By Six years since my first day at Amazon. (Five years since I started writing. Different clocks. Both running.) The week was unremarkable in the best way — long quiet evenings, early bedtimes, James on a deadline for a review cycle so we ate simply: bibimbap on Monday, leftover pot roast from Karen's freezer on Tuesday, kimchi fried rice on Wednesday, James's beef noodle soup reheated on Thursday, pizza on Friday because Friday.
The cherry blossoms are starting on Quad at the University of Washington. James and I drove up on Sunday morning and walked through the trees with everyone else — half of Seattle comes for the bloom, and you cannot avoid the tourism of it, and I no longer try. We bought coffee from a cart on the Ave and walked slowly and did not say very much. I am learning that there are weeks in a marriage (not that we are married yet; not that we aren't, depending on how you count) where the thing you are doing is accumulating small shared pictures. The walk under the trees. The coffee carried back to the car. The way he opens the passenger door for me that has never felt like performance.
No email from the database. Four weeks, five weeks, now seven. The timeline said four to six months. I have weeks to go. Probably months.
I have been thinking about what kind of food I would cook if Jisoo somehow visited Seattle and I cooked for her. An unrealistic thought exercise, because she has not written, and because she may never come. But I have been thinking about it anyway, assembling a menu in my head: rice I cooked myself in my own rice cooker, kimchi I fermented in my own kitchen, doenjang jjigae because I have gotten good at it, maybe japchae because I am still learning but want to impress, a plate of Korean-style fried egg because it is simple and a good egg is one of the ways you tell someone you were paying attention. I know this is a daydream. I know. I am allowed daydreams.
Karen's tremors have been worse this week. David mentioned it casually on Thursday and I called him right back and asked what the doctor had said and he said, "Nothing yet. She doesn't want to go until she has to." Karen has always been this way — a woman who does not make a fuss. I am going to drive out there next weekend and cook dinner for them. I told David this. He said, "She'd like that."
Dr. Yoon this week asked me about Hana. Not by name. She said, "If you have a daughter someday, what do you want for her?" I said I want her to never feel the emptiness I felt. I want her to know where she comes from in her mouth, in her hands, in her body. I want her to be able to eat food that tastes like her own history without having to teach herself how to want it. I said this without pausing, without crying, without thinking — it came out in one breath, like it had been waiting. Dr. Yoon wrote it down. She rarely writes things down.
The recipe this week is a simple kimchi fried rice — cold rice, chopped kimchi with the juice, sesame oil, soy sauce, a fried egg. It is what James made me on Wednesday when I was tired and he saw it. He set the bowl in front of me without saying anything. That is the recipe. Pay attention. Set the bowl down.
James set that bowl of kimchi fried rice in front of me without fanfare, and what got me was the egg — fried just right, yolk still soft, placed on top like a period at the end of a sentence. It made me think about all the ways a single egg can be an act of attention. These spinach-egg breakfast pizzas follow that same quiet logic: a handful of good ingredients, an egg cracked carefully on top, and the understanding that simple food, made with intention, is its own kind of language.
Spinach-Egg Breakfast Pizzas
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 English muffins, split and toasted
- 1/2 cup marinara or pizza sauce
- 2 cups fresh baby spinach, roughly chopped
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 clove garlic, minced
- 1/2 cup shredded part-skim mozzarella cheese
- 8 large eggs
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- Pinch of red pepper flakes (optional)
Instructions
- Preheat. Heat oven to 400°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper and arrange the toasted English muffin halves cut-side up.
- Wilt the spinach. In a small skillet over medium heat, warm the olive oil and add the garlic. Cook 30 seconds until fragrant, then add the spinach and toss until just wilted, about 1–2 minutes. Remove from heat.
- Build the pizzas. Spread about 1 tablespoon of marinara onto each muffin half. Divide the wilted spinach evenly among them, then sprinkle each with mozzarella.
- Add the eggs. Carefully crack one egg onto each muffin half, keeping the yolk intact and centered. Season with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes if using.
- Bake. Transfer the baking sheet to the oven and bake 12–14 minutes, until the egg whites are fully set but the yolks are still slightly soft. Check at 12 minutes — a runny yolk is the whole point.
- Serve. Remove from oven and serve immediately. No garnish needed. Set the plate down.
Nutrition (per serving, 2 muffin halves)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 19g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 29g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 520mg