The rain has been relentless this week. Not dramatic — Portland rain is never dramatic — but persistent, the kind that makes you forget what sun looks like and start to believe that gray is the only color. I have lived in Portland for ten years and the rain still gets to me in late January, when the novelty has worn off and the reality remains: weeks of water, weeks of gray, weeks of negotiating with your own mood to stay functional.
I made udon this week — thick wheat noodles in a hot broth, topped with tempura vegetables and a soft egg. The broth was kombu and bonito, deeply savory, the kind of liquid that steams when you pour it and fogs your glasses and makes the kitchen feel like a bath. Udon in January is medicine. It is the culinary equivalent of a heated blanket. Miya ate a few soft noodles cut into small pieces and looked surprised by the chewiness, which is the correct response to udon. Udon is supposed to surprise you. That is the joy of it.
I took Miya to a baby music class this week — a desperate attempt to socialize her and myself. The class was held in a church basement in Southeast and consisted of fifteen babies banging on tambourines while their parents tried to sing and their sleep-deprived eyes betrayed the fact that everyone in the room was running on caffeine and hope. I loved it. Not the music — the music was terrible — but the community. Fifteen parents who are all figuring it out, who are all tired, who are all doing their best. I talked to a woman named Lin who has a daughter Miya's age and who also writes and who also cooks and who might, if I am lucky, become a friend. I need friends. Motherhood is lonely in a way I did not anticipate, and loneliness is the soil where anxiety grows best.
Brian was out three nights this week. Industry events, he says, and I believe him because I have no reason not to and because the alternative is suspicion and suspicion is a road I do not want to walk. But three nights alone with a baby in January rain is a lot of alone, and I am starting to count the absences the way I count the rain — not because each one matters individually but because the accumulation tells a story, and the story is that Brian is somewhere else, always somewhere else, and I am here. In the kitchen. With the udon. With the baby. With the quiet that is either peaceful or devastating depending on the hour.
On the fourth night alone, I didn’t want udon — I wanted something that felt like being taken care of, something warm and uncomplicated and kind. Chickpea noodle soup is what I made when Miya finally slept, standing at the stove in the quiet that was, that hour, more peaceful than devastating. It is the kind of recipe that asks very little of you and gives a great deal back, which is what I needed, and maybe what I still need. Here’s how I made it.
Chickpea Noodle Soup
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 medium yellow onion, diced
- 3 cloves garlic, minced
- 3 medium carrots, peeled and sliced into rounds
- 3 stalks celery, sliced
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/2 teaspoon dried rosemary
- 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 6 cups low-sodium vegetable broth
- 2 cans (15 oz each) chickpeas, drained and rinsed
- 6 oz wide egg noodles (or udon noodles if you have them)
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1/4 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
Instructions
- Build the base. Heat olive oil in a large heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant.
- Add the vegetables. Stir in the carrots, celery, thyme, rosemary, salt, and pepper. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables begin to soften at the edges.
- Pour in the broth. Add the vegetable broth and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Once boiling, reduce heat to medium-low and simmer for 10 minutes, until the carrots are nearly tender.
- Add chickpeas and noodles. Stir in the chickpeas and egg noodles. Simmer uncovered for 8 to 10 minutes, until the noodles are cooked through and the broth has taken on a little body. If using udon, cook according to package directions and add in the final 3 minutes.
- Finish and season. Remove from heat and stir in the lemon juice. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed. The lemon brightens everything — don’t skip it.
- Serve. Ladle into deep bowls and top with fresh parsley. Eat while it steams. Let it fog your glasses a little. That’s the point.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 17g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 64g | Fiber: 11g | Sodium: 810mg