There is a new restaurant that opened up near my hometown - Cassia Grill.
The menu consists mainly of reasonably priced Turkish fare. My meal was delicious - stuffed grape leaves, dumplings, custard-y caramel dessert. However, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly sad while eating it. Aside from my friend and I, the place was empty. As a result of this, our waiter was overly eager to please. He recited the specials with extra care, chastised himself for spilling a few drops of coffee onto my saucer. Later he brought out complimentary truffles. Upon reassuring him that we didn't have any sort of walnut allergies, he placed the tray down on the table and explained with pride that he had made them himself. His broken English and cordial manners made us clutch our chests. The thought of him gingerly rolling balls of pliable chocolate in a kitchen late at night, half-absorbing an ESL cassette playing low nearby ("A little off the top please...I need just a trim.") was enough to make us cry. After we had finished our food, we found him stationed by the door, mint bowl in one hand, neatly wrapped leftovers in the other. In that moment, I wanted to gather him up in my arms, press his bearded face deep into my neck and sob "Don't give up on your dreams! You are a beautiful man! You have a truffle hobby for hell's sake! If anyone can make in the American food industry, it is you! YOU!" Instead, I took a mint from the bowl, looked deep into his eyes and vowed "I will return and bring others." He nodded his head solemnly. I am not sure if he believed me. Since then, I have kept my promise, spreading news of the establishment far and wide. Here I go again: anybody with an appetite should hit up Cassia Grill on Mansfield Road in Port Murray, NJ. You will leave full. You will also meet a server who possesses the heart of a saint and the passion of a dessert-making lion.
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