Chapter 10 — Tomorrow's Kitchen

Lan's mother removed the bottom board of the old cabinet and took out a blue-covered notebook that was swollen with moisture.

I thought it was a debt book. Mom said no, this is the first menu book of Bep Nha Kitchen, written before the restaurant had a sign.

They sat in the storage room after the post about second-rate vegetables spread throughout the market group. Vy reported to the company receiving the application, Binh was explaining to the wholesale stall owner, and Ha went to check the entire refrigerator. Man sent a single message: “I can help handle the media if you sign the memorandum of understanding.”

Khoi has not responded yet.

Lan's mother opened the notebook. The first page has only three lines:

RICE — BUY ACCORDING TO ABILITY.

SOUP — COOK WITH ENOUGH WATER.

WHO IS SITTING TO EAT, ASK THAT PERSON.

“Mommy wrote?” Khoi asked.

"No. Ha wrote."

Ha stood at the door, hearing her name. She didn't go in right away.

“Mom, do you remember this?” she asked.

"Miss."

Khoi turns the page. Below the first lines is a list of ingredients that don't follow the recipe: pumpkin from Mr. Nam's field, catfish from Uncle Bay, small water spinach, eggs that are broken but still usable. Each line has an additional name, an amount, and a dash.

“What is this?” Khoi asked.

Lan's mother said: "The portion is enough to eat."

“Where is the formula?”

“There is no fixed formula.”

Ha comes in, sits down. "It started in the first year the restaurant opened. The group of road repair workers ate full meals because at that time it was sold by portion. At the end of the month, they asked for less rice and more soup. Some people wanted eggs, some people wanted fish. Mom told the kitchen to try it."

Khoi turned the next pages. One way to write every day. Some days "a bowl of rice, shredded fish, boiled vegetables, lots of soup". There are days when "potatoes replace rice because the price of rice has increased". Some days “no meat, more beans”. No page has the word “heirloom”.

“So why later did the menu say this dish was the Lan family's recipe?”

Lan's mother looked at Ha. “Because a menu designer said customers need to hear that sentence.”

“Mom agrees.”

“I thought it was just a name.”

Ha replied: "A call repeated for many years will come true."

Khoi read a page with red ink. “After the flood, this dish saved the restaurant?”

Lan's mother nodded. "It's not the dish. The person who cooked it."

She recounted the season of rising water. Kitchen House cannot be opened for sale because the floor is flooded, but the backyard is still dry. Ha borrowed a pot from a neighbor's house. The vase that puts the vegetables in doesn't get soaked. Vy, who was only nineteen at that time, went door to door to receive food. Mr. Sau uses a cart to transport pot. People contributed rice, eggs, and gas money.

“My mother borrowed to pay her salary after that,” Khoi said.

“Mom borrowed because she wanted the shop to reopen.”

“And the food portion is back.”

“That thing has never gone away.”

Ha took a photocopy page. On it were her notes:

“Rice is not the main part if the person eating needs medicine.”

“Second grade vegetables can be used if checked first.”

"It's not called poor rate."

Khoi remembered during his apprenticeship years, he turned that dish into an "economical combo", adding a beautiful label and a slogan. He had no idea he was holding a history that had been extracted from its creator.

“Why didn't mom say anything?” Khoi asked.

Lan's mother replied: "I don't think the effort will disappear just because of a different name."

Ha looked at her. “For workers, being called by the wrong name many times is also a kind of disappearance.”

Lan's mother bowed her head. “I know.”

Outside the shop there were sounds of people arguing. Vy ran in and said a reporter from a local news site was asking Binh about second-class vegetables. Binh didn't want to speak up, but the post called out his stall's name.

Khoi stood up. “I need to say it clearly before someone else tells it for me.”

“Say what?” Vy asked. “That the restaurant uses vegetables type two?”

"Correct."

“People will understand that the vegetables are spoiled.”

“So explain what second-rate goods are, how to check them, and how much to put away.”

Ha took the green notebook. “And saying the portion is enough is not a discount tactic.”

Lan's mother looked at the three people. “Don't use the flood story to ask for mercy.”

Khoi asked: "What do you want to say?"

“Say we did something wrong yesterday. Say we're testing today. Say that tomorrow customers have the right not to accept dishes with unknown ingredients."

Vy holds the phone. She made an announcement, but every sentence was deleted and then rewritten. Khoi suggested using the term "second-class ingredients". Vy asked if she should say "take advantage of". Ha said to avoid that word because it sounds like turning cheap parts into achievements. Binh said to write the correct product name and conditions of use.

Finally, the article has four parts: the application for two hundred seats was flawed; Second-class vegetables are raw materials classified according to form, damaged goods are not used; The receiving process will be public; The shop refunds the missing part and opens an inspection session for the person who ordered.

Khoi read it twice. “Post it.”

Vy posted.

Response came quickly. Some people curse at the color shop. Someone asked if the second type is a bad product. A regular customer wrote: "I have been eating at Nha Kitchen for ten years and have never seen them hide vegetables. But this time we should tell which dishes use second-class products.”

Ha replied directly from the restaurant's account, clearly stating the name of each dish. Binh sent photos of the product selection process, but covered the seller's face at their request. One person asked if the customer didn't want the second-class product, could they exchange it? Vy wrote: “Yes, if notified in advance; The shop will clearly record the difference.”

Khoi saw another question: "Who is responsible when food makes people sick?"

He did not let Vy answer for him. He wrote: “The chef and the person in charge of the shift are responsible for inspection; The shop must save the form and record feedback. If there is any safety doubt, the restaurant will stop the dish before determining the cause."

Ha read and nodded. “Don't blame the chef if you don't have the right to stop.”

Khoi corrected: "People have the right to check."

Lan's mother took a pen and wrote below the post on a piece of paper: "The right to stop food must be written in the rules, not just in the promise."

In the afternoon, they checked all the goods. Second-grade vegetables are washed separately, divided into portions for use during the day, need to be cooked immediately and discarded. Khoi stood next to Ha, recording the time and quantity. She teaches newbies how to look at waterlogged leaves, slimy stems, and fungus stains. Some people think vegetables are bad just because they are small or misshapen. Ha said distorted vegetables are not bad vegetables.

Khoi asked: "Can it be measured?"

"Have. By testing hands, eyes and time. Not everything needs a machine.”

“I still want to record.”

“Write it down. But write down the person who checked it.”

In the evening, enough food is cooked according to the green book. Khoi divided the ingredients into three trays. Tray one has shredded fish, tray two has eggs, tray three has tofu and vegetables. No part is identical. Ha doesn't call it a mistake.

“What do guests choose?”

“Ask them.”

Mr. Sau came to eat. Khoi placed three types in front of him. He chose the fish and asked for squash.

“Do you want to pay more?” Vy asked.

Mr. Sau said: “If you calculate clearly, I can pay. If you give it because you're shy, I don't want it."

Vy looked at Khoi. That statement prompted them to write an extra line on the price list: “Add seasonal vegetables — not included in one portion; add fish or eggs — quote in advance.”

A female worker named Phuong chose tofu, but put two thousand into the meal fund jar. She said today Get paid, tomorrow someone else may need it. Lan's mother wanted to refuse, Phuong told the shop not to turn everyone into recipients forever.

Khoi heard the phrase "people have the right to sit down" again. That right is not just about being helped. It's also about contributing in any way I can.

After dinner, Lan's mother placed the green book on the table. “This dish is the midpoint of the restaurant,” she said.

“Midpoint?” Vy asked.

“If you understand it, you will understand what it means to sell a shop.”

Khoi looked at the pages. Serving portions don't start with a complete recipe. It starts with asking people how much they need. Every time the ingredients are changed, it retains one thing: the person sitting in front is not forced to buy more than they can afford.

Man called again. Khoi turned on the speaker.

“I saw the post,” Man said. “You're turning a delivery incident into a media campaign.”

“I am making the process public.”

"Guests don't read the process. They read the title."

“So help them read correctly.”

Min is quiet. “I can get the food safety team to check for free.”

“Your team or a third party?”

“The unit I cooperate with.”

"Are not."

“You can't check it yourself and declare it safe.”

Khoi sees that Man intends to help, but his help always comes with a door leading into the contract. “We will invite independent units,” Khoi said.

“Where is the money?”

“Incident cost included.”

“Do you still have money to count?”

Khoi looked at the debt table. "Not enough. But we can't use cheap conclusions because of lack of money."

The call ended. Ha said Khoi may have lost a way out.

“Is there an exit through which I owe more decision-making power?” Khoi asked.

Ha did not answer immediately. “Yes. But you must know the price.”

That night, Khoi took the paper Man sent and wrote next to the terms: "Do not transfer the right to tell the story to the buyer", "contributors have the right to withdraw their names", "the price of the food portion must not be used as bait and then doubled".

He knew Man wouldn't agree with everything. But for the first time, he didn't read the contract just to see how much money the shop would get.

He read to know whose shop still belonged to him after he had the money.

Before going to sleep, Khoi opened the green book to the last page. There is a line Lan's mother wrote in faded ink:

"Tomorrow, if there is no more fish, cook eggs. If there are no eggs left, cook vegetables. If there are no vegetables left, ask each other what else can be shared."

Khoi closed the book.

The post about second-rate vegetables is still spreading. Tomorrow morning, someone will come to check the kitchen. That person is not the bank, not a regular customer, and not Man.

It was a reporter who read the anonymous message and wanted to know who was really behind the photo of the vegetable bin.