I've been doing Chinese-style cooking at home since I was a graduate student in the 1970s; I do the best I can with my western-style gas stove and traditional Chinese cookware. Today my wife asked me to cook tonight's dinner for the four of us, only mentioning it as we went to the market, so I improvised. I have quite a few Chinese cookbooks, mostly in English, but I rarely use them any more, and in this situati Today my wife asked me to cook tonight’s dinner for the four of us, only mentioning it as we went to the market, so I improvised. I have quite a few Chinese cookbooks, mostly in English, but I rarely use them any more, and in this situation consulting a recipe was not a possibility.I felt like cooking chicken (ji in Mandarin using pinyin romanization), so I picked out a package of boneless chicken breast, about a pound and half, and checked the expiration date. Chicken for stir-frying (chao) really needs to be fresh.Then I went to the vegetable section, looked around at what was available and looked nice, and picked out a medium-sized bok choy (bai cai, pronounced “buy tsai”), a couple of nice-looking green peppers, some shiitake mushrooms (xiang gu), a bunch of scallions, a can of peanuts, and a small package of fresh ginger root. I knew that I had plenty of long-grained rice, peanut oil, chicken broth, corn starch, soy sauce, rice wine, sesame oil, red oil, coarse salt, and San-J Sichuan sauce at home. I also knew that I was out of most of the other prepared Chinese sauces that I sometimes use, but I didn’t feel the need to buy more. Cooking a meal like this takes me an hour start to finish. I started at 5:30 by putting two cups of rice and four cups of water into a large saucepan that has a tight-fitting cover. I put that on the stove to soak.I got out my stainless-steel mixing bowls, a Teflon cutting board, my Chinese cleaver (dao), and my fresh ingredients, and set them on the kitchen table. I lined up the oils and sauces and spices on the counter in the order I’d use them. I put my heavy, well-seasoned carbon-steel wok (guo) on its ring on the largest burner on the stove, and laid out my extra-long cooking chopsticks and the wok turner and ladle nearby. The wok ring is what lets me use a traditional round-bottomed guo (essential for getting enough heat to the ingredients) on a western-style gas burner.I set to work slicing and chopping the meat and vegetables into roughly the same size pieces. I felt like doing slices (pien) today; other times I might dice (ding) the ingredients into small cubes, or reslice the slices into shreds (si). At about 5:50 I lit a high flame under the white rice (bai fan), and went back to my slicing. When I heard the water boiling, I covered the pot and turned down the flame to low, and again went back to my slicing.At about 6:15 I lit a high flame under the guo and lined up my bowls of ingredients. When the guo started to smoke I added some cold peanut oil, enough to puddle at the bottom of the guo. When the oil looked like it was heating up, I checked it with my cooking chopsticks: no bubbles yet. Half a minute later there were bubbles around the chopsticks when I checked the oil, so I added the ginger slices and scallion pieces and stirred that sizzling mix with my chopsticks. When they were brown, I added the chicken and switched from the chopsticks to the turner and ladle to keep the fry stirred. Sometimes I take the cooked ginger and scallion out before adding the meat, leaving only their flavor and aroma in the oil, but this time I felt like leaving them in.When the chicken pieces were all white outside with a little brown, and had no pink showing, I added the bai cai and peppers. I stirred this up with the meat. Sometimes I push the meat to the side while I cook the vegetables, but this time I tossed them all together. When the bai cai greens started to shrink, I added the mushrooms, a ladle full of rice wine, and some soy sauce. After tossing that a bit, I added some broth and put the cover on the guo, since I wanted to have lots of sauce. If I wanted a drier dish, I’d skip the broth and not cover the guo. As soon as I heard the broth boil, I took the covers off the guo and the rice, and turned off the flame under the rice. I added the rest of my sauce ingredients and a handful of peanuts to the guo, tasted a piece of meat, added a bit more salt and red oil, and stirred until the sauce thickened. Then I turned off the flame, set a container of chopsticks and a pile of napkins on the table, called my family, and served out four bowls of white rice covered with stir-fried chicken, vegetables, and peanuts in a savory sauce.We all had seconds. Software Development