“This lamb is worth any intestinal issues that may arise, which, for the record, is just as bad on a date as it is on a job.”

“Well, I’m eating it too,” she pointed out.

“Maybe we should get three servings.”

After we passed our order to the waiter, I basked in Chloe’s smile, the smell of broth in the air, the fact that I was, for once, spending Christmas with someone I cared about.

“Merry Christmas,” I said, raising my cup of tea.

“Merry Christmas,” she said, her smile tinged with sadness.

“I wish I could take your pain away,” I said as we clinked cups.

“Actually… I have an idea,” she started. “A way to maybe find out what’s going on with my dad.”

“I’m already in.”

She’d barely explained anything before I confirmed that I was still in, adding, “Doctor’s office tomorrow, no sweat. We’re already pros at cons.”

“Great pun!” she complimented me, and we chuckled together.

By the time Chloe had obtained the doctor’s phone number from her mother and left a message to make an appointment, our uncooked food had arrived.

“Does your family use gōng kuài too?” she asked, picking up the spare chopsticks she’d asked the server for.

“Nah, we just use our own chopsticks to pick up the raw meat, and then we sterilize the tips in the boiling water for a couple seconds.”

She shuddered. “I need these for peace of mind.” She picked up a slice of lamb, cooked it for five seconds in the bubbling part of the broth, then dropped it on my plate. “Isn’t it weird that we’re paying to cook our own food?”

“Not any weirder than Korean barbecue,” I said in a strange voice because I’d (sigh) taken a bite of the still-boiling lamb and was chewing with my mouth open to let the steam out. Hot hot hot but yum yum yum. I took a swig of ice water. “At least with hot pot you get to finish your meal by drinking the broth you’ve created.”

She cooked a second slice of lamb for herself, blowing on it before popping it in her mouth.

She groaned. “Okay, you were right: the lamb is fantastic. Are three orders enough?”

“We can always get more. But here, try this.” I lāo-ed her a fish ball with the gold netted scooper. “It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

“I’m not really a fan of fish balls,” she confessed.

“This one has a meatball inside. And this”—I plucked her a different fish ball with a pointed top like a gnome’s hat—“is filled with fish roe.”

She went for the fish-roe one, biting in way too fast. “Oh my God. So freaking good. Even worth burning my palate for.”

“I know, right?”