Mid-July. The shiso is at its summer peak and I am making everything with it: pesto, tempura, wraps, drinks, the annual shiso-everything phase that produces more shiso-based recipes than any reasonable person needs. The excess is the abundance. The abundance is the season. The season does not practice restraint. Neither do I, in July, when the shiso demands to be used and the using is the gratitude and the gratitude is the cooking.
I made shiso cocktail — non-alcoholic, as always, muddled shiso with yuzu juice and sparkling water and a touch of simple syrup. The drink is green and bright and tastes like summer in both countries simultaneously, which is the taste of my life: both countries, simultaneously, always. I served it at the cooking class this month — a summer Japanese cooking class, cold soba and cold tofu and shiso drinks — and the students drank the shiso cocktail and said "What IS this?" with the universal expression of people tasting something for the first time that they will want to taste for the rest of their lives.
Sarah called about the second book. She has a publisher interested — a larger press than the first book, a press with national distribution, a press that could put Two Kitchens in airports and Targets and the kind of stores where people who have never heard of me would see the cover and pick it up and read the first sentence and keep reading. The sentence is not certain. The sentence is possible. The possible is enough for now. The possible is the kombu in the water. The heat has not been applied. But the kombu is in the water.
I told Miya about the possible book deal. She said, "Another book?" I said yes. She said, "Can I proofread it?" I said yes. She said, "Good. You need me." She is right. I need her. The needing is mutual, bidirectional, the mother needing the daughter the way the daughter needs the mother, the chain pulling in both directions, the chain held by both ends.
The shiso cocktail is mine — tied to July, to the garden, to both countries at once — and I won’t pretend anything replaces it. But when students ask me what else they can make at home without a garden full of shiso or a bottle of yuzu juice, I give them this: the 2-Ingredient Strawberry Coconut “Milk”Shake, which asks almost nothing of you and gives back summer anyway. It has the same spirit as the shiso drink — cold, bright, made with what you have, requiring nothing more than the willingness to blend — and it is the kind of recipe that, like Miya’s proofreading or Sarah’s possible publisher, meets a need you didn’t know how to ask for.
2-Ingredient Strawberry Coconut “Milk”Shake
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 2
Ingredients
- 2 cups frozen strawberries
- 1 can (13.5 oz) full-fat coconut milk, chilled
Instructions
- Chill your can. Make sure the coconut milk has been refrigerated for at least 2 hours beforehand — a cold can blends into a thicker, creamier shake.
- Combine. Add the frozen strawberries and the entire can of chilled coconut milk to a blender.
- Blend. Blend on high for 45–60 seconds until completely smooth and creamy. Scrape down the sides once if needed.
- Taste and adjust. If you prefer a sweeter shake, add a teaspoon of maple syrup or honey and pulse once more. If it’s too thick, add 1–2 tablespoons of cold water and blend briefly.
- Serve immediately. Pour into two glasses and serve right away — this shake is best cold and fresh, before the frozen strawberries begin to warm.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 24g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 18mg