Not quite, but close enough

“Sometimes you want to go
where everybody knows your name,
and they’re always glad you came.”

- Theme from Cheers

Being raised spoiled on Chinese cuisine, there are a million reasons that I can nitpick about the food that North Park serves. Hot tea is always served lukewarm, noodles are semi-raw, dimsum’s barely passable, etc. But still, there were lots of reasons why we (and by we, I mean I) settled on having our weekly kwentuhan sessions at this particular branch in Makati.

For starters, the place still has the most practical proximity to everyone’s place of employment. It also has had free parking to boot. Tell me, where in Makati can you expect to find a place with free guarded parking? (Unfortunately, that was then.)

But the main reason why I insisted on going there every week was really, a product of my obsession. It had to do with wanting to have a place where it felt like home, where the waiters recognize you. In the shallowness of my mind, I even thought about coming in, sitting down and..

Waiter: Sir, what’s your order?
Me: Oh, I’ll have the usual.
Waiter: Ok. One wanton noodle, siomai and extra calamansi.

Unfortunately, months of heading over to the same North Park did little to attain that status of being remembered. We’ve since moved on to other, and not necessarily better, places. And while I’d now prefer heading over to the Brother’s burger next door, or that Indian place right across the street, I do sometimes think about that feeling of coming home to dine and laugh in North Park again.

Even though the feeling is not mutual.