Kim Chi Fried Rice
I love you.
I would love you even without the SPAM, which is saying a lot because I also adore SPAM.
You were the dish that started my appreciation for kim chi, this ridiculous concentration of spices and fermentation into one lucky cabbage. It is astounding how you can smother white rice in your sweet tang, and still pack a helluva punch in your own pickled leaves.
It is a painful love, to love you, because I’m pretty sure I’ll give my stomach ulcers if I eat you too much. I might break my sweat glands too, especially the ones on my nose. It burns everywhere, but I keep on coming back.
The fried egg on top is the perfect compliment to your spicy abuse. I’ve tried to recreate you at home many times, but I can never get the perfectly balanced yolk cooked thoroughly but still runny. The yolk covers my palate and allows me to see the light between the glimpses of hot red flashes. You’re even more important when the chef confuses me for a Korean gal and thinks I could actually handle the amount of red chili paste he puts in it. LOLOLOL.
I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.
