A small cafe on Green Street opens at seven A.M., so many students stop there for breakfast before school. The (11) is short, but everything on it is fresh and cheap. Mr. Wang, the owner, gets up before dawn to bake bread in the big oven that his father gave him. (12) His wife, (13) works as the waitress, always remembers what each person likes to drink, although some prefer black coffee while others ask for hot tea. Last month a fire started in the kitchen, and the cafe had to close for two weeks while the walls were painted again. (14), it opened again, and people say it still feels like home.
Every Saturday I cook with my grandmother in her kitchen, where she has taught me many old dishes. Last week we made fried rice. (15), she washed the rice and put it in a pot, and then I cut a carrot and a tomato into small pieces. She let me fry the eggs, but I stood far from the pan (16) I was afraid of the hot oil. The kitchen smelled so wonderful that my brother kept asking about dinner. (17) We ate in the dining room with the whole family and had brown sugar cake for dessert. Grandmother said my cooking was getting better, so I hope she will (18) me to make her soup next week.