't have any to go cups and we were presented with a rather large to go soup container filled with steamy tea.
40 minutes after entering China House, we were leaving with full stomachs, a giant cup of tea to add to the previous three potfuls we'd consumed during lunch, a handful of cookies, and smiles on our faces. The moral of this story, you never know what you'll find when you open yourself to new opportunities and take chances on patronizing restaurants you might think to drive by. You can always find enjoyable conversation and new acquaintances if you're willing to be slightly inconvenienced once in a while.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
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