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She met up with Everest that evening for dinner, steaming bowls of pho and fresh salads in the dark back corner of a restaurant. The place clamored with people chatting and slurping.
“You know my mom said she’d never had Vietnamese food until college?” Sara said. “Can you imagine?”
He shrugged. “I think my grandparents didn’t even try real Italian food until adulthood,” he replied. “The world used to be very small.”
“I mourn for them,” she said.
He chuckled. “Is this your favorite then?”
She drank a careful spoonful of the broth while she thought. “That would probably be Japanese, actually. Nothing beats miso black cod.”
“Decadent.”
“Endangered.”
“True,” he said, nodding. “Was it hard to give up meat, coming here?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been vegetarian for a couple years,
