If you go down a dark, damp alleyway in the heart of Boston, through the loading dock door of the oldest grocery store in Chinatown, past the tiny Chinese woman quietly cutting Bok Choy and the man organizing live frogs and fresh Cod heads, up the rusted spiral stair case and past four walk-in refrigerators, across the 2nd floor wholesale storage space to an old freight elevator and up three floors, around stacked boxes of tea, assorted nuts, ginger, woven bags and other Chinese goods, and finally into a workshop, you will find a man called El Chino, and he will repair your surfboard. This is the story of his family’s grocery store and how he came to break away from the family business.