It was dinner theater at its finest. As exciting to watch as any Broadway show.  The lights are turned up to reveal the instruments, stagehands bustle to make sure everything is in place.  The show was to start at 9pm. At 9:15, we still await the star of the show, growing more impatient with every second.  One by one the supporting cast appear: steak, veal, prawns, rice, vegetables.  Sauces and oils stand on the side, like musiciains in the orchestra pit.
Then finally, he appears. After tying the bandana securely around his forehead, he is ready for his close-up.
Watching with rapt attention, the girls put their hands to their ears to lessen the noise caused by the clanking of utensils – stainless steel spatula, knife and fork – on the grill.
Asked to “egg” him on, we bang our chopsticks on our glasses as he dices fried egg, rolled up fruit roll-up style, into tiny pieces and folds them into the fried rice. 
As we devour the meal, accompanied by teriyaki, ginger, sesame and soy sauces, 
it’s clear that, not only did the chef bring the noise, he also brought the flava!
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