-
Notifications
You must be signed in to change notification settings - Fork 0
Expand file tree
/
Copy pathlevel64.html
More file actions
165 lines (156 loc) · 9.98 KB
/
Copy pathlevel64.html
File metadata and controls
165 lines (156 loc) · 9.98 KB
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head meta charset="utf-8">
<title>Tomatoes & Eggs</title>
<meta charset="utf-8" />
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1" />
<link rel="icon" type="image/png" href="images/icon.png"/></head>
<style>
body{
background-color:rgb(79, 110, 77);
color: antiquewhite;
}
.title{
position: sticky;
top: 0;
padding-left: 5%;
padding-right: 5%;
font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;
font-size: 8vw;
}
.ttext{
position: sticky;
top: 0;
padding-left: 5%;
padding-right: 5%;
font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;
font-size: 4vw;
}
.popup-img
{
position: absolute;
top: 25%;
left: 50%;
transform: translate(-50%, 10px); /* Adjust the position of the image */
visibility: hidden;
opacity: 0;
transition: opacity 0.3s ease;
}
.hover-text:hover + .popup-img{
visibility: visible;
opacity: 1;
}
.te{
background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, tomato, rgb(251, 215, 82));
-webkit-background-clip: text;
-webkit-text-fill-color: transparent;
}
</style>
<body>
<section>
<div class="title">
<!-- <span style="color: tomato">Tomatoes</span> and <span style="color: rgb(251, 215, 82)">Eggs</span> -->
<span class="hover-text" style="font-weight: bolder">The Stir-Fried <span class="te">Tomatoes and Eggs</span></span>
<img class="popup-img" style="top: 0% ; left: 5% ; width: 200px" src="level5/images/tdish1.png" alt="tomato and egg dish">
<span class="hover-text" style="font-weight: bolder">My Chinese Mother Made</span>
<img class="popup-img" style="top: 25% ; left: 50% ; width: 150px" src="level5/images/mom.JPEG" alt="photo of my mom">
By Francis Lam
<br>
Feb. 2, 2017
</div>
</section>
<section>
<div class="ttext">
<br>
Over the past two years of writing this column about immigrants and their food,
I've cooked with a Filipina nurse who used scalpels to debone chicken;
a Senegalese family that eats out of the same dish to emphasize everyone's responsibility to one another;
a Mexican Popsicle maker who tried to heal the ache of her divorce by sharing literal sweetness.
There was a Slovakian pierogi master whose last act before leaving for the United States was opening the barn doors to set her animals free;
a Polish vegetarian who learned to make bigos, a meatfest of a stew, just so she could share her mother's recipe;
and a Palestinian family that lives the American dream by hosting a Thanksgiving every night.
</div>
</section>
<section>
<div class="ttext">
<br>
As a writer, I wrote this column feeling honored to be entrusted with their stories.
And as the child of Chinese immigrants, I wrote this column looking up to my subjects — as I do to my own parents — for <i>carrying the burden of living between two worlds</i>.
For finding their footing while having to bridge where they're from with where they are.
</div>
</section>
<section>
<div class="ttext">
<br>
I've been thinking about this because this is my last column for the magazine — another dream project beckons, which I hope you'll hear more about soon —
but also because of <span class="hover-text">tomatoes</span>
<img class="popup-img" style="position: fixed ; top: 10% ; left: 15%; width: 200px" src="level5/images/tomato.png" alt="tomato">
and
<span class="hover-text">eggs</span>.
<img class="popup-img" style="position: fixed ; top: 50% ; left: 80%; width: 200px" src="level5/images/egg.png" alt="egg">
</div>
</section>
<section>
<div class="ttext">
<br>
<span class="hover-text">A few weeks ago, I felt a sudden, irresistible craving for Chinese stir-fried <span class="te">tomatoes and eggs</span></span>.
<img class="popup-img" style="position: fixed ; top: 50% ; left: 50%; width: 200px" src="level5/images/tdish2.png" alt="tomato and egg dish">
A dish of <span style="font-style: oblique 40deg;">savory</span>, <span style="font-style: oblique 50deg;">sweet-tart</span> tomato sauce folded around soft-scrambled eggs, it hits <span style="font-style: oblique 90deg;">every</span> pleasure center in the brain and makes it easy to scarf down a lot of rice, fast.
When I worked in Chinatown, it was a staple of every $4 buffet in the neighborhood. A version of it with beef was my younger brother's favorite food when we were growing up, and by “favorite food,” I mean it was basically the only thing he would eat for the first eight years of his life.
(So much so that once, for some reason clear only to jerk older brothers, I squirted ketchup into his apple juice to make fun of him. We fought, he won, I drank the juice.)
</div>
</section>
<section>
<div class="ttext">
<br>
It's the kind of dish that people say is the first thing they learned to cook, that <i>fed them</i> when they left home, that inspires sudden and irresistible cravings.
But when my hunger struck, I had no idea how to make it. I looked in my Chinese cookbooks, but it appeared in exactly none of them.
Calling up my mother to ask her, I knew, would be like asking her to describe how to tie shoelaces: almost impossible to articulate, buried so deep in her muscle memory.
In Chinese cooking, this dish is like air, <i>present and invisible</i>.
</div>
</section>
<section>
<div class="ttext">
<br>
I knew that I wasn't going to figure out a recipe for it, because I realized that my not knowing how to make this dish was akin to my Cantonese getting rusty, to not knowing when Chinese New Year is every year.
<span class="hover-text">It's because I'm not an immigrant, only a son of immigrants, and so I know only the frayed facsimile of the world that my parents grew up in.
Being part of a culture without living in it is like being in a long-distance relationship. </span>
<img class="popup-img" style="position: fixed ; top: 10% ; left: 15%; width: 400px" src="level5/images/family.JPG" alt="Photo of family members in Taiwan">
You can make it work with grand displays of affection and splendid visits, but you don't get to have coffee together on a Sunday morning — the little things, the stuff daily life is built on.
I knew that if I were to have this recipe, it would have to come to me through my people or not at all.
</div>
</section>
<section>
<div class="ttext">
<br>
<span class="hover-text">So I went online and found recipe after recipe, with an eye toward cobbling together my own. I read the cookbook author <a href="https://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/stir-fried-egg-and-tomato-352835">Genevieve Ko's version</a>
and took from it the idea of just lightly cooking the eggs before finishing them in the tomatoes</span>.
<img class="popup-img" style="position: fixed ; top: 10% ; left: 15%; width: 400px" src="level5/images/tdish4.png" alt="Genevieve Ko's tomato and egg dish">
<span class="hover-text">I read <a href="https://www.seriouseats.com/chichi-wang-5118603">Chichi Wang's version</a>, on Serious Eats,
and lifted her brilliant use of fragrant rice wine in the eggs</span>
<img class="popup-img" style="position: fixed ; top: 50% ; right: 15%; width: 300px" src="level5/images/ricewine.png" alt="rice wine">
and <span class="hover-text">ketchup in the sauce</span>.
<img class="popup-img" style="position: fixed ; bottom: 10% ; left: 10%; width: 300px" src="level5/images/ketchup.png" alt="ketchup bottle">
I read dozens of blog posts, mostly relating the same story over and over again —
<span class="hover-text" style="font-style: oblique 40deg">a story of nostalgia, of Mom's cooking, of home.</span>
<img class="popup-img" style="position: fixed ; top: 50% ; right: 15%; width: 300px" src="level5/images/homecooking.JPG" alt="last thanksgiving dinner at home">
I read the comments, also telling the same: <span style="font-style: oblique 90deg">Thank you, thank you, I've missed this dish, thank you, thank you. </span>And after all this reading, I started to realize what I was really seeing:
people, just like me, missing a knowledge that they <span style="font-style: oblique 40deg">felt should be in their bones</span>, coming to someone else's recipes to connect them to where they came from while being rooted in where they are.
</div>
</section>
<section>
<div class="ttext" style="text-align: end; font-size: 2vw;">
<br>
Recipe: <a href="https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1018570-chinese-stir-fried-tomatoes-and-eggs">Chinese Stir-Fried <span class="te">Tomatoes and Eggs</span></a>
<br>
Original article: <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/02/02/magazine/the-stir-fried-tomatoes-and-eggs-my-chinese-mother-made.html"> The Stir-Fried <span class="te">Tomatoes and Eggs</span> My Chinese Mother Made</a>
<br>
My family's favorite recipe: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_YkQSTvjLk">小高姐的 番茄炒蛋 烹饪基础系列 </a>
</div>
</section>
<div>
<!-- return to home -->
<a href="project1.html"><img src=toys/chicken.png style ="position: sticky; width: 10%; bottom: 10px"></a>
</div>
</body>
</html>