Service Safari for 麻婆豆腐 (Mapo Tofu)
Even if it’s 90 degrees outside, I always turn to spicy food when I need comfort. There’s something about tingly and savory meals that always warm me up and relax me in times of stress, especially if there’s some sort of chili oil involved. For me, the thing that encapsulates “comfort” the most is always mapo tofu.
Back when I stayed in the Palladium dormitory during my sophomore year of college, my go to spot for mapo tofu was Silky Kitchen. It’s a small restaurant located right outside the back entrance of the dorm. Ironically, I had to hunt it down on Google Maps in my search for nearby Hunan food. I hadn’t even realized that I’d already walked past it multiple times on the way home before.
The first time I ate there it wasn’t for mapo tofu at all but for their beef noodle dishes. In fact, you won’t be able to find mapo tofu anywhere on the menu displayed behind the counter. The signage will show you all the other dishes they sell as well as possible modifications you could make to them, including the amount of broth (with options of eating your noodles dry or with soup) and the amount of spice added to your order (no spice, mild, and spicy). It took a few visits for me to realize that there was a television screen with a slideshow of photos of some of their dishes — including one of mapo tofu. Curious, I asked about it when I reached the cashier, who confirmed that they had it on the menu. Thanks to that screen revealing this somewhat hidden menu item, that restaurant soon became the fuel of my exam season due to its decent prices, delicious taste, and proximity to my dorm.
The most recent visit I made to Silky Kitchen was when I was on the way home from work. Before starting my commute home I felt that familiar craving telling me to order. I got off the 6 train at the 14th St Union Square station and walked a block or so to the storefront. Right outside was its familiar chalkboard standee sign advertising their beef noodle soup and its price to passerby. Upon entering, I saw something unfamiliar. Inside the store they had implemented a brand new kiosk to allow customers to order dishes without having to come into contact with the cashiers.
I walked up to the ordering kiosk and started swiping vertically through the menu of options, finding the mapo tofu in a category labeled “miscellaneous dishes.” I could finally order my food without feeling as though I was intruding by ordering something they didn’t want to make or from some sort of taboo hidden menu. The kiosk allowed me to select the level of spice and choose any additions I’d like. Since I knew from prior visits that it came with rice I didn’t choose any add-ons. After reviewing my cart and then checking out, I paid for my food through a contactless tap to pay square that was wired to the kiosk using my phone’s Apple Pay feature. The printer next to the kiosk printed the receipt with my order information and the number 37. Shortly after, the cashier was notified of my order and called out to another staff member that number 37 was a to-go order of mapo tofu.
I waited for my food at the wooden bar style table nailed to the wall that the kiosk interface was positioned on, looking at my phone and occasionally around the restaurant to try and catch any other updates to the storefront. I wasn’t able to find any. The drink selection was in the same place as usual, a fridge display adjacent to the spot in line before the cashier. It contained about the same brands of soda and tea. Its position put it in the perfect spot to catch the eye of a thirsty customer. The place is bustling and noisy with conversation between customers and also in the kitchen behind the scenes but at dinner there are only about half the tables filled. This was surprising to me because of its proximity to Palladium which I felt was a place a lot of students visit for the gym. Surely all this traffic to and from would lead to some passing by the storefront on their way there. I wondered if this was because it was the less-popular back entrance…
After some time had passed, I watched as the other staff member in charge of packing up the orders carried mine to the pick up counter. He loudly opened up a brown paper bag and placed a black plastic bowl of mapo tofu and a smaller white container of rice inside of it. That person behind the booth stapled the bag closed, then called out my order number once in English and once in Chinese. Hearing this, I scurried over to claim it and carry the paper bag home to my apartment where I would eat about half for dinner and afterwards store the rest in the fridge for tomorrow’s lunch.
