A Table for One

Mia walked into the small restaurant just before nine. The dining room was almost empty. A waiter with a white apron and tired eyes pointed at a corner table.

Pumasok si Mia sa maliit na restaurant bago mag-siyam. Halos walang tao sa dining room. Isang waiter na may puting delantal at pagod na mga mata ang nagturo sa isang mesa sa sulok.

"Just one?" he asked. Mia nodded. She always traveled alone, and she always felt a little nervous ordering in a new language. The menu was on a single sheet of paper, handwritten.

"Isa lang?" tanong niya. Tumango si Mia. Laging mag-isa siyang naglalakbay, at laging kinakabahan kapag nag-o-order sa bagong wika. Ang menu ay nasa isang pirasong papel, nakasulat ng kamay.

She pointed at a word she did not understand. The waiter smiled for the first time. "Is the special of the day," he said in slow English. "My grandmother's recipe. Try it. If you don't like it, I bring something else."

Itinuro niya ang isang salitang hindi niya naintindihan. Ngumiti ang waiter sa unang pagkakataon. "Yan ang espesyal ngayong araw," sabi niya sa mabagal na Ingles. "Resipe ng lola ko. Subukan mo. Kung hindi mo gusto, magdala ako ng iba."

The food arrived in a heavy clay bowl. Hot, garlicky, full of small pieces of bread. Mia took a careful first spoonful and looked up. The waiter was watching from the bar with his arms crossed.

Dumating ang pagkain sa mabigat na clay bowl. Mainit, mabango ng bawang, puno ng maliliit na piraso ng tinapay. Kumuha si Mia ng maingat na unang kutsara at tumingin pataas. Pinapanood siya ng waiter mula sa bar, nakatawid ang mga braso.

She gave him a thumbs up. He laughed, walked over, and refilled her glass. "Good," he said. "Tomorrow you come back and I tell you what's in it."

Nagbigay siya ng thumbs up. Tumawa ang waiter, lumapit, at muling pinuno ang baso niya. "Maganda," sabi niya. "Bukas balik ka at sasabihin ko kung ano ang laman niyan."