Regina Inglin
I know this probably sounds like one voice among many, but I want to say this plainly. My experience at Mot Hai Ba healed something in me. I am not from Dallas. When I was planning my visit, my friend, who has traveled the world and knows food, could not wait to take me here, even though it was on the other side of the city from us. I arrived curious but unprepared for how intimate the restaurant would be: small, unassuming, energetic, and tucked just far enough off the beaten path to feel like a discovery rather than something chasing attention, which somehow made it feel even more special. Before we arrived, the hostess called to offer us an earlier reservation and remembered us when we walked in. I understand there could have been another reason motivating that call, but to us it set the tone for an experience that felt personal when it could’ve felt procedural. We were seated at the bar, which at first was not ideal since we were not planning to drink, but that hesitation disappeared almost immediately. Gabe, the bartender, welcomed us warmly and did not make us feel as though we were borrowing his space; instead, he treated the bar as exactly what it became for the next hour and a half: the best seat in the house. His knowledge of the menu, his pacing, and the way he described each dish felt generous rather than rehearsed, and despite our initial preference for our own conversation, his presence became an appreciated part of the meal. We started with the Swiss chard tempura and the banh bao buns, both of which were ✨delightful✨. After that, we shared the duck breast which is the kind of dish that invites you to slow down and pay attention and garlic noodles because…come on. The duck was plated colorfully but never felt fussy, which I personally think is a hard line to walk these days. I like that kind of restraint because it lets the flavors speak for themselves. I think that is what has stayed with me most. You know how people say you can tell when a designer loves women by the way they style them. I think you can tell when chefs love food by the way they treat it. You the traveler are not the point per se. The food, this moment, and you are the point. This felt like food made with care and respect, not to show off, but to be enjoyed. This was my first full evening in Dallas seeing my friend after a year apart. As we moved between serious conversation and laughter, the food and Gabe’s descriptions created a sense of ease neither of us expected. And for about an hour and a half, sitting at the bar, it felt really good to be alive. We finished with apple tart and Licor 43, which felt like the perfect ending to an already beautiful experience. We have not stopped gushing about it and are already trying to figure out how to go back. I am writing this late at night instead of going to bed, not to give my stamp of approval, but simply to say thank you. Can’t wait to return.
