Hello Uncle Pop-Up Serves in an Ever-Changing Plaza Midwood

When boo asked me on a recent evening if I wanted to try the Southeast Asian pop-up Hello Uncle for dinner, I sighed because founder Michael Le was set up at Common Market in Plaza Midwood on this specific night, and if you’ve been to the ‘Wood lately, you know parking has increasingly become a nightmare. 

But the thought of khao man gai being just five minutes away was enough to push me past my hesitation — not only because I was craving it but because, in this city, you never know when your last bite at a favorite spot will actually be your last. 

And at the rate that Plaza Midwood is changing, who knows what might disappear next?

I’ve never been one for change; hell, I’m still griping about Jackalope Jack’s moving Elizabeth to Plaza. The Hulk would pale in comparison if you got me started on the mixed-use monstrosity that has devoured the skyline view and erased any trace of coveted stapes like Elizabeth Billiards and Sammy’s Deli. 

Read more: A Farewell to Plaza Midwood (2022)

The gag? I’ve only been in Charlotte since 2012. I don’t even “go here” … yet somehow, I’m already mourning the “old Midwood” like I’ve been here my whole life.

I rolled my eyes as I pulled up to the intersection of Pecan and Commonwealth avenues. Traffic lights have replaced the old “3.5-way stop signs” (if you know, you know), and for those of us who navigate this stretch daily, the “upgrade” is bittersweet. 

Sweet, because the four-way-challenged drivers might finally figure it the fuck out, and bitter because there’s no ignoring the looming “progress” of the sprawling Commonwealth development.

And because cyclists are still going to ignore all of it … as I slammed on the brakes to avoid a jogger running across my green light, waving flippantly as if “I” was in the wrong. 

“A box of wine hates to see me coming,” I grumbled as I stared a hole in the back of the jogger’s head before beginning my frantic search for a parking spot. 

As the Midwood gods would have it, I turned into the parking lot next to CM to find a lone vacant parking spot. “This is the Black History Month energy I’m here for, baby,” I exclaimed as I backed in, that “Reverse Angle Parking (RAP)” song playing somewhere in the deepest depths of my unconscious. 

“Would you like to donate to…?” I heard as I rushed past a table of volunteers out front. But CM’s patio vibe was giving: Hello Uncle will sell out fast. And no one wants to deal with this only child when I’ve fixed my mouth for something I can’t have — 10 toes down on the cold shoulder it is. 

As someone who prefers dark meat and flats (only) well done, the “light, bright and damn near white” hues of khao man gai conjured a forehead scrunch and a side eye the first time I pulled up to CM for Hello Uncle’s pop up. 

But when I tell you that pale, poached poultry dish had me whispering “Say uncle” as I scraped the last grain of rice from my plate, I’m not lying. 

The silky smooth slices of chicken practically melted in my mouth, each bite a delicate burst of flavor. The rice, infused with the love and essence of its chicken broth, was perfectly cooked — so satisfying it could stand alone. 

The Singapore chili and khao man gai sauce delivered on all the tangy, funky, spicy goodness we crave in Thai food — slap yo’ mama good! The cucumber, cabbage and cilantro added a refreshing color pop and texture, creating the ultimate comforting bite.

With my order placed and anxiety at bay, I could finally relax into the familiar coziness of Common Market. Stickered walls, disjointed decor, quirky munchies, random tchotchkes and the graffitied back patio — all unchanged and unapologetic. 

Regulars bellied up to the bar, chatting about their day between mouthfuls of chicken and rice, and the wine fridge was exactly where I had left it. Every detail was a reminder of the quiet resistance and resilience of Midwood’s bests.

Read more: Blake Barnes Celebrates 20 Years at Common Market Plaza Midwood

Do I still prefer my chicken and Plaza Midwood with a healthy dose of melanin and a charred personality? You already know. But in an ever-changing city, sometimes the things you don’t know you need — like a perfectly poached plate of khao man gai at a local staple — are exactly what the doctor ordered. 

And if the QC’s evolution means I get to savor the spots I love more, maybe I can learn to roll with the change, just a little bit.