Christmas Chinese

This Christmas, I stayed in St. Louis. Because I just started my new job, I had to work a 1/2 day on Monday, Christmas Eve, so it just wasn’t practical to travel this year.

On Christmas Eve, I had dinner, drinks, movie, gift exchange, etc at Drew’s parents home, which was great as always. I enjoyed blissful hours of extra sleep on Christmas morning, and then watched the kiddos tear into their presents when they arrived in the early afternoon. (The pirate book which I got for Kinder was a big hit, as were the fairy lanterns for Hadley.) After an afternoon of lounging by the fireplace, the Christmas adventure began.

I usually dress up a bit for Christmas, but this was such a low-key year that I spent it in jeans. Not the going out jeans, the comfy jeans. When I had gotten up that morning, I threw a sweater on over the Asian style pajama top I was wearing, and it looked so cute that I decided to wear it as a blouse for the day under my sweater. The pajama top in question has festive red satin trim, and somehow seemed appropriate. I added my string of Buddhist prayer beads and a pair of red and green argyle socks to finish off the outfit, ‘cause I’m a rock star like that, and was ready to go out.

Having arrived home from a family visit that afternoon, and having not eaten since breakfast, Dave invited me out for dinner. I don’t remember the last time I went out on Christmas, but I related to him a story my friend AH told me last year. AH happens to be Jewish (I, obviously, am not.) He and his wife had just moved to the area, and had an out of town guest. He told me that it’s a pseudo tradition in Jewish culture to go out for Asian food on Christmas since many Asians are Buddhists and therefor don’t observe the Christmas holiday either, which all makes good sense. Apparently last year, being new to the area, they were unable to find an Asian restaurant open however, and ended up eating scones from Coffee Cartel and random Seven 11 items. So I told Dave this story as a semi-cautionary tale, but he assured me that Mangia was open on Christmas, and since I’ve been there a million times but have never properly eaten dinner there, it seemed like a plan.

We met up and Dave’s first question was, “What are you wearing?” I explained my pajama top thing, he said awesome, and off to Mangia we went. It was closed. I was kind of un-surprised, but Dave looked confused. The Diner was also closed, which confused me. We had a vague idea that Blueberry Hill was open, but upon calling, we learned that only the bar was serving, no food. We decided to drive to the loop anyway while discussing a back-up plan of cooking pasta. While driving past all the closed restaurants on the loop and laughing about it, we suddenly realized, “Olive.” The section of Olive between the loop and I170 is the mecca of Asian restaurants in St. Louis. Because it was Christmas, the entire process wasn’t frustrating, but more adventurous. Even if the quest ended in cooking pasta. I wasn’t really expecting anything to be open, more simply curious about what randomly might be. (Note that a tiny bar called “Cathy’s Cozy-Up” was indeed open. We considered it for a second, out of mere curiosity, then thought better of the idea.)

Olive proved exciting indeed. Neon orange “Open” signs harmonized with crazy configurations of Christmas lights, and Asian food choices abounded. Spicy fried smells filled the frosty air. Even the forty minute wait at each restaurant seemed festive somehow. Then suddenly, while walking up the sidewalk to the Chinese restaurant we eventually settled on, I stopped. “I’m wearing an Asian style pajama top and Buddhist prayer beads… as a necklace.” Dave laughed at me. I button a few more buttons on my cardigan, strategically adjusted my scarf, and felt like an utter moron. While waiting for our food to arrive, I drank copious amounts of hot tea, and remarked that it was getting warm in the room. Dave helpfully suggested that I remove my sweater. I tried to decide whether to giggle or bust out the disapproving look. But despite my attire, dinner was yummy (I had Vietnamese style shrimp) and the service was frazzled but excellent. I don’t think anyone noticed what I was wearing.

And it was a fun Christmas.