Yes, each story has its largely-untold face.  Even this short story will no doubt have a set of truths that dip past the willingness of my fingers to move along the keyboard.

This post is about my mom.  She’s a really nice and generous lady who has become a friend to me more and more over the years.  I go to her for advice and comfort, as any child should.  Sadly, she and my dad are no longer married.  By the same token, happily, she and my father are no longer married.  Thankfully, they are still friends and our family — though not picture-perfect — is still a cohesive family (as cohesive families tend to go these days).

Often times she doesn’t factor into my stories about the restaurant because she left the business when she and my dad separated in 2001.  But she works at Red Moon on Fridays, which is actually fun for all of us.  It’s kind of nice to indulge ourselves in “something for old time’s sake” once in awhile.  I think it shows us that our resilience as individuals permit us to hold on to things that are good… no matter what has transpired between now and then.

So in honor of that spirit, I present to you faithful blog readers grainy photographs of my parents in their early days of being restaurateurs (grainy because I snatched them via BlackBerry from a photo album at my grandma’s house today):

My dad, Tin Tat Kwan, tending to the stock pot at Kwan's Chinese Cuisine in 1982 shortly after he and Jennifer Kwan opened for business.

Kwan's Chinese Cuisine on 54th and Penn Avenue in Minneapolis in 1982 -- Jennifer Kwan pictured.

Jennifer Kwan getting some rice from the smallest rice cooker in Chinese restaurant history. Makes it seem like they were the first people in Minnesota to serve the stuff.

Shortly after opening Kwan's Chinese Cuisine in 1982, my parents discovered they were pregnant. Oh my.