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Bok Choy and Radishes — The Quiet Side Dish That Got Eaten Without Ceremony

The week unfolded with the rhythm that defines this period of life: work at the clinic and Rutgers, children growing, Amma in memory care. The kitchen produces meals on schedule — breakfast, lunches, dinners — the machinery of a household run by a woman who learned to cook from a woman who measured in handfuls. I visit Amma three times a week. The containers, labeled, delivered. She eats or she doesn't. She hums or she doesn't. The connection through food persists regardless of response. The children are themselves: Anaya with her books and her quiet observations, Rohan with his noise and his spatial brilliance. Both of them in the kitchen — Anaya by choice, Rohan by appetite. The ordinary week. The week that holds the extraordinary weeks together. I made Chapati and dal fry. Because the kitchen doesn't stop for ordinary weeks. The kitchen treats every week the same: with heat, with spice, with the generous pinch that is always enough.

The chapati and dal fry were the anchors of the week, the things I made without thinking because the muscle memory is decades old — but it was this side dish, bok choy and radishes cooked fast in a hot pan with garlic and a little sesame, that Rohan kept reaching for. I hadn’t planned it as anything special; it was just what needed to be used from the crisper before it gave up. And yet that’s the thing about an ordinary week — the dish nobody planned becomes the one everybody remembers. Here is what I made alongside everything else, in case your week needs a quiet, honest vegetable.

Bok Choy and Radishes

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

Ingredients

  • 4 heads baby bok choy, halved lengthwise and rinsed well
  • 1 bunch radishes (about 10–12), trimmed and quartered
  • 2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as avocado or vegetable oil)
  • 3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
  • 1 tablespoon low-sodium soy sauce
  • 1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil
  • 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
  • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 teaspoon sesame seeds, to finish
  • Salt to taste

Instructions

  1. Prep the vegetables. Halve the bok choy lengthwise and pat dry — moisture in the pan will steam rather than sear. Quarter the radishes so they cook through evenly. Slice the garlic thin so it toasts quickly without burning.
  2. Heat the pan. Set a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add the neutral oil and let it shimmer — about 1 minute. The pan should be genuinely hot before anything goes in.
  3. Cook the garlic. Add the sliced garlic and stir constantly for 30 seconds until fragrant and just beginning to turn golden. Do not walk away; it moves fast at this heat.
  4. Add the radishes. Add the quartered radishes and toss to coat in the oil. Cook for 2–3 minutes, stirring occasionally, until they begin to soften at the edges and lose their raw sharpness.
  5. Add the bok choy. Place the bok choy cut-side down in the pan. Let it sit undisturbed for 90 seconds to get some color on the cut face, then toss everything together. Cook another 2–3 minutes until the bok choy is tender-crisp and the leaves are wilted but still bright green.
  6. Season and finish. Add the soy sauce and toss to coat. Remove from heat and drizzle with toasted sesame oil. Add black pepper and red pepper flakes if using. Taste and adjust salt. Transfer to a serving plate and scatter sesame seeds over the top.
  7. Serve immediately. This dish is best eaten right away while the bok choy still has its texture. It pairs well with steamed rice, flatbread, or dal.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 85 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 7g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 210mg

Priya Krishnamurthy
About the cook who shared this
Priya Krishnamurthy
Week 491 of Priya’s 30-year story · Edison, New Jersey
Priya is a pharmacist, wife, and mom of two in Edison, New Jersey — the town she grew up in, surrounded by the sights and smells of her mother's South Indian kitchen. These days, she splits her time between the hospital pharmacy, school pickups, and her own kitchen, where she cooks nearly every night. Her style is a blend of the Tamil recipes her mother taught her and the American comfort food her kids actually want to eat. She writes about the beautiful mess of balancing two cultures on one plate — and she wants you to know that ordering pizza is also an act of love.

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