My Ah-ma’s Ketchup Fried Rice

I remember a story about my Grandma (my Ah-ma) or I sort of remember it. It was after World War 2 (my Grandma was born in 1926). Something about her having to carry my Mom or Uncle(s) across a long bridge to get to the other side of where she was going. A stranger stopped her & offered to help her carry some of the stuff she had on top of her kids. My Grandma being the person that she is gave him this one bag, and the stranger made off with the bag (theft masked as a kind gesture). Little did the stranger know that what was inside the bag was poop from the kids. That explains a lot about the type of person my Grandma was. Alone, on her back, she was willing to carry her own kids & all of her possessions, regardless of how long, hard, far the journey was. My Grandma would get up at 5am every day. She would spend every day cooking, sewing/patching up clothes, taking care of us. She was never lazy. Probably the dish of hers that I miss the most is her “dan bao fan” or ketchup fried rice wrapped in an egg omelette. That comfort food dish is a pop culture phenomenon in itself. Ketchup from America (or does it come from England originally idk)? Fried rice (Chinese in origin), but the grains of rice are a medium/short grain variety much more Japanese in nature (as are probably the origins of the dish). Popularized in western style cafes/diners in Japan & brought to Taipei probably? I’ve had ketchup fried rice in Tokyo (near the Tsukiji Fish Market), I’ve had it in Taipei at this OG bi-level spot that my Mom has been going to since she was a kid. There’s a row of woks (all “dan bao fan” or udon going when it’s busy), a heavier set dude (The Bows) watching the cooks. The whole place is so retro, a cultural experience in itself. But I still like my Grandma’s ketchup fried rice the best. Why? She would probably start the pan with some lard, crispy fried shallots, thin slices of pork. Then you toss the rice with all of that flavor to coat. But adding enough Ketchup is the key (and it’s never as good when some place uses a cheap, no-name brand ketchup). And the egg omelette you do separately, have it ready on the plate to wrap the Ketchup fried rice in). Makes me hungry just thinking about it now (and a plate of French fries would go perfectly with it, especially if it were 2am).

I digress or maybe this is just how I tell stories I guess, kind of whatever comes to me but also has a point & comes together eventually. How my Grandma was explains a lot about my character & who I modeled my work/life ethic after. My Grandma could probably carry 2 sticks with bamboo leaf wrapped zongzi across 2 bridges, up a mountain & all the way up to a temple. I guess I’m the modern version of that. She hated being lazy (Japanese discipline/work ethic). I remember my French culinary school professor who also hated laziness. I guess that’s where I get it from. Even when I relax, I don’t like to be lazy.

Back to the original story, when the stranger asked my Grandma if he could carry anything for, I know what my Grandma was thinking. Clearly, my Grandma wasn’t a very trusting person. She figured hey if he wants to lessen my load a bit, ok, but she calculated the risk (if he made off with it, all she would lose was a bag of poop). Not a bad gamble I guess. In that sense, I can be like my Grandma, but in other ways, I’m more like my Mom. Under the right circumstances, I can be a very trusting person. And I love people/I guess that’s the difference between me&my Grandma. And the way my life is these days, I guess I think a lot more metaphorically. The “dan bao fan” or omelette wrapped Ketchup fried rice is very me. Is it American, Taiwanese, Chinese, Japanese or an amalgamation of all those cultures? It’s very simple, but very complex. Here I am pondering identity metaphorically (I’ve already overthought it). But hey at least it made think of the French fries, which would go perfectly with it as a late night snack.

*Don’t have a picture of her Ketchup fried rice here/so putting in a pic of her favorite pineapple cakes.