A Sunday Night at Teddy Wong’s

Sunday nights in Weatherford can be pretty quiet.

Especially around the downtown square.

Tonight, the square was noticeably quiet, but Teddy Wong’s was pleasantly and surprisingly moderately busy. Sarah, my waitress, told me it was actually lighter than normal.

There was also a Dallas Cowboys game going on.

But you wouldn’t have known it from inside Teddy’s.

There were no TVs. No football commentary. No constant reminders of the score.

Just soft music playing in the background and the conversations of people enjoying their Sunday night.

And then there were the walls.

Cowhide.

Inside a Chinese restaurant.

Only in Texas.

It was one of those little details that made me smile. Somehow, it seemed perfectly fitting. A Chinese restaurant in the middle of Weatherford, Texas, with cowhide covering the walls. You probably couldn’t create a more Texas version of the experience if you tried.

I took a seat at the bar.

One of the things that pleasantly surprised me was realizing I wasn’t the only person there for the first time.

Almost everyone who came in after me seemed to be experiencing Teddy’s for the first time, too.

There was something about that that I liked.

It wasn’t just me deciding to try someplace new on a Sunday night. Other people were doing the same thing.

Maybe that’s part of what supporting local businesses is about. Not simply returning to the places you already know, but being willing to discover something new in your own backyard.

Teddy’s is known for its dumplings. In fact, dumplings take up what seemed like almost half the menu. But I’m not a fan of dumplings, so I passed.

Instead, I ordered General Tso’s chicken and a side of pork egg rolls.

The food is served family style, so the portions are huge.

My food came out quickly and was piping hot.

Then I realized the chicken didn’t come with rice.

Before I could think much about it, Sarah, the waitress, had already grabbed me a side of rice.

It was a small thing.

But sometimes the small things are what you remember.

I sat there at the bar and decided to do something intentionally different.

I ate with chopsticks.

Not because I needed to.

Because I wanted to slow myself down.

One small bite.

Then another.

I wasn’t trying to hurry through dinner. I wanted to enjoy the food, notice the flavors, and actually experience the meal instead of simply consuming it.

I ended up eating about half of the dish.

And that was enough.

The rest would come home with me for another meal later.

There was no reason to rush through it just because it was sitting in front of me.

Maybe that’s part of what slowing down really means.

It’s not always about doing less.

Sometimes it’s about doing the same thing differently.

Outside, the downtown square was quiet.

Inside, Teddy’s had just enough energy to feel alive without feeling crowded.

And somewhere else, people were watching the Cowboys.

I wasn’t.

I was sitting at a bar in Weatherford, listening to soft music, eating Chinese food with chopsticks, surrounded by cowhide walls, and enjoying a Sunday night one small bite at a time.

And maybe that’s another part of what I’m trying to do with The Here and Now Traveler.

Travel doesn’t always have to mean getting in the car and going somewhere new.

Sometimes it means looking at the place you’re already in a little differently.

Sometimes it means choosing the local restaurant instead of the familiar chain.

Sometimes it means being willing to walk through the door of a place you’ve never been before and realizing that you’re surrounded by other people doing exactly the same thing.

When I finally stepped outside, it was raining.

Instead of immediately getting in my car and heading home, I decided to wait a few minutes.

Maybe the rain would stop.

And if it did, I’d take a walk through the square.

It seemed like the perfect way to end the evening.

No agenda.

No destination.

Just a few extra minutes to see what Weatherford looked like on a rainy Sunday night.

Because sometimes the best part of a meal isn’t the last bite.

It’s what you do after you leave.

One bite at a time.

One step at a time.