Hindi Pala Automatic Nakahiwa ang Tenderloin sa Sizzling Plate
Growing up, sobrang favorite ko talaga ang Sizzling Plate, but around two years ago lang ako nahilig specifically sa sizzling tenderloin nila. I loved everything about it—malasa, soft, and somehow laging madaling kainin because it always came in little bite-sized pieces.
Last week, I had a particularly exhausting day. Law school exams are nearing, professors are cramming lessons, and my brain honestly felt fried by the end of the day. So I decided I deserved a comforting dinner na hindi masakit sa bulsa. Naturally, dumiretso ako sa food court and ordered sizzling tenderloin.
A few minutes later, tinawag pangalan ko.
Pagdating ko sa counter, medyo naconfuse ako.
Buong steak yung nasa plate.
As in isang malaking slab ng tenderloin na nagsisizzle pa aggressively sa harap ko. Walang bite-sized pieces. Walang hiwa-hiwa.
So instinctively, natanong ko yung staff, “Ay, hindi po nakahiwa?”
Tiningnan niya lang ako for a second before saying, “Hindi naman po talaga siya nakahiwa, ma’am.”
At that point, I just assumed tinatamad lang siguro yung usual staff na gumagawa nun. Which, honestly, fair enough. Lahat naman tayo napapagod sa trabaho.
So dinala ko yung tray pabalik sa table and spent the next several minutes struggling to cut the tenderloin using only a spoon and fork kasi wala ring knife 😭
Pag-uwi ko, kinwento ko agad sa boyfriend ko because I thought it was a funny story.
Sabi ko pa, “Pero okay lang naman, lahat naman tayo tinatamad sa trabaho minsan. Nakakainis nga lang kasi ang hirap hiwain nung tenderloin gamit spoon and fork. Di man lang nagbigay ng knife.”
He started snickering.
Not just a quick laugh either. Yung tipong ilang segundo na pero tuloy-tuloy pa rin siya tumatawa habang nakatingin sakin.
Eventually he goes, “Hindi naman talaga nakahiwa yun. Ako lang naghihiwa bago ko dalhin sa table. Minsan may staff na nag-ooffer, pero kadalasan ako pa rin gumagawa lalo na kapag maraming tao.”
Apparently, every single time we ate at Sizzling Plate for the past two years, habang nakaupo ako sa table waiting, he’d be at the counter quietly cutting my steak into bite-sized pieces before bringing it to me.
And because he did it so casually every single time, never mentioning it even once, I genuinely thought ganun lang talaga sineserve yung pagkain.
Hindi ko talaga napansin for two years.
I just sat there after his explanation staring at him because suddenly ang daming moments na nag-click sa utak ko. Yung medyo matagal siya minsan sa counter. Yung pagdating niya sakin, ready kainin agad yung food. Yung never kong kinailangang mahirapan maghiwa ng steak habang natatalsikan ng gravy.
It’s such a small thing. Sobrang liit and honestly medyo nakakatawa.
But I think love sometimes looks exactly like that—doing small inconvenient things so quietly and consistently that the other person mistakes it as the world naturally being gentle with them.
And I think there’s something really soft about realizing someone has been making tiny things easier for you for years without needing you to notice it.
Somehow, the stupid sizzling tenderloin made me realize that for the first time in my life, being cared for felt more natural than doing everything myself.