I don't think I've had a fried rice I've seriously enjoyed, especially a fukin one. It's one of those things that's just always been a side dish kind of deal, never in a spotlight of its own. It's either too salty, too gummy, not enough of an ingredient, or too much of an ingredient. I'm sure one day I will create fried rice nirvana.
I'm on a childhood quest to recreate this recipe I used to eat all the time when I was a little girl. It was called house special chicken, a nebulous name for a menu item found in a mall food court Chinese restaurant in Los Angeles -- notably from the Fallbrook Mall, which may or may not still exist. The best way I could describe it was orange chicken and kung pao had a baby. It was breaded chicken, with white onions and dried red peppers, in a delicious brown sauce of some kind.
This recipe delirium has created a kitchen pantry capable of creating any Asian dish possible. I can make any stir fry dish you can think of -- usually better than any Chinese restaurant you'll find. But, this one...this one eludes me.