Pigs in a Poncho -- Wrapped Up Like a Second Book, a Second Letting-Go

Late June. The Two Kitchens advance copies arrived — the second book, the larger press, the national distribution. I held it in both hands the way I held the first book: like a bowl. The book is a bowl. The book holds a story. The story is mine and Barbara's and Fumiko's — the three kitchens (I miscounted — there are three, not two, the third being my own, the Portland kitchen that is neither Japanese nor American but both) — and the story is the space between them, the space where I live, the space that the newsletter calls Dashi.

I made Barbara's meatloaf to mark the occasion — the American recipe, the chapter-one recipe, the food that the book begins with because the book begins with Barbara, with the American kitchen, with the loud, casserole-serving, opinion-having mother who taught me that love is volume and food is love and therefore food is loud. The meatloaf was good. Not oishii — good. The distinction persists. The distinction is the book.

I sent advance copies to: Ken (who will read it and say three words), Barbara (who will read it and say three hundred words), Brian (who will read it and say "that's really cool, Jen"), Miya (who will proofread it), Lin (who will say "the hardest and the best"), and Sarah (who already has it). The sending is the letting-go. The letting-go is the second time. The second time is easier than the first. The second time, you know what happens: the book goes into the world, the world reads it, the world responds, the response is beyond your control, the control is the soup. Make the soup. Let the book go.

The Dashi newsletter now has six thousand subscribers. The growth is accelerating — each issue shared, each share producing new subscribers, the exponential math of content that resonates. The resonating is the raw. The raw is the Dashi. The Dashi is six thousand kitchens connected to mine.

Barbara’s meatloaf was the right dish for the occasion—chapter one, loud love, American kitchen—but after the copies were sent and the letting-go was done, I wanted something that felt a little more celebratory, a little less solemn: food you could pass around, food that laughs. These Pigs in a Poncho are exactly that. They’re the kind of thing Barbara would set out on a tray without apology, and that’s precisely why they felt right for the second time around—when you already know what happens, you can afford to enjoy it.

Pigs in a Poncho

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 1 can (8 oz) refrigerated crescent roll dough
• 8 cocktail sausages or mini hot dogs
• 4 slices American cheese, each cut into 2 strips
• 2 tablespoons yellow mustard
• 1 tablespoon ketchup
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)

Instructions

1. Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 375°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.
2. Prepare the dough. Unroll the crescent dough and separate it into 8 triangles along the perforated lines.
3. Season the dough. Mix garlic powder and smoked paprika together, then lightly dust over the surface of each dough triangle.
4. Add cheese and mustard. Place one strip of American cheese along the wide end of each triangle. Add a small drizzle of mustard on top of the cheese.
5. Wrap the sausages. Place one cocktail sausage at the wide end of each triangle. Roll the dough snugly around the sausage toward the pointed tip, tucking the sides in slightly so the sausage is fully “poncho-wrapped.”
6. Apply egg wash. Brush each wrapped sausage with beaten egg to help them brown evenly.
7. Bake. Arrange on the prepared baking sheet and bake for 12—15 minutes, until the dough is golden brown and cooked through.
8. Serve. Remove from the oven and let cool for 2 minutes. Serve warm with ketchup or additional mustard for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 17g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 480mg