May. The balcony shiso is growing — the seeds I planted in the pandemic spring, from last year's plants, from the year before, from the seeds I brought from the old apartment, from the seeds Fumiko gave me years ago. The lineage of the shiso is the lineage of the women: Fumiko to Jen, one balcony to the next, Sacramento to Portland, the herb that smells like home traveling with the daughter who is always looking for home. The shiso doesn't know it's been transplanted. The shiso grows wherever there is sun and a woman who talks to it.
I made Fumiko's goma-ae — sesame-dressed spinach, the simple side dish that is nothing but blanched spinach tossed in a ground sesame and soy sauce dressing. It takes five minutes. It is perfect. The perfection is in the simplicity — the nuttiness of the sesame, the sweetness of the spinach, the saltiness of the soy sauce, three flavors in conversation, no one dominating, all three essential. Fumiko's recipe card says nothing about technique. The card says: "spinach. sesame. soy sauce." Three words. The rest is practice. The rest is always practice.
Mother's Day. Miya made me a card at school — a drawing of a woman in a kitchen with the word "MAMA" above her head and what appears to be a bowl of soup on the counter. The bowl is brown. The soup is brown. The woman has brown hair and a smile that takes up most of her face. I put the card on the refrigerator next to last year's card and the year before's and the wall of cards is growing, a gallery of Mother's Days drawn in crayon, each one documenting how Miya sees me: in the kitchen, making soup, smiling. If that is how my daughter sees me, the image is correct. The kitchen is where I am. The soup is what I make. The smile is real. The smile was not always real. The smile is real now.
I called Barbara, who talked for twenty-two minutes about her spring garden and the community theater production of Steel Magnolias she is directing and the fact that Gerald has discovered birdwatching and will not stop talking about warblers. The call was warm and ordinary and exactly what Mother's Day should be: a daughter calling a mother, a mother talking too long, neither of them saying "I love you" because they don't need to, because the twenty-two minutes of warbler talk is the same thing as "I love you," just louder and with more birds.
Fumiko’s recipe card has three words on it, and somehow that is enough — because the real recipe lives in the hands, in the repetition, in the smell of toasted sesame rising off a dry pan. This Easy Dukkah works the same way: a handful of things, toasted until fragrant, ground until just coarse enough to still have texture. It’s the same logic as goma-ae, the same trust that simplicity done carefully is its own kind of skill. I make a jar and keep it on the counter, and when I reach for it, I think of all the women who kept small jars of useful things nearby, knowing what to do with them without being told.
Easy Dukkah
Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 10 (about 1 cup)
Ingredients
- 1/2 cup raw hazelnuts
- 3 tablespoons sesame seeds
- 2 tablespoons coriander seeds
- 1 tablespoon cumin seeds
- 1/2 teaspoon flaky sea salt
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
- Toast the hazelnuts. Place hazelnuts in a dry skillet over medium heat. Toast, stirring frequently, for 4—5 minutes until the skins are cracked and the nuts are golden and fragrant. Transfer to a clean kitchen towel and rub to remove as much of the papery skin as possible. Let cool slightly.
- Toast the seeds. In the same dry skillet over medium-low heat, add the sesame seeds, coriander seeds, and cumin seeds together. Toast, stirring constantly, for 2—3 minutes until the sesame seeds are lightly golden and the spices are fragrant. Watch carefully — they can burn quickly. Transfer immediately to a plate to cool.
- Pulse to combine. Add the cooled hazelnuts and toasted seed mixture to a food processor. Pulse 8—10 times in short bursts until the mixture is coarsely chopped — it should be crumbly and textured, not a paste. Stop before it becomes smooth.
- Season and store. Transfer to a bowl, stir in the salt and black pepper, and taste. Adjust seasoning as needed. Store in an airtight jar at room temperature for up to 3 weeks.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 95 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 55mg