OffCite invites short essays, reviews, and observations on specific moments and places like the piece below by Inprint executive director and poet Rich Levy. Interested in contributing your own? Let us know.

I often eat lunch at a terrific Vietnamese restaurant, Van Loc, located in Midtown, at the corner of Rosalie and Milam. One time, my lunch companion and I got our signals crossed, and so I was left to my own devices at a large round table in the front of the room. It was late fall, late in the lunch hour, the restaurant was quieting, and the bright midday sun felt warm on a cool day, magnified by the picture windows.

Storefront of Van Loc. Photo: Allyn West.

 

I sat with my back to the corner, and as I ate my canh chua chay --- a tamarind-based hot-and-sour vegetable soup, wholly unlike the viscous Cantonese hot-and-sour soup I knew from my childhood --- the light highlighted every glistening curve and crevice of the long fine glass noodles, the okra, tomatoes, celery, onions, the chunks of tofu and pineapple, gloss of chili oil on the surface, dark green slices of raw jalapeño, the cilantro and shredded carrot. As always, the soup was garnished with sprigs of a fresh small-leafed herb I could not identify. What a riot of color and shape.

My appreciation of the soup was uninterrupted by conversation; I did not read my book. And because there are no tall buildings near Van Loc, the light, as it comes in the front of the restaurant, is largely undisturbed. I sit at that table whenever I can. Occasionally someone walks by the window, or a bike rider struggles by on the split-level sidewalk, which is designed to protect the unprepossessing building from flooding. I’ve seen the owner pick leaves from the plants in the planters along Milam to use in cooking. Sometimes Kim and her staff sit at a large round table near the register and trim a mountain of snow peas, laughing and talking. At Van Loc, on this relatively quiet corner near the center of a large city, time seems to stop occasionally, which is a blessing, and the light bathes us, and we are allowed to eat something delicious: a bowl of soup.

By Rich Levy

More >>>
Read Rich Levy on the sidewalks of Chicago; read all CiteSeeing posts.

More Articles tagged “Houston + Place”