Wok on the Road

I love our electric wok. It sat forgotten and alone in a kitchen cabinet for years, unused and unappreciated. One day in early June I heard a whisper. “Open the cabinet. Yes, this one, way over in the corner.” When I did and saw the black electric wok with its clear glass lid, a bright idea flashbulb popped.

The wok has gone on the road. It has become an essential tool for making our suppers when we have to stay at the Inn at Mayo in Jacksonville for Tom’s chemo. I’ve sauteed chicken thighs with shallots and mushrooms, cooked yellow squash, salmon, even spinach, and shrimp fried brown rice. All kinds of comfort food.

Tonight I used the smooth nonstick surface to do double duty: first it cooked a diced Idaho potato, onion, chopped garlic and oregano in a smidge of olive oil; then after I turned the potatoes out onto our plates, it scrambled eggs. We enjoyed that feast with toast, strawberry jam, and Earl Grey tea.

We’re in the bedroom now, reading books (well, I’m typing for a few minutes, then I’ll read). Tom has blood labs first thing, then a meeting with his hematologist/oncologist, then a fun-filled afternoon of Rituxian (Rituximab) and Treanda (Bendamustine).

He drove us the whole six and a half hours from Pensacola. He’s whipped, and I’m concerned because he has a little congestion and seems to be trying to get a sinus infection. Plus, the muscle area on the right side of his neck near the catheter for the Bard Power Port in his chest got sore several days ago and is growing more uncomfortable. Needless to say, I’m glad we’re here and that he’ll be seeing his doc in the morning. I’m sure he’ll be fine. I just hate for him to go into a chemo session not feeling well. He felt great Sunday; this came up suddenly.

A good night’s sleep can be powerful medicine, and our wok supper paved the way.

Hope all yall’s evening is peaceful and comfortable.


12 thoughts on “Wok on the Road

    1. Thank you, Mira. If one can love an inanimate object, I love this wok. It’s a one-pot wonder, and makes a motel room feel (and smell!) like a few molecules of home.


    1. It will, Sonia, I am sure. The doc prescribed an antibiotic which is nearly as tough as the bug, but at least Tom’s through cycle number 3, ate a bowl of oatmeal and buttered toast for supper, and is right beside me in our home away from home at the inn. Best of all, tomorrow I’ll drive us home and we won’t be “on the road again” to Jax for another 28 days. By then, it will be early September, and the mid-nineties temperatures will be on their way out. We might even begin to feel a touch of Fall in the air, which will be wonderful. Plus, we’ll be that much closer to completion of his treatment. 🙂 🙂 🙂


    1. Welcome aboard!! (I must confess, however, to using a regular pot tonight to cook our oatmeal. While wok-cooked oats might start a new culinary trend, they sound a little too crispy for a soft supper. Our nickname for oatmeal is “cruel gruel.”)


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