Kimchi Fried Rice

Back at LSU and the second half of the semester is where things get serious. Chemistry 1202 has moved into equilibrium and acid-base chemistry, which is the section that separates the pre-med students who will survive organic chemistry from the ones who will rethink their life plans. I am going to survive. Not because I am smarter than the material — the material is smarter than everyone — but because I am more stubborn than the material, and stubbornness, MawMaw Shirley taught me, is a virtue when applied to the right things. Roux requires stubbornness. Medicine requires stubbornness. Equilibrium requires understanding that opposing forces can coexist, which is something I learned not in a chemistry lecture but at a kitchen table in Scotlandville where Mama's efficiency and MawMaw Shirley's patience were two opposing forces that produced, in me, a cook who is both fast and thorough. Equilibrium.

Priya and I have developed a ritual: Sunday evening, dorm kitchen, one pot of something. She provides the company. I provide the cooking. We talk about the week — what went well, what did not, what we are afraid of, what we are proud of — and the talking happens while I stir and she sits on the counter and the kitchen smells like whatever I am making. This week it was jambalaya, the Monday recipe made on a Sunday because the tradition adapts to the schedule and the schedule does not always respect the tradition. Priya has started calling it "Sunday Therapy." She is not wrong.

Terrell left the study group this week. He has decided to switch from pre-med to pre-law, a decision that he announced with the calm of a person who has been thinking about it for months and has finally said it out loud. Nobody judged. Nobody argued. We understood. Pre-med is not for everyone, and knowing it is not for you is its own kind of intelligence. I will miss him at the table. I will not miss him in the field, because the field is competitive enough and every person who leaves creates space for the people who stay, and I am staying. I am always staying.

MawMaw Shirley called Sunday night. She said, "I used the notebook." The leather notebook I gave her at Christmas. She wrote down the gumbo recipe. "In case I forget," she said. MawMaw Shirley will not forget. Her memory is a vault. But she wrote it down anyway, because I asked, and because somewhere between the asking and the writing she understood what I understood: that the recipe on paper is not for her. It is for after. And "after" is a word we do not say, but we both know it is there, sitting in the kitchen like a guest we have not invited but cannot turn away.

The jambalaya I made for Priya that Sunday was already gone by Monday morning — scraped clean, which is the highest compliment a dorm kitchen has to offer — and what I kept thinking about afterward was how the dish did not need to be complicated to do its job. One pot. Good heat. Ingredients that trust each other. This Kimchi Fried Rice is cut from the same cloth: fast enough for a Sunday when your week is already breathing down your neck, and satisfying enough to make the talking easier, the way MawMaw Shirley always said food is supposed to. You bring the company. The pan handles the rest.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 2

Ingredients

2 cups day-old cooked white rice (cold, loosened with a fork)
1 cup kimchi, roughly chopped
3 tablespoons kimchi juice (from the jar)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon sesame oil
1 teaspoon gochujang or chili paste (optional, for heat)
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 green onions, thinly sliced, whites and greens separated
2 large eggs
1 tablespoon vegetable oil, divided
Sesame seeds, for garnish
Nori strips or a drizzle of extra sesame oil, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Mix the sauce. In a small bowl, stir together the soy sauce, kimchi juice, sesame oil, and gochujang if using. Set aside.
Fry the aromatics. Heat 1/2 tablespoon of vegetable oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add the garlic and the white parts of the green onions and stir-fry for about 30 seconds, until fragrant but not browned.
Add the kimchi. Add the chopped kimchi to the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, for 2—3 minutes until it softens slightly and begins to caramelize at the edges.
Fry the rice. Add the cold rice to the pan, breaking up any clumps with the back of a spatula. Spread it into an even layer and let it sit undisturbed for 1—2 minutes to develop some color on the bottom, then stir and repeat once more.
Season. Pour the sauce over the rice and toss everything together until the grains are evenly coated. Taste and adjust soy sauce or kimchi juice as needed. Keep warm on low heat.
Fry the eggs. In a separate small skillet, heat the remaining 1/2 tablespoon of oil over medium heat. Crack in the eggs and fry sunny-side up until the whites are fully set but the yolks are still runny, about 2—3 minutes.
Serve. Divide the rice between two bowls. Top each with a fried egg. Scatter the green onion tops and sesame seeds over everything. Add nori or an extra drizzle of sesame oil if you like. Eat immediately, ideally while someone else sits on the counter and talks to you about their week.

Nutrition (per serving)

Kimchi Fried Rice — One Pot, One Friend, One Sunday at a Time