Peanut Soba Noodles with Broccoli and Red Pepper

August heat and Portland is melting. The apartment hit ninety-four degrees on Thursday and I finally installed the window AC unit, an act of surrender that felt like victory. Cool air poured into the bedroom like a gift from a more civilized climate and Miya stood in front of it with her arms out, laughing, her hair blowing back, looking like a tiny model in a music video. I photographed her. I will remember this image when she is fifteen and refuses to be photographed.

I made Japanese cold noodle salad — hiyashi chuka style, with ramen noodles, julienned cucumber and ham and egg crepe, dressed with a tangy sesame-soy dressing. It is the lunch I eat three times a week in August because it is cold and it is good and it takes twelve minutes and twelve minutes is the maximum time I want to spend in a hot kitchen. I also made mugicha — cold barley tea — which is the Japanese summer drink, brewed from roasted barley and served ice-cold, nutty and refreshing and caffeine-free, which matters when you are nursing and also when you are anxious, because caffeine and anxiety have a relationship that is best described as arsonist and kindling.

I submitted the Fumiko's kitchen essay to three magazines this week. Three envelopes, three cover letters, three stamps. The act of mailing felt like sending a part of myself into the world — literally, pieces of paper with my words on them, traveling through the postal system to strangers' desks. I told no one except Lin, who said, "Three at once? Bold." It is not bold. It is efficient anxiety management — if I submit to three, the rejection from one is cushioned by the hope of the other two. This is not optimism. It is risk diversification. My father the food inspector would approve of the strategy.

Miya is sixteen months old and she has entered a phase where she follows me everywhere in the kitchen. Not to help — she is too small to help — but to be near. She stands by my legs and watches me chop and stir and she absorbs, the way I absorbed in Fumiko's kitchen, the way Ken absorbed in Fumiko's kitchen before me. We are a family that teaches by proximity. The student stands close. The teacher cooks. The knowledge transfers through the feet, through the steam, through the air itself.

Hiyashi chuka is my August religion, but on the weeks I want something a little heartier — when the essays have been sent and the waiting has begun and I need food that feels like it is doing something for me — I turn to these peanut soba noodles. They have the same cold, tangy, sesame-forward logic as the noodle salad I described above, but the broccoli and red pepper make it feel like a meal that could sustain a person through the particular exhaustion of hope. Miya approves of the noodles. She ate four of them directly off the cutting board and I let her, because twelve minutes in a hot kitchen earns you certain freedoms.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

8 oz soba noodles
2 cups broccoli florets, cut small
1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
2 scallions, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon sesame seeds, toasted
3 tablespoons creamy peanut butter
2 tablespoons soy sauce (or tamari for gluten-free)
1 tablespoon rice vinegar
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1 tablespoon honey or maple syrup
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
1 clove garlic, minced
2–3 tablespoons warm water, to thin sauce
Red pepper flakes, to taste (optional)

Instructions

Cook the noodles. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Cook soba noodles according to package directions, usually 4–5 minutes. In the last 2 minutes of cooking, add the broccoli florets directly to the pot.
Rinse and cool. Drain the noodles and broccoli together in a colander, then rinse thoroughly under cold running water until completely chilled. This stops the cooking and keeps the noodles from clumping.
Make the peanut sauce. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together peanut butter, soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, honey, ginger, and garlic until smooth. Add warm water one tablespoon at a time until the sauce reaches a pourable, dressing-like consistency.
Combine. Transfer the cold noodles and broccoli to a large bowl. Add the sliced red pepper. Pour the peanut sauce over the top and toss well to coat everything evenly.
Garnish and serve. Divide into bowls and top with scallions, toasted sesame seeds, and a pinch of red pepper flakes if desired. Serve immediately, or refrigerate for up to one day — the noodles hold up well cold.

Nutrition (per serving)

Peanut Soba Noodles with Broccoli and Red Pepper — The Cold Noodle Lunch That Gets Me Through August