← Back to Blog

Asian Salad Dressing — The One Thing I Could Make in Five Minutes Between Feeds

Matt drove up from Springfield on Saturday to meet his niece and nephew. He held Owen first, because Owen is slightly easier to pick up when you have not held a newborn recently, and he held him with the careful seriousness of a baseball coach holding something irreplaceable and said "hey, buddy" in a voice I had not heard from him before. Then he held Nora and she looked at him with her full, considering gaze and he laughed and said she already looks like she has opinions. He is not wrong.

We took the twins outside for the first time this week. Just around the block in the stroller, a loop that took approximately forty-five minutes because the stroller is enormous and I am still operating at a fraction of my pre-pregnancy coordination, but we did it. March in Chicago is not warm but it is light, and the light after weeks of indoor life felt like a gift. Owen slept through the entire thing. Nora looked at a passing dog with intense focus and I thought: she is going to be a person with strong opinions about dogs.

The sleep is still terrible. I want to be clear about this: the sleep is still terrible. I am writing this at 4:45 AM having just fed Nora, and Owen is starting to stir, and Ryan is on shift, and I have approximately forty minutes before I need to be back. This is fine. I am fine. I have had worse. What I have not had, previously, is this specific feeling of looking down at a small person you made and feeling your chest expand in a way that should be painful but is not.

I batch-cooked on Sunday while Patty had both babies: a tray of sheet pan chicken thighs with lemon and herbs, a big pot of black beans from dried, and a container of rice. It took two hours and I listened to a podcast the whole time and it felt like a luxury. These three things have fed us in various combinations for five days. This is the level of cooking I am capable of right now and I am at peace with it.

The sheet pan chicken and the beans and the rice carried us through most of the week, but by day four I needed something to make the combinations feel less like survival and more like food I actually chose — and this Asian salad dressing is what did it. I’ve been drizzling it over rice bowls, wilted greens, leftover chicken, basically anything I can reach with one hand while the other is occupied. It takes five minutes, every ingredient is a pantry staple, and it makes Tuesday’s rice taste like something someone who is on top of things made on purpose.

Asian Salad Dressing

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 8 (about 2 tablespoons each)

Ingredients

  • 1/4 cup rice vinegar
  • 3 tablespoons soy sauce (low-sodium works fine)
  • 2 tablespoons sesame oil (toasted)
  • 1 tablespoon neutral oil (canola or avocado)
  • 1 tablespoon honey or maple syrup
  • 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated (or 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger)
  • 1 clove garlic, minced or pressed
  • 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
  • 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)
  • 1 tablespoon sesame seeds (optional, for finishing)

Instructions

  1. Combine. Add the rice vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, neutral oil, honey, ginger, garlic, and Dijon to a jar with a tight-fitting lid or a small bowl.
  2. Mix. Seal the jar and shake vigorously for 20–30 seconds, or whisk everything together in the bowl until fully emulsified. The mustard helps it come together.
  3. Taste and adjust. Try it on a small spoon — add more honey for sweetness, more soy for salt, or more vinegar for brightness depending on what you’re serving it with.
  4. Store or serve. Use immediately or refrigerate in the sealed jar for up to 10 days. Shake before each use as it will separate. Scatter sesame seeds over the finished dish if using.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 65 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 310mg

Amanda Kowalczyk
About the cook who shared this
Amanda Kowalczyk
Week 365 of Amanda’s 30-year story · Chicago, Illinois
Amanda is a special ed teacher in Chicago, a mom of three-year-old twins, and a woman who lost her best friend to a fentanyl overdose at twenty-one. She cooks on a budget that would make a Whole Foods cashier weep — feeding a family of four for under seventy-five dollars a week — because she believes good food doesn't require a fancy kitchen or a fancy paycheck. She finished Babcia Rose's gołąbki after the funeral because that's what Babcia would have wanted. That's who Amanda is.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?