Taken from: Seeing Emily by Joyce Lee Wong
*Don't go into the restaurant business.
Baba says, the hours are long
the work is ku, bitter.
and the better business is,
the harder you work.

Baba thought our restaurant
would do well in this neighborhood.
Business isn't bad,
but it's hard to find a chef around here
who knows wok cooking.
So Baba, Mama, and I often cook.

The kitchen's always hotter
than an August afternoon.
Oil crackles and spits
when you drop chopped
vegetables and meat
into the waiting wok.
over the sizzling din,
the sharp scrape of metal on metal
as you stir-fry slabs of chicken or beef,
then chunks of tofu, slices of bamboo,
pea pods and water chestnuts,
always keeping the pieces moving
over the rippling, flaming heat.

with the oil in the wok
at 375 degrees for deep-frying,
you try to be careful,
but sometimes on a busy weekend night,
when the roar of the customers' conversation
follows you into the kitchen,
and your feet start to tire
and your back and arms complain
but the orders keep coming fast,
hot oil can leap up, lightning-quick toward you,
spattering your clothing or skin;
we've all ben burned in the kitchen.*