Night 1: Hung, Steamed Custard Buns
The Late Night Diner is a part of Rhodes Island's canteen. That goes without saying – to whom had anyone ever heard of a diner in the boiler room?
As the name implies, it opens around midnight. There are only a handful of customers at a time.
Operators off their night shift could take an order and bring back to their quarters. Night owls could sit dining-in while leeching off the Diner's wi-fi. The Doctor would come for instant noodles from time to time.
Drinks are in the cooler. Anyone burdened by their own thoughts could take one and chug it down, anytime.
Menu? No such thing exists. What the Chef prepares is what you get. It all depends on his mood of the day.
Welcome to the Rhodes Island Late Night Diner. In here, you might even meet a familiar face or two.
In fact, Hung is a staff of the canteen. He came in with a cartful of flour bags and assorted vegetables when it was around closing time.
"Yo boss," the imposing Perro hollered. He had always carried with him a sense of security, especially so when he's also quite fluffy. "How's business tonight?"
It seems nobody had ever called the proprietor by name. Almost nobody. And nobody could remember when he started cooking for the late night crew.
"Not so good," the boss wiped his hands on the apron, "The ventilator broke. I can only make do with steamer."
Hung shrugged in response, then hoisted a bag of flour on his shoulder and carried it into the kitchen. He caught the lingering scent of custard in the air. The light in the hallway fizzled.
"Custard buns? I eat them often with Mister Lee and the team back in Lungmen."Hung smiled in good nature, "I never know you could make them."
"Heh. Some sweets to lift the mood for our night-shifters," the Chef said, all the while swiftly rolling out skins for the buns, "You all work so very hard."
Hung put the flour bags in neat stacks, then opened up the fridge lid and put the vegetables in sorted orders. "You said the vent broke, eh boss?"
"Yeah, I can't get it started for the sake of my life. I had called Engineering to get it fixed in the morning. Shouldn't be a problem for you morning shift guys." the Chef said. He took a rolled dough skin, put it in between his index finger and thumb, and placed a lump of custard filling in the centre. Then he turned the skin round and round, letting it wrap tightly around the succulent filling while closing it at the top. Afterwards he adjusted the shape of the bun slightly, then stamped lightly a small red marking on the for it to leaven.
The tall Perro walked towards the stove. It didn't take much effort for him to reach for the ventilator above it. He observed, the asked where the Chef kept his tools. Two young nurses coming off night shift poked their heads into the Diner, looking at the display cabinet expectantly.
"What are you making boss? "
"Hey, isn't that Hung? Boss, is Hung cooking tonight?", one asked in excitement.
"Steamed custard buns. I made them", the Chef put the steamer above a boiling pot, "Hung's just here for delivery."
The girls let out a collective sigh of disappointment.
When the steamer was clattering on the pot, pushed by gushes of steam from below, Hung came back with a spanner and a screw-driver. He took down the metal panels on the ventilator, tested the wiring behind and wiped down the pipes. With some adjustment of the circuitry, the ventilator miraculously came back to life.
"Not bad, young man. Not bad. Thank you very much." the Chef said, looking at Hung and nodded in approval. Hung, covered head to toe in grease stains, gave a shy smirk, "I just learned how to repair kitchen appliances the other day, never thought I'd use it here. Less work for the guys down at Engineering, and us cantina people won't have to wait. Pretty good, I'd say myself. Anyway boss, if there's nothing else, I'll just gonna..."
Grumble. It came from Hung's stomach.
"Oh, what's the hurry?" the Chef heard it, and pushed Hung down on a chair. He patted on his should, "Sit down and have a bite. Once you had your fill, it'd be just in time for me to close up shop."
With that said, he put down a steamer full of hot custard buns on the table. Ivory white skin gleamed like pearl, the markings red like plum blossoms in snow. Hung peeled off his dirty gloves, took a bun and tore it in half – the puffy bun, with tiny pores on its skin, gave up its tightly guarded centre. The melted golden custard dripped down like honey and almost hit the table. In a hurry, Hung caught the droplets with his mouth and inhaled sharply. He almost burned his tongue.
Before he knew it, the creamy sweetness filled his mouth. Hung licked his lips. An old, familiar sensation hit him. He sat there in a daze, as if suddenly being transported back in time to that small Lungmen café, where Aak sat facing him across the table, who then playfully picked out the filling of a cha sui bun and ate it.
When he came back to his senses, the steamer was empty. "Boss", he called , and took out his wallet for payment.
"Well hold it," the Chef dismissed with a wave of his hand, and gestured towards the repaired ventilator, "It's on me."
Hung hesitated. A moment later, he put the wallet back into his pants pocket with a smile on his face. Money could buy custard buns, it's always true. But sweet nostalgia is not always easily gained with a few sheets of Lungmen dollars.
"Come, give me a hand with the cutting board. We gotta clean up the space for the youngsters working the canteen in the morning." the Chef hollered.
"Got it!" with steamer in hand, Hung hurried towards the kitchen.