Rice and Eggs

When I was little, I hated fried egg. The runniness of the yolk ( or la yemita) freaked me out as a child, and I always preferred my eggs scrambled on a buttered piece of tostada. Yet somehow, whenever my father had a plate of arroz con huevo frito, I always wanted to take a bite from his plate. Something about that simple little meal pleased him so much, and I too, wanted to savor the sunshine on the clouds explosion of taste that he so thoroughly seemed to enjoy. With all the cuisine my mother expertly prepared ( and expertly she did, my mother learned most of her cooking through our puerto rican, cuban, dominican and Italian neighbors in the building and through her years as a New York City waitress) he would requestarroz con huevo frito on the randomness of days.The only part of the frito I liked was the white part.. especially when it turned brown and crispy.So the inevitable would always be me taking a bite of the yellow/rice mixture and just as quickly spitting it out...then picking at the edges of the egg white while my dad yelled back to my mother that I was spitting out his dinner again.

When my parents divorced I never really requested for huevo frito. It was amazing to me when people loved the yemita cause I always associated being a kid and hating the texture and the taste. Whenever I told people I didn't like the egg yolk it was always, " are you kidding me? especially when you soak your bread in it?!" I tried it a couple of times and found it tolerable...and began to order it for breakfast from time to time.

When I got older and returned home to visit my dad, I would ask him to make it just so that I can eat some off his plate. This simple cuban dish that pleased this thin little cuban man effortlessly...it made me laugh at times.

Lately, whenver I miss him or just wish he was around for me to talk to him about everything and anything under the sun ( and if I've told any of you anything about my father, it was that I could tell him anything..whether I did so or not was a different story. But the option was there.) I make myself a plate of arroz con huevo frito. ..yeah I fry it a little more than necessary to cook the yemita thoroughly ( i still cant stand the taste of it runny..yuck). I love to cook...and for some reason huevo frito is sometimes hard for me to do..I dont turn it right, the yemita gets too overcooked or I leave it halfway runny- I can grill, bake, roast, feed an army with all the cooking I love to do..

but sometimes I can't even fry an egg.

And there was nothing I enjoyed more yesterday than sitting outside at night, eating my small plate of nostalgia, the jasmine and myrtle twinging the hot, sticky summer air, and wishing I had a hammock so I could lay down and remember a time when I could still steal pieces of white and yellow happiness off of my father's plate