Back from the tour. The apartment smells like the shiso I left behind and the coming fall and the specific relief of being home after ten days in cities that are not Portland. Portland is where the practice lives. Portland is where the stove is and the chipped bowl is and the daughter is and the shiso is. Portland is the kitchen. The other cities are the dining room — the place where the food is served. But the cooking happens here. The cooking always happens here.
I made Fumiko's nimono — the simmered vegetables, the homecoming dish, the food that says: you are back. The apartment filled with dashi steam and I stood in it and breathed and the breathing was the arriving and the arriving was the homecoming and the homecoming was the nimono.
The book is doing well — the larger press's marketing is working, the national distribution is reaching bookstores I have never entered, the book is in airports and the airport thing is both surreal and validating because airports are where people buy books impulsively and impulse purchases are how books find readers who did not know they needed the book until they saw the cover and picked it up and read the first sentence and kept reading.
The Dashi newsletter has nine thousand subscribers. The tour boosted the count — new subscribers from each city, from each reading, from the audience members who heard me read and wanted more, wanted the raw version, wanted the three-AM version, wanted the Dashi. The wanting is the growth. The growth is the shiso. The shiso is the practice. I have made this metaphor before. I will make it again. The making-again is the practice. The practice is the metaphor. The metaphor is the practice.
Fumiko’s nimono was the first thing I made, and it was the right thing — but the zucchini on the counter had been waiting ten days too, patient and slightly soft at one end, still good, still salvageable, still a reason to stay in the kitchen a little longer. I roasted them with cranberries because I had cranberries, because the tartness felt like the right counterweight to all that dashi warmth, because making one dish and then reaching for another is how the kitchen reminds you that you live here. The practice continues. It always continues.
Cranberry Zucchini Wedges
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 3 medium zucchini, halved lengthwise and cut into thick wedges
- 3/4 cup fresh or frozen cranberries
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 tablespoon honey or maple syrup
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/4 teaspoon dried)
- 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
- 2 tablespoons crumbled feta cheese (optional, for serving)
Instructions
- Preheat the oven. Set your oven to 425°F (220°C). Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Prepare the vegetables. Arrange zucchini wedges in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Scatter cranberries evenly around the zucchini.
- Season. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, honey, garlic, salt, pepper, thyme, and balsamic vinegar. Drizzle evenly over the zucchini and cranberries, then toss gently to coat.
- Roast. Roast for 20—25 minutes, turning the zucchini wedges once halfway through, until the zucchini is tender and lightly caramelized at the edges and the cranberries have burst and begun to jammy up around them.
- Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving platter. Scatter feta over the top if using. Serve warm or at room temperature.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 110 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 220mg