The hum of New York City was a siren song I couldn't resist. As a Taiwanese student fresh off the plane, I was intoxicated by the city's ambition, believing this was where I'd find my place in the world. However, the glossy dreams of the American work experience began to fade as my job search hit a wall of repetitive tasks and limited career paths. That's when, far away from the familiar bustle of Taipei, homesickness crept in.
Born as Taiwanese, we live and breathe our food. The vibrant night markets, the symphony of flavors infused with generations of family history – I longed for that familiar comfort. It was in those solitary meals, microwaving lackluster leftovers in my tiny studio apartment, that the spark ignited. There had to be a better way. I realized it was time to forge my own path, not just a career one, but a path that intertwined my faith with my heritage.
Of Faith, Friends, and Fusion Flavors
Along the path, I discovered that I wasn't alone. My lifeline was my network, those bonds forged in the sleepless nights of university and the warm embrace of my church fellowship. It was in them that I found my partners – young, driven, and just as passionate about sharing their faith through food as I was.
We named our brand "Light Salt", a name carrying both practical and spiritual meaning. The practical element was simple: showcasing a fusion of the Cantonese and Taiwanese culinary mastery we grew up with. But it was the deeper symbolism, of spreading our culture and our faith, that truly resonated with us.
We envision Light Salt as a space where people can gather, bridge the gaps, and connect over delicious food. There are moments of doubt, and nights spent questioning if we can make this dream a reality. In a city that could sometimes feel cold and overwhelming, we wanted our restaurant to be a beacon of warmth and kindness.
Flavors of Success and the Salt of Tears
With our concept solidified, the next hurdle was immense. In New York's cutthroat food scene, finding a location that was both affordable and visible felt like a pipe dream. Weeks turned into months, each "space unavailable" notice chipping away at our hope. Then, like a scene out of a movie, it happened. We got the tip about our potential spot on 5th Avenue in the most serendipitous way. A senior happened to text us about a space that just opened, right as we were aimlessly wandering the streets. The price wasn't astronomical this time, it was surprisingly within reach. It's a reminder that: To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.
While the dream of opening our restaurant fuels us, the reality is a long road ahead. Even with a location secured, the challenges keep coming, we're still in the heart of it all – menu testing, hunting for affordable suppliers, and navigating the endless labyrinth of permits.
What's comforting is that there are moments of exhilaration: the wide eyes of those trying our experimental fusion dishes, the feeling that we're creating something truly special. Then there are the nights spent slumped in the online meeting, doubting, wondering if we're in over our heads.
Student entrepreneurship isn't just about bottom lines and business plans. There's a loneliness to it, an additional layer of being an outsider. Juggling long shifts with classes, language barriers with permits, and the constant worry about visa status.
Though the grand opening of Light Salt is still a few weeks away, the journey so far has been a baptism by fire. We're fueled by the belief that this restaurant is more than just a business; it's a chance to share a taste of home, a glimpse into Asian culture, and most importantly, the love and hope of Christ. While artificial intelligence may be booming, it's the human touch, the taste of home dished up with a side of faith and determination, that will always find a place on someone's table – and hopefully, in their hearts.
備註：欲閱讀中文版本，請參考〈把家鄉味帶進紐約，留學生的創業旅程：最絕望的時刻，在第五大道見證「奇蹟」〉。
執行編輯：羅思涵
核稿編輯：林欣蘋
