Fried rice and I go way back. When I was a kid (and still, actually) my brother and I LOVED going to the hibachi restaurant near our house. We always seemed to choose it for our birthday celebration dinners, when my dad was travelling for work and my mom wanted a break from cooking, and essentially any time we had a say in things. The chef would throw pieces of shrimp in the air for us to catch with our mouths (I am terrible at this), we would order Shirley Temples to drink, and I would watch in amazement as they cooked our food on the giant, piping hot grill in front of us. "I want to have one of those in my kitchen some day," I thought. The best fried rice, always at your fingertips... sounds like a dream come true.
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