Ma made a decision. She announced it at Saturday pho like it was a weather report: "I'm going to start walking to the temple on Sundays."
The Vietnamese Buddhist temple is 1.2 miles from her house. Ma is seventy-two. She has high blood pressure that's managed but present. She has never, in my entire life, voluntarily exercised. And now she wants to walk 1.2 miles to the temple. On Sundays. In Houston.
I said, "Ma, I can drive you." She said, "I don't want to be driven. I want to walk." I said, "It's going to be hot." She said, "Vietnam was hotter." I said, "You could fall." She said, "I've walked since I was one year old. I haven't fallen yet." This is factually incorrect — she fell last year and broke nothing but my nerves — but arguing with Mai Tran is like arguing with the tide. It comes in regardless.
So Sunday morning, I drove to her house and walked with her. She didn't ask me to. I just showed up. She looked at me and said, "You're walking too?" I said, "I need the exercise." She said, "Yes you do," which was unnecessary but predictable.
The walk was nice. Quiet. Early morning, the neighborhood still waking up. Ma walked at a pace that was slower than I expected — she's always been quick, darting around the kitchen, moving with purpose — but she's seventy-two and 1.2 miles is 1.2 miles. We didn't talk much. She pointed out a house with new siding. She noted that the Nguyen family's tree was getting too big. She waved at Mr. Peterson, who was on his porch at 8 AM because he's eighty-three and sleep is optional at that age.
At the temple, she went inside to pray. I sat on a bench in the courtyard and waited. The temple smells like incense and sandalwood and something ancient and specific that I can never name. When she came out, she looked peaceful. Lighter.
We walked home. She made congee when we got back — plain rice porridge with ginger and scallion and a fried egg on top. Walking food. Recovery food. The kind of food that asks nothing of you except that you eat it.
I'm going to walk with her every Sunday. She didn't ask. She doesn't need to.
Made dinner for the kids: pho with the leftover broth from Ma's Saturday pot. She always sends me home with broth. It's her way of making sure I eat properly, which she's been doing since I was five and will continue doing until one of us is gone.
That congee Ma made when we got home — plain rice porridge, ginger, scallion, fried egg — it’s become part of the Sunday ritual now. We walk, she prays, and then she stands at the stove and stirs a pot of rice into something soft and warm and exactly right for two people who just walked 1.2 miles in Houston heat. I finally asked her to walk me through how she makes it, and she looked at me like I’d asked how to breathe. But she told me anyway.
Ginger Scallion Congee with a Fried Egg
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 cup long-grain jasmine rice, rinsed
- 8 cups water (or chicken or vegetable broth for richer flavor)
- 1 (2-inch) piece fresh ginger, peeled and sliced into thin coins
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 4 large eggs
- 2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as vegetable or avocado oil)
- 3 scallions, thinly sliced (white and green parts separated)
- White pepper, to taste
- Soy sauce or fish sauce, for serving (optional)
- Sesame oil, for drizzling (optional)
Instructions
- Simmer the rice. In a large pot or Dutch oven, combine the rinsed rice, water (or broth), ginger coins, scallion whites, and 1 teaspoon salt. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a low simmer. Stir once to prevent sticking.
- Cook low and slow. Let the congee simmer uncovered for 50 to 60 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes or so to keep the rice from sticking to the bottom. The porridge is ready when the rice has broken down completely and the texture is creamy and loose. If it gets too thick, add water 1/4 cup at a time until you reach your desired consistency.
- Fry the eggs. In the last few minutes of cooking, heat the neutral oil in a nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Crack in the eggs one or two at a time and fry until the whites are set and the edges are lacy and crisp, about 2 to 3 minutes. The yolks should still be runny.
- Season and serve. Remove and discard the ginger coins. Taste the congee and adjust with more salt or a splash of soy sauce or fish sauce. Ladle into bowls, top each with a fried egg, and scatter the scallion greens on top. Finish with a pinch of white pepper and a drizzle of sesame oil if you like.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 280 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 37g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 620mg
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 106 of Bobby’s 30-year story
· Houston, Texas
Bobby Tran was born in a refugee camp in Arkansas to parents who fled Saigon with nothing. He grew up in Houston straddling two worlds — Vietnamese at home, Texan everywhere else — and learned to cook from his mother's pho and a neighbor's BBQ smoker. He's a former shrimper, a recovering alcoholic, a divorced dad of three, and the guy who marinates brisket in fish sauce and lemongrass because he doesn't believe in borders, especially when it comes to flavor.