Carrie left for Kyoto on September 1st. Robert drove her to the airport. I stayed in the kitchen — the same choice I made when she left for Emory, the same reason: the airport would break me, the security gate would break me, and I cannot be broken because Mama needs me and the kitchen needs me and the breaking can wait for the bathroom with the running water.
She called from the Tokyo layover. Her voice was electric with the particular energy of a person who is exactly where she has been dreaming of being for six years. "Mom," she said, "I'm in Japan." Three words. The entire Pacific Ocean crossed in three words. The dream arrived in three words. And the three words were enough, because the enough is what Carrie gives and what I receive, and the exchange is the love.
She called again from Kyoto. She called from Yuki's apartment, where she would spend the first night before moving into the university dorm. Yuki was audible in the background, laughing, speaking Japanese that Carrie understood and responded to, and the responding was the proof that the six years of studying were not wasted, that the flashcards and the language apps and the calligraphy brush and the kanji carved into a pumpkin on Halloween had been building toward this moment: a girl from Charleston speaking Japanese in Kyoto with a friend from Osaka, and the speaking was the arrival.
The house is two now. Naomi and Robert and Mama. The two-ness (three, but Mama is here in a way that is less than here, more than gone, the in-between that the disease creates) is the quietest the house has been since 1997, when it held just two: Naomi and Robert, newlywed, before James, before Carrie, before the affair, before the counseling, before the children, before the grandchildren that have not yet been born. The quiet is a return to the beginning. And the beginning is the place where things start.
I made miso soup. Not Lowcountry. Not Southern. Japanese. Miso, dashi, tofu, scallions. The soup was simple and clean and tasted like Carrie's new country, and the making of it was the mother's version of crossing the Pacific: I cannot go to Japan, but I can make the food of Japan, and the making is the being-there.
The miso soup was for the night she left — simple, quiet, just me and the stove and the Pacific between us. But days later, when I wanted something that carried a little more of that feeling — Japan and America in the same bite, the place where her two worlds touch — I turned to Rumaki. It’s a dish that has always lived at that Pacific crossing: Japanese flavors wrapped in something familiar, the way Carrie herself is now wrapped in a life that is both hers and new. Making these was my way of saying, again, that I am here and she is there and the ocean between us is not absence — it’s just the distance love travels.
Rumaki Appetizers
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 12 (about 24 pieces)
Ingredients
- 1/2 lb chicken livers, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
- 1 can (8 oz) whole water chestnuts, drained and halved
- 12 strips bacon, cut in half crosswise
- 1/4 cup soy sauce
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
- 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated (or 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger)
- 1 clove garlic, minced
- 1/4 teaspoon sesame oil
- Toothpicks for securing
Instructions
- Make the marinade. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, brown sugar, ginger, garlic, and sesame oil until the sugar dissolves.
- Marinate the livers. Add the chicken liver pieces to the marinade, cover, and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes (up to 2 hours for deeper flavor).
- Preheat. Heat your oven to 400°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil and set a wire rack on top.
- Assemble. Remove livers from the marinade and pat lightly dry. Place one piece of chicken liver and one water chestnut half together, then wrap tightly with a half-strip of bacon. Secure with a toothpick. Repeat with remaining ingredients.
- Bake. Arrange rumaki on the prepared rack. Bake for 18–22 minutes, turning once halfway through, until the bacon is browned and crisp and the livers are cooked through.
- Optional broil. For extra-crisp bacon, broil for 1–2 minutes at the end — watch closely so they don’t burn.
- Serve. Transfer to a platter and serve immediately while hot. Remove toothpicks before eating or remind guests they’re there.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 110 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 320mg