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When you go to a sushi bar, do you pay attention to the cooks who diligently make the sushi that circulate on the kaitan belt? Your eyes are busy scouting for your favourite sushi, while the hands are reaching for a can of wasabi and the head is thinking about school work, unpaid credit card bills or the latest movie. If not, you are busy chatting away with friends.

It is not weird or unacceptable to smile at the cooks and to notice how swiftly their fingers dance; stuffing rice into a piece of folded sea-weed. Their eyes concentrating on how the salmon should be arranged neatly.

My sis and I frequent a local sushi bar and it is a popular chain-store in KL. On one faithful day we made friends with a sushi chef. Something in the way she moved and crafted the sushi captured our attention. She was fast and yet precise, firm and at the same time gentle. From the instructions she issued, it was clear that she ranked higher than the other cooks. No matter how seriously she focused on her work, her voice and demeanour was always polite. She seemed rather strict and we tried our best to smile at her. She smiled back.

From that moment, we became her supporters. It is amazing how she responds to us each time we eat there. We know her name because she wore a name tag. Nevertheless, she doesn't know ours until now. We never had any formal conversation other than "Hi and bye".

The special treatment started on the third time we met her at the same sushi joint. We couldn't see her from outside and wondered if she was at work. So we asked the receptionist if she was in. To my surprise the receptionist said she was and immediately took off like an arrow into the kitchen to inform our special chef that some girls were there to see her.

I looked at my sis and we both hoped that we could each put on a mask to cover our faces. Left with no choice we sat down around the kaitan belt wondering if our chef would be angry with us. To be honest, we are not her friends. We were just regular customers and she does not own the sushi joint. She works there. She might not like to be disturbed.

Before we could device a plan, the kitchen door flung opened and there comes our special chef stretching her neck finding the girls who asked for her. At that point, I knew she didn't recognise us but I thought it was rude if I didn't surrender myself.

Feeling a gush of blood to my cheeks, I raised my hand to wave at her. She immediately spotted me and charmed who I was. She smiled and said "Hi!". My sis was laughing and covering her face with the menu. By way of gesture, she asked who was that giggling and hiding. I pulled down the menu and she exclaimed, "Oh!" and smiled cheerfully to my sis. She signaled to us that she was busy in the kitchen but would come out later. Actually, we were relieved that she was not annoyed.

We placed our orders and while enjoying our sukiyaki beef, she came out from the kitchen and made her way to behind the kaitan belt. She asked with a smile on her face, "Two California temaki hand rolls and one nishoku special?" We nodded with joy like kids who have been given two big bags of sweets.

The hidden message that we will only eat the hand rolls and nishoku she made reached her by unknown methods. I don't know how and why but she naturally gave us personal attention every time we hop in. She would take time off from her kitchen work to attend to us. After that, she goes back into the kitchen. We hardly talk to her. We only smile and smile and smile. That was miraculously enough to initiate a meaningful relationship!

We will tell her face to face that she is very nice. The hand rolls and sushi that she customised for us taste juicier and sweeter because she has a kind heart.

I know that you pay for the food. However, I hope the next time you walk into a eating-place, appreciate the cook who prepares your food. You will never know what surprises will spring-up at you.

Happy eating!