Mother's Day. Year two of this tradition: lunch with Ma at a restaurant she'll critique, then an afternoon at her house pretending I'm not checking her blood pressure medication.
This year I took her to a new dim sum place on Bellaire — a massive hall with rolling carts and ladies shouting in Cantonese and the organized chaos that makes dim sum one of the great dining experiences on earth. Ma is not Cantonese — she's Vietnamese — but she loves dim sum because, as she says, "The Chinese know how to steam things."
She ordered har gow (shrimp dumplings), siu mai (pork dumplings), char siu bao (BBQ pork buns), cheung fun (rice noodle rolls), and chicken feet. Yes, chicken feet. My mother eats chicken feet with the enthusiasm of a woman who grew up in a country where you waste nothing. She looked at me across the table, gnawing on a chicken foot, and said, "You should eat these. Good for your joints."
I ate the chicken feet. My joints feel no different. But Ma was happy, so.
Lily made a Mother's Day card for Mai — she's started calling her Ba Noi now, the proper Vietnamese term for paternal grandmother, because Emma uses it and Lily copies everything Emma does. The card said, "Happy Mother's Day Ba Noi. Your pho is the best." Ma held it like it was made of gold.
I thought about Christine. She's the kids' mother, and Mother's Day is hers. I made sure the kids had gifts — Tyler bought flowers with his Shipley's money (he's still working weekends), Emma made a photo album on her phone, Lily made a card with excessive glitter. I coordinated logistics. That's my role now — the invisible infrastructure of divorced co-parenting. Make sure the gifts happen, the drop-offs are smooth, the kids feel no friction. It's not glamorous but it's important.
Came home after Ma's and made myself suon nuong — Vietnamese grilled pork chops. The marinade is lemongrass, fish sauce, shallot, garlic, sugar, and a touch of five-spice. Grill them hot, three minutes per side, until charred on the edges and just pink inside. Serve over broken rice with a fried egg and pickled vegetables. It took twenty minutes. It tasted like a Sunday evening should taste — warm, familiar, enough.
Ma called at 9 PM to say the dim sum was "better than expected." From Mai Tran, that's a five-star Yelp review.
The suon nuong was exactly what that evening called for — fast, familiar, done in twenty minutes. But when I want that same Southeast Asian warmth on a night when I’m feeding more than just myself, or when the lemongrass in the fridge is asking to be used in something that fills the whole kitchen with steam, I reach for this green Thai chicken coconut curry. Same spirit as what Ma raised me on: aromatic, a little savory, a little sweet, built for a weeknight and not for an occasion — which, honestly, is the best kind of cooking there is.
Green Thai Chicken Coconut Curry
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into 1-inch pieces
- 2 tbsp green curry paste
- 1 can (14 oz) full-fat coconut milk
- 3/4 cup low-sodium chicken broth
- 1 stalk lemongrass, tough outer layers removed, bruised with the back of a knife
- 2 tbsp fish sauce
- 1 tbsp brown sugar
- 1 tbsp neutral oil (vegetable or avocado)
- 1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
- 1 medium zucchini, halved lengthwise and sliced into half-moons
- 1 cup fresh baby spinach or Thai basil leaves
- Juice of 1 lime
- Cooked jasmine rice, for serving
- Sliced red chili and fresh cilantro, for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Sear the chicken. Heat oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add chicken in a single layer and cook undisturbed for 3–4 minutes until golden. Flip and cook another 2 minutes. Remove chicken to a plate and set aside. It does not need to be fully cooked through at this stage.
- Bloom the curry paste. Reduce heat to medium. Add green curry paste to the same pan and stir constantly for 1 minute until it darkens slightly and smells fragrant. This step builds depth — do not skip it.
- Build the broth. Pour in coconut milk and chicken broth, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom. Add the bruised lemongrass stalk, fish sauce, and brown sugar. Stir to combine and bring to a gentle simmer.
- Return the chicken. Add the seared chicken back to the pan. Simmer uncovered over medium-low heat for 10 minutes, until chicken is cooked through and the broth has thickened slightly.
- Add the vegetables. Stir in the red bell pepper and zucchini. Cook for 5–7 minutes until just tender but not mushy.
- Finish and serve. Remove and discard the lemongrass stalk. Stir in the spinach or Thai basil and squeeze in the lime juice. Taste and adjust — more fish sauce for salt, more lime for brightness, more sugar to balance. Serve hot over jasmine rice, garnished with chili and cilantro if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 415 | Protein: 33g | Fat: 23g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 810mg
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 59 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.