The Earliest Personal Kitchen Memory

The earliest personal food memory would go back to that afternoon when I thought to fry an egg. Right just one egg. Not two like how I do it for as long as I have done these days. I remember how I spooned in the oil from my parent’s greasy forever leftover oil (always saving the deep fried oil for later cooking) jar. And the spoon being so tiny. Today I would understand why. Saving the last drop it was.

I could still see the egg fall in the wok creating a bright orangy flower. Magically and surely the flower would get bigger and fluffier and I would smell that one and only most enchanting smell that would come from a frying egg. No other scent would compare. From then to today. The seemed only a day in between.