By James said "I love you" this week. At my apartment, on a Thursday, after I made doenjang jjigae and he ate three bowls and we were sitting on the couch and he said it: "I love you, Stephanie." Not dramatically. Plainly. The way you state a fact that you've been aware of for a while and are now saying out loud because the truth deserves air.
I said it back. "I love you too." The words came easily, which surprised me — I expected resistance, expected the adoptee's reflexive guardedness, the fear that loving means losing, the pattern of holding back because everyone who was supposed to stay has left or might leave. But the words came out smoothly, carried on four years of therapy and three months of trust and the evidence of a man who makes me matcha cake and eats my kimchi from the jar and understands the between without needing it explained. I love him. He loves me. The loving is mutual and the mutuality is the miracle, because for most of my life, love has been unilateral — I loved Karen and David without being sure the love was unconditioned, loved Kevin without being sure he'd stay, loved a birth mother I've never met without being sure she exists. The uncondition in James's love is new. The stay in his love is new. The "I love you, Stephanie," said plainly after doenjang jjigae, is the first love that expects nothing in return except the receiving of it.
Dr. Yoon asked about the moment. I told her. She said, "How did it feel in your body?" I said, "Like the first time I ate kimchi in my condo — the recognition, the cellular knowing that this is right, that this is what the thing is supposed to feel like." She said, "That's love. Cellular knowing." Cellular knowing. The phrase I used about kimchi, three and a half years ago, when the taste of fermented cabbage reached something below language, below memory, and said: this is yours. James reaches the same place. Below language. Below memory. This is yours. He is yours. You are his. The cellular knowing is love.
This week's cooking was celebratory but quiet: I made japchae and galbi and three banchan, and James and I ate at the low table, cross-legged, chopsticks in hand, the onggi pots behind us, the Korean knife on the counter, the apartment that has been my Korean headquarters for four years now hosting a second person permanently, the geometry of solitude redrawn as partnership. The food was the same — the japchae, the galbi, the dishes I've made a hundred times. But the table had two people at it instead of one, and the second person said I love you, and the food that has been my comfort and my identity and my therapy is now, also, my love language, shared with someone who speaks it fluently.
The japchae and galbi were James’s celebration dinner — Korean food is my love language, and that meal was too layered in meaning to share as a recipe right now. But a few days later, once the weight of the week had settled into something ordinary and wonderful, I made this one-skillet spaghetti for dinner, and it hit me that I’d never made it before: a recipe sized for exactly two. Not a recipe halved. Not a recipe I ate alone with leftovers in the fridge. Two portions, two plates, one skillet, one table — and it felt, without ceremony, like a declaration of its own.
One Skillet Spaghetti for Two
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 2
Ingredients
- 1/2 lb (8 oz) lean ground beef
- 1/2 small yellow onion, finely diced
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 cup marinara or tomato pasta sauce
- 1 cup low-sodium beef broth
- 1/2 cup water
- 4 oz spaghetti, broken in half
- 1/2 tsp Italian seasoning
- 1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
- Salt and black pepper, to taste
- 2 tbsp freshly grated Parmesan cheese, for serving
- Fresh basil or flat-leaf parsley, for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Brown the beef. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the ground beef and cook, breaking it apart with a spoon, until browned and no pink remains, about 5–6 minutes. Drain excess fat if needed.
- Soften the aromatics. Reduce heat to medium. Add the diced onion to the skillet and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 3 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 30 seconds more until fragrant.
- Add liquids and pasta. Pour in the marinara sauce, beef broth, and water. Stir to combine, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
- Cook the spaghetti. Add the broken spaghetti to the skillet, pressing it down to submerge in the liquid. Stir in the Italian seasoning and red pepper flakes if using. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and cook 12–14 minutes, stirring every few minutes to prevent sticking, until pasta is tender and most of the liquid is absorbed.
- Season and serve. Taste and adjust with salt and black pepper. Divide between two bowls or plates, top with Parmesan, and garnish with fresh basil or parsley if desired. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 490 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 52g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 680mg