Quinoa To Water Ratio

I want to establish a ritual with Jisoo. I told her this in my letter on Tuesday. I said I wanted us to have a weekly exchange — same day each week, a letter with details of life, food, weather, a photograph if we had one. Not every letter has to be heavy. Some letters can just be: here is what I cooked. Here is what the sky looked like. Jisoo loved this idea. She said she had been trying to figure out how to ask for something similar. We have decided Saturday mornings, her time, which is Friday evenings mine. I will write on Fridays after work. She will respond on Saturdays.

This is the first blog post I am writing after the first Friday letter. I wrote her about July 30th — a long account of the week, the food I had cooked, a photograph of my kimchi fridge (yes I have a small second fridge just for ferments; yes this is embarrassing; yes I have owned it since 2019). She wrote back about her week. She told me about the persimmon tree in her neighbor's yard, the fish market she walks to on Saturdays, the particular kind of anchovies she uses for stock that are only available in Busan. She sent me a photo of the anchovies — a small heap of dried silvery fish in a woven basket. I printed the photo. It is on my kitchen corkboard now. I will see it every day. It is the first thing I have ever had in my kitchen that came from Jisoo.

Karen came up to Capitol Hill on Sunday for brunch. She said David had been fussing too much and she needed a day out. We went to a French place near Volunteer Park. She ate a slice of quiche slowly and drank half a mimosa. She asked me, over the second cup of coffee, whether I thought I would go to Korea soon. I said I was waiting for Jisoo to say when she was ready. Karen said, "Don't wait too long, honey. Life moves." I said, "I won't, Mom." She reached across the table and put her shaking hand over mine. She said, "I want you to have everything. Don't let me slow you down." I wanted to say you aren't slowing me down, Mom, but I knew she wasn't asking me to say that. She was asking me to believe her. I nodded. She patted my hand. We finished our coffees.

Work: the Alexa intent model project is progressing. I have a team of twelve now and I am in the stage of the project where I am a full-time people manager, which is not a role I enjoy. Priya said, "This is the part. Lead through it." I am leading through it. I am also fantasizing, privately, about leaving Amazon someday. Not now. Someday. The fantasy has not sharpened into a plan. It is just a soft edge in my mind — a corner that might become a door.

I made bap, rice, this week every day for dinner. Just rice. With various sides. It felt like the right week for simple food. Jisoo wrote about how the rice cooker she has had for twenty-one years is still working. I have had mine for nine. We exchanged rice cooker brands like women comparing sewing machines. She uses a Cuckoo. I use a Zojirushi. Both, she said, are good.

Dr. Yoon this week: we are planning for the video call. It will be soon. Not this month. Maybe September. Jisoo needs time. I need time. The agency needs to arrange the translator. The pace is right.

The recipe this week is bap — rice — cooked with attention, rinsed three times, fluffed with a paddle, served in the bowls Jisoo and I are both using, on opposite sides of an ocean.

This was a week of bap — rice, plain and careful, rinsed three times and fluffed with a paddle — and I kept thinking about how much intention goes into something so simple. When I talked to Jisoo about our rice cookers, what we were really talking about was attention: the kind of steady, unhurried care you give to a thing you plan to do for the rest of your life. Quinoa asks for the same thing. The ratio is everything, and if you treat it like rice — measured, rinsed, tended — it rewards you the same way a good bowl of bap does, with warmth and something that feels, quietly, like enough.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 cup dry quinoa, rinsed thoroughly under cold water
1 3/4 cups water or low-sodium vegetable broth
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon olive oil or unsalted butter (optional)

Instructions

Rinse the quinoa. Place quinoa in a fine-mesh strainer and rinse under cold running water for 30–60 seconds, rubbing gently with your hand. This removes the natural bitter coating (saponin). Drain well.
Toast (optional but recommended). In a medium saucepan over medium heat, add the rinsed quinoa and stir constantly for 1–2 minutes until it smells nutty and the grains look dry. This deepens the flavor.
Add liquid and bring to a boil. Pour in the water or broth and add the salt. Increase heat to medium-high and bring to a full boil.
Reduce and simmer. Once boiling, reduce heat to low, cover with a tight-fitting lid, and simmer for 15 minutes. Do not lift the lid during this time.
Rest off the heat. Remove the saucepan from heat and let stand, covered, for 5 minutes. This allows the grains to steam through to the center.
Fluff and serve. Uncover and use a fork to gently fluff the quinoa, lifting from the bottom. Add olive oil or butter if using. Serve immediately as a base or side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Quinoa To Water Ratio — The Same Patience You Give Good Rice