Christina's Story — The Mushroom Rice That Holds the Week Together

Thanksgiving. Miya and I hosted at the apartment. Roast chicken instead of turkey, the way I have done it since 2020. Roasted vegetables from the garden. Onigiri on the side because Fumiko would have wanted onigiri.

Miya, 9, can shape onigiri without falling apart. She uses wet hands. She knows the order without being told. I drank miso from Fumiko's chipped bowl. The chip fits my lip. The lip fits the chip. The bowl is the small daily ritual.

Mushroom rice Saturday. Shiitake and maitake folded into the rice during cooking. Dashi, soy, mirin. The earthy autumn dish.

I called Ken in Sacramento. The pauses are longer now. I asked about the daikon. He told me, slowly, about the recent harvest. He grew six. They were perfect.

The week held. The work continues.

Yoga Tuesday morning. The studio in Sellwood. Eight students. The class was the class.

Sunday farmers market in the rain. The vendors knew me. The Hood River apple stand had honeycrisps. I bought four pounds.

A panic flicker Tuesday evening, brief, manageable. I breathed. I drank water. I went outside and walked around the block. The flicker passed. The body did its work.

Miya is in elementary school. The Saturday Japanese school continues. She still complains. She is still going.

Therapy Tuesday. We talked about the wedding. We talked about Barbara. We talked about Fumiko. The hour passed. The work continues.

I drove to Uwajimaya Wednesday. Kombu, bonito flakes, white miso, a small bag of mochiko for tomorrow's project. The store smells like home.

Coffee with a friend Saturday morning. We talked about books, about kids, about the way our forties became our fifties. The talking is the thing.

Made dashi at five-thirty AM. Ten minutes in the kitchen alone with the kombu and the bonito flakes. The day's first prayer.

The rain in long sheets Tuesday afternoon. I made tea. I watched it from the porch. The cottonwoods on the next block were silver in the wet.

The neighbor's dog barked at nothing for twenty minutes Sunday afternoon. The neighbor apologized. I told him I had been writing through it and the white noise was helpful. He laughed.

I cleaned the kitchen Sunday afternoon. Wiped the counters. Reorganized the drawer where the chopsticks live. Sharpened the knife. The reset was the reset.

Miya's old room is now my office. The desk is by the window. The shiso outside. The newsletter in progress. The afternoons are quiet.

I wrote at the kitchen table from six to eight. The newsletter was forming. The opening sentence was the hard sentence — they always are. I rewrote it five times. The fifth time was the right time.

I made onigiri for tomorrow's lunch. Three triangles. Salted plum in the center. Wrapped in nori. The cling wrap. The drawer where I keep them. The system.

I read for an hour Sunday night. A book of essays by a Korean-American writer about food and grief. I underlined a paragraph that said exactly what I had been trying to say in the newsletter for months.

Tomi watered the garden Saturday morning. The shiso was head-high. The shishito peppers were producing. The kabocha was running on the fence.

The cat was the cat. Mochi at fifteen sleeps most of the day. She still eats with enthusiasm. She still sits at the kitchen window watching the back garden.

A reader sent me a handwritten card this week. Her grandmother had cooked Japanese food in 1970s Boise. She had felt alone in it. The newsletter, she wrote, made her feel less alone. I taped the card to the wall above my desk.

The mushroom rice that Saturday was not a recipe I thought about in advance — it was the dish that arrived when the week needed weight, something earthy and quiet to anchor all the rest of it: the Thanksgiving table, Fumiko’s bowl, the phone call with Ken, the panic flicker that passed. Shiitake and maitake, dashi from the morning kombu, soy and mirin, the rice doing what rice does when you let it. I am sharing the version I make now, the one that has become the Saturday reset, because a few of you have asked and because writing it down felt like the right thing to do with a dish that has earned its place on the stove.

Christina’s Story: Shiitake & Maitake Mushroom Rice

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 2 cups Japanese short-grain white rice
• 2 cups dashi stock (from kombu and bonito flakes, or prepared)
• 1/2 cup water
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon mirin
• 1 teaspoon sake (optional)
• 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
• 4 oz fresh shiitake mushrooms, stems removed, caps thinly sliced
• 4 oz fresh maitake mushrooms, torn into small pieces
• 1 tablespoon neutral oil or unsalted butter
• 2 green onions, thinly sliced, for serving
• Toasted sesame seeds, for serving (optional)

Instructions

1. Rinse the rice. Place the rice in a fine-mesh strainer and rinse under cold water, gently working it with your hand, until the water runs mostly clear, about 1 to 2 minutes. Drain well and let rest for 10 minutes.
2. Prepare the mushrooms. Heat the oil in a medium skillet over medium heat. Add the shiitake and maitake and cook, stirring occasionally, until they release their moisture and begin to turn golden at the edges, about 5 to 6 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.
3. Combine and cook. Add the drained rice to a heavy-bottomed medium pot or rice cooker. Pour in the dashi and water. Add the soy sauce, mirin, sake if using, and salt. Stir once to distribute. Scatter the sautéed mushrooms evenly over the top — do not stir them in.
4. Stovetop method. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, uncovered, watching closely. Once boiling, reduce heat to the lowest possible setting, cover tightly with a lid, and cook for 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let steam, lid on, for 10 minutes. Do not lift the lid during cooking or steaming.
5. Rice cooker method. If using a rice cooker, add the rice, liquids, and seasoning as above, top with mushrooms, and cook on the standard white rice setting. Allow the keep-warm cycle to complete before opening.
6. Fold and serve. Using a rice paddle or wide wooden spoon, gently fold the rice from the bottom up, incorporating the mushrooms throughout. Take care not to crush the grains. Serve immediately in bowls, topped with sliced green onions and a pinch of sesame seeds if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 380 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 5g | Carbs: 72g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 620mg