Although my mother cooked daily Chinese meals based on whatever meats and vegetables were fresh, on weekends, my father would make chow mein 炒麵 (chǎomiàn), which literally means fried noodles, egg fried rice 蛋炒飯 (dàn chǎofàn) with ham and peas, a big bowl of spaghetti or dishes he invented such as the all-popular Chili Mac. My favorite was this chow mein noodle cake, which was usually served with a lightly sauced stir-fry of julienned pork strips and vegetables.
Shortcut to the Love2Chow recipe.
Shortcut to the Love2Chow recipe.
My father, who was enthusiastic and had a flair for the dramatic, would call us over when he was ready to flip the chow mein. He would walk out of the kitchen holding the 12-inch stainless steel frying pan, heavy to the rim with 8 servings of noodles, in one hand. With the other hand tucked behind his back, he would flip the cake high up into the air and then catch it with a flourish.
In my mid-teens, I would come home famished. So he taught me how to cook and flip my own personal sized chow mein noodle cake using a smaller 8-10 inch pan. Back in those days, I did not properly appreciate the spirit or soul of a good stir-fry (wok hay-鑊氣). Rather than learn how to handle fresh vegetables and meat, I topped my noodle cake with crispy cubes of spam cooked right into the cake and a smooth-melting farmer's cheese similar to Monterey jack.