When the egg roll is cool enough to handle, hold it like a precious artifact. Dip it. Take a bite. Hear that crunch? That is the sound of victory. You made a thing. You conquered fear, oil, and bad folding techniques.
If your first one looks like a sad, leaking pillow, eat it anyway. Call it “rustic.” Call it “deconstructed.” The second one will be perfect. The third will be for the gods. The fourth will be eaten cold at 2 AM while standing over the sink, and it will be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.
So go forth, roll your egg rolls, and remember: deep-frying is 90% bravery and 10% paper towels. You got this. Now go wash the dishes. Your future self is begging you.
