Ginger Salad Dressing

Week one of Banchan Labs. I have been working from 7 AM to 9 PM every day. James has been bringing me food. I have talked to six potential ingredient suppliers, toured two possible commercial kitchen spaces (too expensive; not yet), and drafted the first eight recipe cards in bilingual format. The cards are designed in a way I am proud of — a simple layout, Korean on the left page and English on the right, a small black-and-white photo of the dish on the cover, a short paragraph at the bottom about the grandmother or cook who originated the recipe.

Card one: Jisoo's kimchi. Card two: Jisoo's mother's kkakdugi. Card three: doenjang jjigae, my version after a year of making it. Card four: bulgogi, my version. Card five: japchae, after Eunji's corrections. Card six: pajeon, my version. Card seven: bibimbap, my version. Card eight: kimchi jjigae, my version. The first eight. A good opening set.

The waitlist is now at 412 sign-ups. I have not run any ads. All organic. Most referrals are through AAPI food communities on Instagram. A Seattle food writer DMed me Wednesday asking if I wanted to do an interview for a piece on AAPI-founded food businesses. I said yes. The interview is next Tuesday.

Kevin offered to drive up next weekend to help me tape up boxes if I need it. I said not yet. I do not have boxes to tape up yet. Soon. He said, "Whenever you're ready, I'm in." I said, "Thank you."

I have not cooked dinner all week. James has made dinner. Monday was a basic pasta. Tuesday was a rotisserie chicken. Wednesday was takeout ramen. Thursday was eggs and rice. Friday was pizza. Saturday was something I do not remember eating but I have a photo of it on my phone — a pot of James's beef noodle soup, which he made quietly while I was on a call with a supplier. I ate a bowl at midnight. I went to bed at one.

Karen had a good week. David had a less-good week — a small health scare (an irregular heartbeat, seen at the cardiologist, medicated, resolved) that nobody told me about until it was over. I was annoyed. David said, "I did not want to distract you." I said, "Dad. You are not a distraction." David said, "I know, kid. I know."

Dr. Yoon Monday: the first session of the founder era. She said, "How are you sleeping?" I said, "Not enough." She said, "Eat. Sleep. Move. These are not optional." I said, "I know." She said, "I am saying them because you need to hear them." I wrote them down. Eat. Sleep. Move.

The recipe this week is James's beef noodle soup, which he made me at midnight Saturday. I am not writing the recipe again this week. I wrote it two months ago. The recipe is the gesture. The gesture is the soup. The soup is the way this man has become, in the most profound way, a home.

James fed me all week — pasta, chicken, eggs and rice, and that midnight bowl of beef noodle soup I’ll be thinking about for a long time — and I am so grateful I can barely say it. But on Sunday morning, when the calendar was quiet for exactly one hour, I went into the kitchen and made something myself. Something small. Something that smelled like ginger, which smells like every Korean kitchen I have ever loved. Dr. Yoon said eat, sleep, move — I could not sleep in, but I could eat something I made with my own hands, and this dressing, sharp and alive and finished in five minutes, felt like the right place to start.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 8 (about 1 cup)

Ingredients

1/4 cup rice vinegar
3 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons sesame oil
2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as avocado or grapeseed)
1 tablespoon honey
1 tablespoon fresh ginger, finely grated (about a 1-inch knob)
2 cloves garlic, finely grated or minced
1 teaspoon toasted sesame seeds
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)

Instructions

Grate the aromatics. Using a microplane or fine grater, grate the fresh ginger and garlic directly into a small bowl or jar. The finer the grate, the more evenly the flavor distributes throughout the dressing.
Combine the liquids. Add the rice vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, neutral oil, and honey to the bowl with the ginger and garlic. Whisk vigorously until the honey is fully dissolved and the dressing is cohesive.
Season and finish. Stir in the toasted sesame seeds and red pepper flakes if using. Taste and adjust — a little more honey if you want sweetness, a splash more vinegar if you want more brightness.
Rest briefly. Let the dressing sit for 2–3 minutes before serving so the flavors can meld. Shake or whisk again just before dressing your salad.
Store. Transfer to a lidded jar and refrigerate for up to one week. The ginger flavor will deepen as it sits.

Nutrition (per serving)

Ginger Salad Dressing — The Recipe I Made When I Finally Had Five Minutes to Breathe