October 16, 2008
By Anonymous

“Aruduru! Please make quesadilla for my son. He is hungry!” my father shouted. This was often repeated in my Korean family’s small, American fast food restaurant in San-Francisco, California called Fish and Chips. Until my father hired Arturo, whose name my father butchered into “Aruduru,” I ate either Korean or American food. The idea that there were other ethnic foods never crossed my mind, but Arturo changed that.

When Arturo placed a quesadilla consisting of a flour tortilla, cheese, and some peppers, in front of me, neither of us had any idea that it would become a part of the Fish and Chips’ menu. From then on, Arturo became very comfortable with us. One day, I was mildly shocked to hear him say in Korean while giving me a quesadilla, “Eat! Eat!” Being a child and easily amused, I was delighted that he spoke in my native tongue, so I thought I would return the favor and asked him to teach me how to count in Spanish.

I knew that Arturo was different. He frequently spoke to himself in Spanish and had darker skin, but he was fun and made delicious quesadillas. Because he wasn’t afraid to introduce a part of his lifestyle to Fish and Chips, our menu offered more than greasy burgers and fries. Now we also had greasy quesadillas. This is something I want to pass on to people around me, because everyone deserves to try a delicious quesadilla, especially if they have never tried one before: everyone deserves a little diversity in their menu.

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