In the six years that I’ve been frequenting Asian Wok, the small Chinese takeout counter a few blocks from my apartment, I’ve never seen Liling, the kitchen manager, look flustered.
I’ve been there at all hours, from peak lunch rush to that final 30-minute window post-last call, and even when the restaurant is absolutely hectic and the kitchen reaches sweltering temperatures, she’ll simply pin her thick black bangs away from her face and just continue counting.
You see, watching Liling, you realize that her kitchen runs by the numbers — the number of tickets still to be fulfilled, the number