A fast, simple, and cheap dish that will comfort anyone and is even better on top of a bed of rice.

Time:

Prep ~ 5min Cook ~ 5 min Total ~ 10min Serving Size: Two People

Ingredients:

- 2 Large Red Juicy Tomatoes

- 4 Medium-sized Eggs

- 3/4 tsp salt

- 1/4 tsp white pepper

- 1/2 tsp sesame oil

- 1 tsp Cornstarch

- 3 tbsp vegetable oil (divided)

- 2 tsp sugar

- 1/3 cup water

Step 1: Cut the tomatoes into wedges.

The thicker the slices, the better. A sharp knife can cut straight through; a blunt knife might take more effort to cut - just like words. Often behind closed doors, my father would speak about the anxiety I bring, whether it be through school or test scores - always about education. Though he might not have realized, the walls are thin. I heard everything. Sometimes, if he were distraught - and had some alcohol in him - he would shout in my face about everything I did wrong. Those words stung more.

Step 2: In a bowl, crack and whisk the four eggs, adding 1⁄4 tsp of salt, white pepper, and sesame oil.

Be careful not to crack any eggshells into the bowl. Or onto the floor, as I would often have to walk on eggshells when talking with my father about friends, gossip, or anything other than my education.

Step 3: In a hot pan with two tablespoons of vegetable oil, on medium heat, pour in the eggs and scramble. Take out of the pan once cooked.

Make sure to leave some big chunks of egg still. Bigger chunks add more variety. However, it was the opposite at home. I often only spoke about little chunks of my day. It was a game where I had to carefully scramble together succinct moments of my day's events.

Step 4: Add another tablespoon of oil to the pan on high heat, and add the cut tomatoes along with the sugar, water, and the rest of the salt and sesame oil. Stir-fry for 1 minute.

Ensure the pan is hot so all the liquid in the tomatoes comes out. As the days get closer to deadlines, such as college applications or grades coming out, the tension between my father and I gets heated. Our conversations always end up with our faces tomato red as we scream and fight. We spit fire until our conversation sizzles out, leaving us without energy.

Step 5: Add the eggs and cornstarch into the pan with the tomatoes. Mix everything until the tomatoes become soft and jammy.

 Unlike each other, these two ingredients combine to make this sweet, tangy, salty, soft, pillowy dish. Tears run down my face while my father removes his glasses, trying to gather his thoughts and energy to start yelling again. Just in time – as always – my mother returns home from work. The shouting stops, and the tears begin to dry off. If our voices rise during dinner, my mother slaps my father’s arm, signaling him to quiet down. Our two stubborn minds would not back down from the fight, yet when my mother came in, she stood between us, refereeing our conversation.

Step 6: Plate and serve.

The dish appears beautiful in pictures with the vibrant red and yellow colors. But the dish

has so much depth and flavors beneath that simple photo. We all smile together on the outside, like a typical happy family. Yet the strain grows between my father and me. We can be sweet at times. But we can also be sour, the tension radiating throughout the house. The key ingredient to this dish, is the cornstarch – my mother – which makes the sweet, the tang, and other contrasting opinions and thoughts come together.