By June. Summer begins and the recovery continues — the medication is approaching its full therapeutic effect, the brain chemistry stabilizing, the world returning to its managed volume, the volume at which I can function and parent and teach and write and make miso soup without the constant fear that the next moment will be the panic-attack moment. The fear has not disappeared. The fear has been reduced to a background hum. The hum is familiar. The hum is home. The hum is the anxiety that I have carried since I was fourteen and will carry until I die and the carrying is the condition and the condition is manageable and manageable is the goal and the goal has been met.
I made hiyashi chuka — wait. It is June, not July. The hiyashi chuka comes in July. In June I make somen and chirashi and the cold foods that anticipate the heat without fully committing to it. In June the cooking is transitional: not yet summer-cold, not still spring-warm, the food in the doorway between seasons, the way I am in the doorway between recovery and normality, the doorway that is becoming the room, the way it always does.
I made cold somen with a sesame dressing — the simple summer noodle, the five-minute lunch — and the making was effortless, the hands moving without instruction, the recipe in the body, the body in the kitchen, the kitchen in the practice, the practice in the life. The effortlessness was the medication's gift: the return to the state where cooking is meditation rather than survival, where the hands move with purpose rather than desperation, where the miso soup is the morning's greeting rather than the morning's lifeline.
I told Ken about the panic attack. On the phone, briefly, without detail. I said: "I had a health scare. I'm fine now. Back on medication." Ken was quiet. Then he said: "Medication helps." Two words. Two words from the man who said, twenty-four years ago, "Nakamuras don't take pills." Two words that represent twenty-four years of reconsideration, of watching his daughter live with anxiety, of recognizing that the pills are not weakness, the pills are the dashi, the pills are the foundation, the pills are the thing that allows everything else to stand. "Medication helps." The revision of a lifetime, delivered in two words, in the Nakamura format: minimum words, maximum meaning.
The somen came together the way I described — hands moving, no thought required — and when I wanted something equally effortless on a different afternoon that same week, I reached for quinoa the way my mother’s generation reached for rice: not as a choice, but as a reflex. California Quinoa is that kind of recipe, the kind that exists in the body rather than in a cookbook, the kind that asks nothing of you and gives you back a bowl that is cool and bright and enough. Manageable. The goal has been met.
California Quinoa
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 cup quinoa, rinsed
- 2 cups water or vegetable broth
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
- 1 avocado, diced
- 1 cup corn kernels (fresh, frozen, or canned)
- 1/2 cup cucumber, diced
- 1/4 cup red onion, finely diced
- 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon cumin
- Salt and black pepper to taste
Instructions
- Cook the quinoa. Combine rinsed quinoa and water (or broth) in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce to a simmer, cover, and cook for 12–15 minutes until liquid is absorbed and quinoa is fluffy. Remove from heat and let sit, covered, for 5 minutes.
- Cool the quinoa. Spread cooked quinoa onto a sheet pan or large plate and let it cool to room temperature, about 10 minutes. For a faster result, refrigerate for 5 minutes.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together olive oil, lime juice, garlic powder, cumin, salt, and pepper until combined.
- Combine. Transfer cooled quinoa to a large bowl. Add cherry tomatoes, avocado, corn, cucumber, red onion, and cilantro. Pour dressing over the top.
- Toss and serve. Gently toss everything together, taking care not to mash the avocado. Taste and adjust seasoning. Serve at room temperature or lightly chilled.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 180mg