Happy Birthday at Happy Day

The aptly named Happy Day seafood restaurant was the venue for Mom's 80th birthday party. My younger siblings voted unanimously that I, as the eldest son, should follow tradition and be the one to welcome the guests and say a few words. (Interesting how they don't believe in other traditions, such as primogeniture.)

Because there was no microphone in a noisy restaurant, I summarized Mom's 80 years in 80 seconds. Besides, it's now the fashion to get our point across in 140 characters or less. My brother blessed the food, and dinner commenced.

The cold appetizer plate was chock-filled with favorites: cold ginger chicken, pickled jellyfish, char siu (roast pork), and roast duck. The meats were just right, moist, yet fully cooked. Those who were unfamiliar with the necessity of pacing oneself at Chinese nine-course dinners took several helpings. Ah, to have the cholesterol count and stomach capacity of a 20-year-old.

The waiters quickly served the crisp-skinned Peking duck with hoisin sauce and sliced scallions in a warm bun, the stir-fried lobster, shrimp with walnuts, cake noodle (for a long life), kow yuk (belly pork) that was steamed until it was fork-tender, and more ginger chicken. But for my money the centerpiece was the deceptively simple melon soup, steamed for hours in a hollowed out melon. The liquid was clean, yet complex, redolent with the smell of the winter melon.

We sang "Happy Birthday" and conversed with relatives whom I had not seen for many years. Anticipating a mouth-watering lunch the next day, I turned to scoop up a few (of the many) boxes of leftovers that had been lying on the tables, but none were left. I guess they liked it.