Mid-July and the summer is at full throttle. Every evening Brian and I sit on the balcony after Miya goes to bed and watch the sky do its slow fade from blue to gold to pink to dark. These are the best moments in our marriage right now — the wordless ones, the ones where we are just two people sharing a sunset and not asking anything of each other. Silence between us is either comfortable or avoidant and I am choosing, this week, to believe it is comfortable. The choice is a kindness I am offering to both of us.
I made a Japanese-style summer salad this week — thinly shaved daikon and carrot dressed with rice vinegar, sesame oil, soy sauce, and topped with toasted sesame seeds and a shower of shiso from the balcony garden. The shiso has finally reached a usable height and I am harvesting two or three leaves a week, which is not enough but is something, and something grown with my own hands on a Portland balcony from Sacramento seeds feels like an accomplishment disproportionate to its actual size. Fumiko's shiso in Sacramento is, Ken tells me, producing enough to supply a restaurant. I am choosing not to compete with a woman who has been gardening since before I was born.
I enrolled in an online writing course this week. Not for the blog — for me. A personal essay writing course, six weeks, taught by a writer whose work I admire. The first assignment is to write about a specific kitchen. I know which kitchen I will write about. I have always known. Fumiko's kitchen in Sacramento, the ceramic bowls, the cast iron pan, the smell of dashi at dawn. The kitchen that made me. The kitchen I am trying to carry, recipe by recipe, into my own life.
Miya is fifteen months old and she is a full person now. She has preferences (rice, bananas, the cat), dislikes (broccoli, loud noises, being told no), a sense of humor (she laughs when I pretend to sneeze), and a stubbornness that is unmistakably Nakamura. She is also sweet — she hugs me unprompted, laying her head against my shoulder with a sigh that contains the entire concept of trust. These hugs are the best thing in my life. I will never write anything that matches them. I will keep trying.
This is the salad from the paragraph above — the one I actually made this week, the one that tasted like July on a Portland balcony and a little like Sacramento too. I’ve written it out properly here because a few of you asked, and because I think it deserves to exist as a real recipe rather than just a sentence inside a feeling. The shiso is optional if you don’t have a balcony garden producing two or three leaves a week, but if you can find it at a Japanese grocery store, please use it — it is the thing that lifts the whole bowl into something worth remembering.
Japanese Daikon and Carrot Salad with Shiso and Toasted Sesame
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min (plus 10 min resting) | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 12 oz daikon radish, peeled
- 2 medium carrots, peeled
- 1/2 tsp kosher salt, for drawing out moisture
- 2 tbsp rice vinegar (unseasoned)
- 1 tsp soy sauce (or tamari for gluten-free)
- 1 tsp toasted sesame oil
- 1/2 tsp honey or granulated sugar
- 1/4 tsp freshly grated ginger (optional, but recommended)
- 1 tbsp toasted sesame seeds
- 6–8 fresh shiso leaves, thinly sliced (chiffonade), or substitute fresh mint
- Pinch of red pepper flakes or shichimi togarashi (optional)
Instructions
- Shave the vegetables. Using a mandoline, vegetable peeler, or sharp knife, slice the daikon and carrots into very thin matchsticks or ribbons, as uniform as you can manage. Thin is the goal — you want the dressing to coat every surface.
- Salt and rest. Place the shaved daikon and carrot in a colander set over a bowl. Toss with the kosher salt and let sit for 10 minutes. The salt draws out excess water so the salad stays crisp rather than soggy once dressed.
- Rinse and dry. Rinse the vegetables briefly under cold water, then gently squeeze out as much moisture as possible with your hands. Pat dry with a clean kitchen towel or paper towels and transfer to a mixing bowl.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the rice vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, honey (or sugar), and grated ginger until the sweetener is fully dissolved.
- Dress and toss. Pour the dressing over the vegetables and toss well to coat. Taste and adjust — a touch more vinegar if you want brightness, a drop more sesame oil if you want depth.
- Finish and serve. Pile the salad onto a serving plate or divide into individual bowls. Scatter the toasted sesame seeds over the top, then lay the shiso chiffonade across the surface. Add a pinch of red pepper flakes or shichimi togarashi if you like a little heat. Serve immediately, or refrigerate for up to 1 hour (no longer, or the shiso will wilt and darken).
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 55 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 2g | Carbs: 8g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 310mg