Asian Salad with Roasted Delicata Squash

The second week of Miya at preschool and I am learning to be alone in a quiet apartment. For three years, silence has been something that happens at midnight, stolen between nursing and sleeping, rare and precious. Now silence is a Tuesday morning, a Wednesday morning, a regular occurrence that I am filling with words. I write at the kitchen table from nine to noon while the apartment is empty and the writing comes in a way it never has — uninterrupted, sustained, the sentences building on each other like layers of tamagoyaki, each one smooth and even and leading to the next.

I made miso-roasted carrots this week — a simple dish, whole carrots roasted with white miso, honey, and sesame oil until caramelized and tender. The sweetness of the carrots, amplified by the miso, is a revelation every time. I eat them for lunch, standing at the counter, alone, in the quiet apartment, and the standing and the eating and the aloneness are not sad. They are necessary. They are the conditions under which the writing happens. I am learning that aloneness is not the same as loneliness. Loneliness is what I feel when Brian is in the same room and we are not connecting. Aloneness is what I feel when the apartment is empty and the words are flowing and the carrots are warm and the silence is full of possibility.

I started outlining the book this week. Not writing it — outlining it. Fumiko's recipes organized by season, each one paired with an essay about learning to cook it after her death. The structure came quickly, as if the book had been organizing itself in my subconscious for a year, waiting for me to provide the silence it needed to reveal its shape. Twenty-six recipes. Twenty-six essays. Four seasons. One kitchen. One grandmother. One granddaughter. One chipped ceramic bowl. The book has a shape. The shape is beautiful. The shape is mine.

Brian noticed I was happier this week. "You seem good," he said. I said, "I have been writing." He nodded. The nod was not understanding — Brian does not understand the writing the way he understands beer or sports — but it was acceptance. He accepts that writing makes me happy the way I accept that beer makes him comfortable. We accept each other's coping mechanisms. We do not understand them. The acceptance without understanding is the state of the marriage, and it is not nothing, but it is not enough.

The miso-roasted carrots I wrote about above were not a recipe so much as a habit — a thing I assembled without measuring, standing at the counter in the quiet apartment, learning that feeding yourself well is its own kind of discipline. This Asian salad with roasted delicata squash is the version I’d make when I wanted to sit down, when the morning of writing had been good and I felt I’d earned something arranged on a plate. The caramelized squash, the sesame, the cool crunch of greens against warm roasted edges — it has the same logic as the carrots: simple ingredients, heat, a little sweetness, a little salt, and the willingness to make something beautiful for yourself alone.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 small delicata squash, halved lengthwise, seeded, and sliced into 1/2-inch half-moons
2 tablespoons sesame oil, divided
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon honey
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
5 oz mixed greens or baby arugula
1 cup shredded purple cabbage
1/2 cup shredded carrots
3 green onions, thinly sliced
1/4 cup sliced almonds, toasted
2 tablespoons sesame seeds
Dressing:
3 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1 tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger
1 small garlic clove, minced

Instructions

Roast the squash. Preheat oven to 425°F. Toss delicata squash slices with 1 tablespoon sesame oil, soy sauce, honey, and red pepper flakes. Spread in a single layer on a parchment-lined baking sheet and roast 20–25 minutes, flipping once halfway, until edges are caramelized and tender.
Make the dressing. Whisk together rice vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, honey, ginger, and garlic in a small bowl until combined. Taste and adjust seasoning.
Build the salad. In a large bowl, combine mixed greens, purple cabbage, shredded carrots, and green onions. Drizzle with dressing and toss gently to coat.
Finish and serve. Arrange roasted delicata squash over the dressed greens. Top with toasted almonds and sesame seeds. Serve immediately while the squash is still warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Asian Salad with Roasted Delicata Squash — The Quiet Lunch I Made for Myself