Shrimp & Steak Fried Rice

My strongest culinary opinion — besides the unforgivable crime of using cold butter — is that shrimp and steak fried rice is the most underrated, emotionally-supportive weeknight dish you will ever cook. Yes, I said emotionally-supportive. It hugs you with sesame oil and also judges your life choices.

The time the Thanksgiving bird stage-dived and I cried over rice

I once tried to make a “fancy” fried rice for Thanksgiving (because of course I did — who am I, Martha?), and somehow the turkey drama bled straight into the wok: smoke, proud char, and my mother loudly questioning whether I had a future in food. Long story short — it ended with smoke alarms, a casserole of guilt, and soggy memories. I learned three things that day: never confuse “high heat” with “arson,” always have a backup grain, and that rice — particularly day-old rice — will redeem you when everything else is theatrically failing.

Also: remember the lemon bars disaster of 2021? Let’s not repeat it here. (Okay wow, I’m already rambling. Two-word pivot: focus, Emily.)

Let’s talk fried rice

ANYWAY, before I spiral back into the tragicomedy of my kitchen exploits, this recipe is your ticket to golden, slightly crisped rice, sweet poppy shrimp, and tender steak ribbons that elbow each other for flavor supremacy. If you like bang-for-your-buck dinners that feel restaurant-class but are actually emotionally available, you’ll like this. If you have leftover roast from Thanksgiving, bring it. If you’re using night-before Trader Joe’s jasmine, also bring it — I forgive everything if the rice is cold and cooperative. Also, if you’re into other protein vibes, check out my easy grilled chicken avocado rice bowl for a sibling recipe that understands commitment issues.

Ingredient roll call (bring the goods) — and my mini-rants

• 2 cups cooked jasmine or basmati rice (preferably cold or day-old for best texture)
• 1/2 lb (225g) shrimp, peeled and deveined
• 1/2 lb (225g) steak (such as sirloin or flank), thinly sliced
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1 cup frozen peas and carrots, thawed
• 1/2 cup diced onion
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 2 large eggs, beaten
• 3 green onions, sliced
• 3 tablespoons soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon oyster sauce (optional)
• 1 teaspoon sesame oil

Mini-rants and shopping intel: I buy frozen peas and carrots at Trader Joe’s (bless their tiny freezers) and I will fight you on paying more for “premium” steak for fried rice — mid-range sirloin is a hero here. Oyster sauce is optional but sexy; if you want a seafood flex, don’t shy from it. Also, if you like charred shrimp, you might enjoy a BBQ twist — try this easy BBQ shrimp recipe for inspiration.

Cooking Unit Converter — quick conversions so your pan doesn’t revolt

Got a scale or a measuring cup? Here’s a tiny helper to keep your life sane.

Technique breakdown (not a step-by-step because I like chaos, but here’s the map)

You want heat. Like, aggressive heat that says “we mean business.” Toss oil into a screaming-hot wok or heavy skillet until it ripples; you should smell the beginning of caramelization, that tiny sweet promise. Sear the steak briefly — don’t overcook; we’re thin-sliced and opinionated. Remove, then shrimp in the same pan until pink and sassy, just a whisper of char. Push the pan around like you own it; edges of rice should flirt with crispness. Eggs go in like a curtain call, scrambled into ribbons that coat the grains. Add onions and garlic earlier if you crave sweeter depth, later if you want punch. Finish with soy, a little oyster sauce if you’re being indulgent, sesame oil for a perfume effect, and green onions thrown in like confetti.

Here’s what I learned the hard way:

• Use day-old rice or you’ll weep into a soggy bowl.
• Don’t crowd the pan; sear is life.
• Salt carefully — soy is already salty.
• Let the steak rest 3 minutes before slicing or you’ll lose all the juice (I cry every time).

Why this matters to me

Cooking is a map of memory for me — my dad’s laugh while testing soy sauce levels, neighborhood potlucks where my dish was the rowdy cousin, Thanksgiving experiments that went sideways but ended up delicious. Food anchors identity: it’s comfort after long shifts, shared plates with friends who become chosen family, and the small rituals (chopping, smelling garlic) that make life feel stitched together. This fried rice is less a recipe and more a hug shaped like dinner.

The thin-sliced steak that stole Christmas

My neighbor ate half my test batch once and then texted me a photo the next day of an empty container on their porch with a Post-it that said “don’t ever stop.” I framed the Post-it in my head. Two-word moral: feed neighbors.

Frequently Asked Questions — chaotic edition

Okay I’ll stop talking now. This recipe will rescue weeknights, soothe relatives after turkey meltdowns, and make you feel like you quietly own a restaurant kitchen — except without the tipping math. Trust the rice, trust the pan, trust the chaos. (Bring napkins.)

Daily Calorie Needs Calculator — figure out how indulgent to be today

A tiny tool to help you place this dish on your day’s delicious map.