Post-Thanksgiving and I survived. The word "survived" is dramatic for a holiday dinner but accurate for a woman with anxiety and fresh grief who managed to cook a meal and eat it and not collapse on the kitchen floor, which is where I have been spending a concerning amount of time this year. The kitchen floor and I have a relationship now. It is where I go when the standing is too much. It is where I sit when the chairs are too formal. The kitchen floor is the most honest surface in the apartment — it does not pretend to be comfortable. It just holds you.
I made Fumiko's tamagoyaki every day this week. Every single day. Not because I needed tamagoyaki for seven breakfasts but because the rolling — the pour, the fold, the turn, the pour, the fold, the turn — is a meditation that I cannot achieve any other way. The repetition calms me. The precision focuses me. The result — golden, layered, slightly sweet — is proof that I can make something beautiful even when I am not beautiful inside. Even when I am a mess of grief and anxiety and a marriage that is dying the way marriages die: not in a moment but in an accumulation of moments, each one too small to be a crisis and too heavy to be nothing.
I wrote about tamagoyaki for the blog — the most detailed post I have ever written, step by step, with the precision that Fumiko's card demands. "Roll thin. Roll tight. Do not rush." I added my own instruction at the end: "If it tears, start again. If it burns, start again. If it is not right, start again. Starting again is not failure. Starting again is the whole point." The blog readers responded to the "start again" with an enthusiasm that told me they were not reading about eggs. They were reading about themselves. They were reading about the permission to fail and try again and fail and try again, and the permission was what they needed, and the eggs were just the vehicle.
December approaches. The osechi preparations will begin. The kuromame will soak. The New Year will arrive, the first without Fumiko, the first without her phone call, the first without her critique of my ozoni. I am not ready. I will never be ready. I will do it anyway. Readiness is overrated. Persistence is the Nakamura way.
The tamagoyaki kept me going this week, but it was the rice underneath —quick, warm, and forgiving —that made each plate feel like a real meal instead of just an exercise in surviving. Instant Fried Rice is exactly what I reach for when I need something that comes together fast but still asks something of me: a hot pan, a little attention, the smell of egg hitting oil. It is not Fumiko’s recipe, but it is the kind of food she would have approved of —practical, nourishing, nothing wasted.
Instant Fried Rice
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 2
Ingredients
- 2 cups cooked white rice, preferably day-old
- 2 large eggs, lightly beaten
- 1/2 cup frozen peas and carrots, thawed
- 2 green onions, thinly sliced
- 2 tablespoons soy sauce
- 1 tablespoon sesame oil
- 1 tablespoon neutral oil (vegetable or canola)
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/4 teaspoon white pepper
- Salt to taste
Instructions
- Heat the pan. Place a large skillet or wok over high heat. Add the neutral oil and let it heat until shimmering, about 1 minute.
- Scramble the eggs. Pour the beaten eggs into the hot pan. Let them set slightly, then scramble with a spatula into loose, soft curds. Push to one side of the pan.
- Add the vegetables. Add the peas and carrots to the empty side of the pan and stir-fry for 1 to 2 minutes until heated through and beginning to color at the edges.
- Add the rice. Add the cooked rice, breaking up any clumps with the back of your spatula. Toss everything together with the eggs and vegetables and press the rice against the hot surface in intervals to develop some light crispiness, about 3 to 4 minutes.
- Season. Drizzle the soy sauce and sesame oil over the rice. Sprinkle in the garlic powder and white pepper. Toss well to coat every grain evenly.
- Finish and serve. Remove from heat. Fold in the sliced green onions. Taste and adjust salt as needed. Serve immediately while hot.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 380 | Protein: 13g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 780mg