Not far from the hospital is a vietnamese cafe that makes amazing banh mis for $8-9. I discovered it thanks to my partner’s recommendation and have visited it regularly these last few weeks.

All the banh mis are delicious but my favourite order is the crispy pork. I rarely eat pork but the one here is my guilty exception. I have ordered it twice this week and have been very happy both times.

Today I went in for a late lunch, ready to play the dance of scanning the menu when I already know what I want, when the shop owner looked at me, smiled and said, Crispy pork? At first I thought I misheard him since he said it so casually, like him saying, Good day, or How are you, but then I saw he had already put the price on the counter machine. He had remembered my order.

This is the first time any store has remembered my order. I’ve never particularly cared about this since the food is the same regardless, but this small acknowledgement was very touching. I suddenly felt that my previous visits were meaningful, that the store owner didn’t take me for granted, but remembered my face and made the effort to associate my order with it. He must have over 100 customers a day and the thought that he was able to remember me out of all of them was comforting.

Too touched and shocked for words, I nodded and paid on my phone.

One of the best ways you can appreciate someone is to remember the things they have told you. In this era of digital dementia, memory is a scarce resource. So if someone knows that they occupy just a little bit of your storage space, it can be a big deal. And maybe, this comfort will unlock more trust and openness in the future.

Here’s to more crispy pork orders.