Soo-Jin taught me to make Korean short ribs.
This is the beginning of something, though I don't know it yet. This is the recipe that will travel with me for the rest of my life, the one I'll make at every duty station, the one that will become as much mine as Mom's pot roast.
Soo-Jin's kitchen is twice the size of mine (she has a corner unit; the extra ten square feet are revolutionary). She had the ribs marinating when I arrived — flanken-cut short ribs, the thin cross-cut kind you can only find at Korean grocery stores or, as Soo-Jin discovered, the Asian commissary section at Pendleton.
The marinade: soy sauce, brown sugar, sesame oil, garlic (SO MUCH garlic — 'If you can't smell the garlic from the next room, there's not enough,' Soo-Jin said), ginger, pear (PEAR — grated Asian pear, which acts as a tenderizer and adds sweetness), green onion, and a little mirin.
'How long do you marinate?' I asked.
'Minimum four hours. Overnight is better. My mother says two days.'
'Two DAYS?'
'My mother is excessive in all things. Overnight is fine.'
She grilled them on the patio — three minutes per side, high heat, until the edges are caramelized and slightly charred and the sugar in the marinade creates this sticky, lacquered crust that makes you want to eat them standing over the grill like an animal.
We ate them with rice and kimchi (Soo-Jin's mother's kimchi, which is a religious experience) and pickled cucumbers and I made a sound while eating that was not appropriate for a Tuesday afternoon with children present.
'This is the best thing I've ever eaten,' I said.
'Don't tell your mother that.'
'I will NEVER tell my mother that.'
Soo-Jin wrote the recipe on a card. In her handwriting. And handed it to me. And I put it in the binder next to Mom's pot roast and Sandra's popcorn balls and Mrs. Kim's bulgogi and the green chile stew from the New Mexico wife.
The binder grows. The recipes accumulate. Each one is a woman and a kitchen and a friendship.
I called Mom and told her about the short ribs (without the 'best thing I've ever eaten' part). She said, 'Korean? That's ambitious. Is it hard?'
'It's easy, Mom. Marinade, grill, done.'
'Send me the recipe.'
I sent it. My mother, in Norfolk, Virginia, is going to make Korean short ribs from a recipe I got from a Korean-American military wife in California. The chain reaches across the country now.
Caleb ate rice. Plain rice, smashed between his fingers, half of it in his mouth and half on the floor. He's eight months old. He's eating at the table with us. He's part of the dinner.
This is the family table. It keeps growing. New recipes, new flavors, new friends.
The short ribs are in the binder. California is becoming home.
Soo-Jin’s short ribs live in the binder now, but on the nights when I don’t have ribs marinating and I’m chasing Caleb around the kitchen with one hand and dinner with the other, I turn to something that carries the same bright, sesame-and-ginger spirit in a fraction of the time. These Asian Chicken Salad Wraps became my weeknight answer — the flavors that remind me of Soo-Jin’s patio, her mother’s kimchi, that whole afternoon that changed the binder forever. They’re fresh and quick and the kind of thing you can make at any duty station, anywhere, because the ingredients travel just as well as the memories do.
Asian Chicken Salad Wraps
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts
- 8 large butter lettuce or romaine leaves
- 1 cup shredded purple cabbage
- 1 cup shredded carrots
- 1/2 cup shelled edamame, thawed if frozen
- 3 green onions, thinly sliced
- 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves, roughly chopped
- 1/4 cup sliced almonds or chopped roasted peanuts
- 1 tablespoon sesame seeds
- For the sesame-ginger dressing:
- 3 tablespoons soy sauce (low-sodium preferred)
- 2 tablespoons rice vinegar
- 1 tablespoon sesame oil
- 1 tablespoon honey
- 1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
- 1 teaspoon sriracha or chili garlic sauce (optional)
Instructions
- Cook the chicken. Place chicken breasts in a medium saucepan and cover with cold water by 1 inch. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce to a simmer. Cook 12–15 minutes until cooked through (internal temperature 165°F). Transfer to a cutting board and let rest 5 minutes.
- Shred the chicken. Use two forks to shred the chicken into bite-sized pieces. Set aside to cool slightly.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, honey, grated ginger, minced garlic, lime juice, and sriracha if using. Taste and adjust seasoning.
- Toss the salad. In a large bowl, combine shredded chicken, purple cabbage, shredded carrots, edamame, and green onions. Pour dressing over the top and toss well to coat everything evenly.
- Assemble the wraps. Lay lettuce leaves on a serving platter or individual plates. Spoon the chicken salad mixture into each leaf. Top with fresh cilantro, sliced almonds or peanuts, and a sprinkle of sesame seeds.
- Serve immediately. These wraps are best enjoyed fresh. If prepping ahead, store the salad and dressing separately in the refrigerator for up to 2 days and assemble just before serving.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 17g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 640mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 174 of Rachel’s 30-year story
· San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.