Mid-October. The book revision is halfway done and the process is changing me — not the writing, which has always changed me, but the editing, which is teaching me to see my own words from outside, the way a sculptor steps back from the clay to see the shape. The shape of the book is becoming clear: it is a spiral, starting with miso soup and spiraling outward through Fumiko and the internment and Ken's garden and my marriage and my divorce and Miya and the chipped bowl, and then spiraling back to miso soup. The spiral is the structure. The miso soup is the center.
I made matsutake gohan — pine mushroom rice — because the matsutake appeared at the farmers market and the price was outrageous and the fragrance was intoxicating and Fumiko would have insisted. Matsutake is the most prized mushroom in Japanese cuisine — woodsy, piney, aromatic, the mushroom equivalent of truffle but more subtle, more Japanese. You cook it with rice and a splash of sake and dashi and the kitchen fills with a scent that is forest and ocean and earth and you close your eyes and you are in Japan, in a mountain kitchen, in October, and the mushroom has transported you without a passport. Fumiko made matsutake gohan once a year, and once a year the kitchen in Sacramento was a kitchen in Nagano, and the transporting was the magic, and the magic was the mushroom, and the mushroom was outrageously expensive then too.
Halloween approaches and Miya wants to be a "writer" this year. A writer. She has a notebook and a pen and she says, "Like mama." I am making her a costume that is, essentially, regular clothes plus a notebook and a pen and a badge that says "WRITER," and the costume is both hilarious and profound, because you cannot dress as a writer, because a writer looks like anyone, because the only thing that distinguishes a writer from a non-writer is the sentences, and the sentences are invisible, and the invisible is what Miya is trying to make visible by sticking a badge on her shirt. She understands the problem better than she knows.
Matsutake only appears for a few weeks, and once the farmers market stand is gone it is gone, and you have to feed yourself on the other days too —rsquo; the ordinary October days when the kitchen does not smell like a mountain in Nagano. On those days I reach for something that still honors the season without requiring magic: a quinoa tabbouleh, bright with herbs and lemon, simple as a sentence that does its job without asking for applause. Fumiko would have approved of the restraint. Miya, who ate two bowls and got herb on her new notebook, approved for different reasons.
Quinoa Tabbouleh
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 cup quinoa, rinsed
- 2 cups water or vegetable broth
- 1 1/2 cups fresh flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
- 1/2 cup fresh mint leaves, finely chopped
- 3 medium tomatoes, diced small
- 1 English cucumber, diced small
- 4 green onions, thinly sliced
- 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (about 1 large lemon)
- 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
- 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt, or to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
- Cook the quinoa. Combine rinsed quinoa and water (or broth) in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 12–14 minutes until the liquid is absorbed and the quinoa is fluffy. Remove from heat and let stand, covered, for 5 minutes.
- Cool the quinoa. Spread the cooked quinoa on a sheet pan or large plate and let it cool to room temperature, about 10 minutes. Warm quinoa will wilt the herbs, so do not skip this step.
- Prep the vegetables and herbs. While the quinoa cools, finely chop the parsley and mint, dice the tomatoes and cucumber, and slice the green onions. Combine them all in a large mixing bowl.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and black pepper until emulsified.
- Combine and toss. Add the cooled quinoa to the bowl with the vegetables and herbs. Pour the dressing over everything and toss gently until well combined. Taste and adjust salt and lemon as needed.
- Rest and serve. Let the tabbouleh sit for at least 10 minutes before serving so the flavors can meld. Serve at room temperature or lightly chilled. Keeps refrigerated for up to 3 days.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 270 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 310mg