As a child, whenever I came home from tutorial lessons, I would dash to the kitchen looking for food. Most of the times, granny caught me in action. She always offered to make me an egg fried rice. Knowing I was really hungry, she quickly but skillfully poured a bowl of cold rice to the heated wok, added an egg, and stirred while mixing the two essential ingredients together. Soon the air was filled with wok-hei, a smoky fragrant imparted by a hot wok on food during stir frying. Within seconds, viola, a bowl of hot and tasty egg fried rice was served. I devoured happily. Granny’s egg fried rice was nothing fancy, yet no dish could replace it, not even dishes from three-Michelin-Star restaurants. Granny passed away over ten years ago. Whenever I see a bowl of egg fried rice, I would be reminded of her unconditional love and kindness to my siblings and me.
