Asian Noodle Salad

Mid-August. Post-birthday. The summer is at its peak and I am harvesting shiso from the balcony with both hands, the leaves fragrant and enormous, enough for salads and tempura and pesto and gifts to neighbors. The shiso is proof that abundance can come from a balcony pot, that you don't need a garden to grow something worth harvesting. You need sun and water and patience and the willingness to talk to your plants, which I do, in Japanese, because the shiso responds better to Japanese, or because I need to practice, or both.

I made shiso and salmon onigiri — the rice balls with a center of salted salmon and a shiso leaf wrapped inside the nori. The double wrapping — shiso inside, nori outside — is my addition to Fumiko's basic onigiri, the small invention that layers herb and sea together and makes each bite a conversation between the balcony and the ocean. The invention is small. The inventions are all small. But they accumulate, the way small sentences accumulate into essays, the way essays accumulate into books, the way small gestures of creativity accumulate into a life that is recognizably yours.

A publisher made an offer. The first of the six. A small press in Portland — how perfect is that, a Portland press for a Portland book, a local publisher for a book about Japanese food in Oregon. The offer is modest — the advance is enough to pay rent for a few months, not enough to quit yoga — but the offer is real. The book will be published. The sentence is still too large for my apartment. I told Miya, who said, "Is it about soup?" and I said, "Partly," and she said, "Good. Soup is important," and the literary criticism of a five-year-old is the only review I need.

I called Ken. I said, "A publisher wants the book." He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, "What did your agent say?" Not: congratulations. Not: I'm proud of you. "What did your agent say?" — the practical question, the logistical question, the Ken question. I answered the question. And then, just before we hung up, he said, "Jen." And then nothing. Just my name. Just the sound of a father saying his daughter's name in a way that contained everything he could not say, the way a bowl of miso soup contains everything the cook could not say, the way food is always, always the language when the words fail.

The day the offer came in, I stood on the balcony with a fistful of shiso and nowhere to put it — too much herb for one batch of onigiri, too much feeling for one phone call with my dad. This Asian noodle salad is what I made with the overflow: the shiso torn and scattered on top, the sesame dressing bright and grounding, the whole bowl a small ceremony for a large sentence that still didn’t quite fit inside my apartment. It’s the kind of dish that holds whatever you need it to hold.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

8 oz soba or thin rice noodles
2 cups shredded purple cabbage
1 cup shredded carrots
1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
3 green onions, sliced thin
1/2 cup fresh shiso or cilantro leaves, torn
1/4 cup roasted salted peanuts or edamame
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
Sesame Dressing:
3 tablespoons soy sauce or tamari
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
1 tablespoon honey or maple syrup
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, grated
1 garlic clove, minced
1 teaspoon sriracha or chili garlic sauce (optional)
2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as avocado or grapeseed)

Instructions

Cook the noodles. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Cook soba or rice noodles according to package directions until just tender. Drain, rinse well under cold water, and set aside in a large bowl.
Make the dressing. Whisk together the soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, honey, ginger, garlic, sriracha (if using), and neutral oil until fully combined. Taste and adjust seasoning — the dressing should be bright, savory, and slightly sweet.
Prep the vegetables. Shred the cabbage and carrots, slice the bell pepper and green onions, and tear the shiso or cilantro leaves. Keep the shiso set aside to add at the end so it stays bright.
Combine. Toss the cooled noodles with the cabbage, carrots, bell pepper, and green onions. Pour the dressing over the top and toss thoroughly to coat.
Finish and serve. Top with torn shiso leaves, peanuts or edamame, and sesame seeds. Serve immediately at room temperature, or refrigerate for up to 1 hour before serving. Toss again before plating if the noodles have absorbed the dressing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Asian Noodle Salad — What the Balcony and the Ocean Made Together