“A restaurant is 
not a business; 
it’s a passion.” 
Laura Maioglio 

I’ve passed by it many times — on foot and in my car. Sadly, I never noticed it until yesterday afternoon. Just north of the intersection of Saratoga Avenue and Williams Road in San José, a small restaurant occupies a cozy, but easily overlooked retail space at 991 Saratoga Avenue #110. Luna Del Mar is a mother-daughter venture specializing in seafood and a variety of Mexican dishes. The establishment has been there since September 2023. 

Yesterday, while out for an afternoon walk, I dropped off a letter at our local post office on Payne Avenue. Then I walked down Saratoga Avenue toward Interstate 280. As I crossed Williams Road, I looked at my phone to check the time. That’s when I noticed that I’d missed a call from Kathy, who is visiting one of her brothers in Las Vegas this weekend. I looked around for a place where I could sit in the shade and return her call. In front of Luna Del Mar, there were two chairs, situated perfectly to give me both privacy and comfort. Or so I thought.

As I sat down in one of the chairs, it completely collapsed below me. Apparently, someone had donated the defective chairs earlier that day, but the restaurant owner had not yet had time to dispose of them. So there I was, sitting on the ground amidst the rubble of what was once a chair. In addition to a significant thump to my rear end, the ribcage on the left side of my back had experienced painful contact with a large flower pot. For a minute or two, I didn’t move. I wasn’t sure if, or how badly, I might have been injured. Finally, a passer-by and his wife, who saw or heard me hit the ground, came to my aid. He and the restaurant owner helped me up to a standing position. I was invited to sit inside the restaurant in a more comfortable chair and offered a glass of cold water.

I’m fairly certain that the owner was fearful that a lawsuit would be forthcoming. She and her daughter provided some much appreciated hospitality, providing a hot pack to apply to my ribcage. The mother, who owns the establishment, doesn’t speak English, so her college-age daughter was her interpreter for our conversation. I realized immediately that these two women were hard-working, honest individuals trying to provide a good eating experience for their customers. I asked to see a menu.

I was impressed with the variety of offerings, but I wasn’t all that hungry, so I ordered a beef quesadilla. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the food delivered to my table far exceeded any expectations I might have had. The meal was fresh, well prepared, and plentiful. 

So yeah, what started as an embarrassing situation ended with a delightful early dinner and the opportunity to meet two new friends. I insisted on paying for my meal, but I was not allowed to do so. When I told the owner that I would not file a lawsuit, she was incredibly relieved and shed tears of gratitude. And why would I do that, anyway? The experience was startling, and I have a few aches, but it was an accident. Stuff happens… and life goes on. There was no real negligence on her part.

Gratitude makes a difference! And it’s contagious. The restaurant owner and her daughter are grateful that I’m not going to seek to be compensated for the incident, and I am grateful for a delicious meal and for the tender loving care I received from them.