Spaghetti Squash Lo Mein

I started planning the Vietnam trip this week. Actually planning — spreadsheet, browser tabs, phone calls. Not just staring at flights and closing the laptop. I woke up Tuesday morning and something had shifted. I knew it was time to stop thinking about it and start doing it.

I called a travel agent — one of the Vietnamese-American travel agencies on Bolsa Avenue in Little Saigon — and talked to a woman named Mrs. Phung who has been booking trips to Vietnam for forty years. She knew exactly what I needed before I finished my first sentence. She said March of next year would be ideal: past Tet, before the monsoon, temperatures manageable. She said to plan for ten days minimum. She said most people who go back after a long absence — she said "after a long absence" which was the most delicate possible way to describe fifty years of diaspora — need at least a week just to get their bearings.

She asked who I was taking. I said my mother. She paused and said, "How old is she?" I said eighty-three. Another pause, gentler this time. "Book business class," she said. "It's sixteen hours. Don't make her suffer." I said I would book business class, knowing I had no idea how I was going to afford business class.

I called Linh that night and told her the plan had moved from theoretical to operational. She offered to help with the cost. I told her I'd figure it out. She said, "Bobby. You don't have to do everything yourself." I said, "I know." She said, "So let me help." I said I'd think about it. This is the closest Linh and I get to an argument, which tells you how much our relationship has changed from when we were kids and I was the family disappointment and she was the golden child and we basically lived in parallel.

Made my first batch of homemade bún thịt nướng this week — grilled pork over vermicelli with pickled daikon and carrots, fresh herbs, crushed peanuts, nuoc cham. It took me three hours and was worth every minute. I kept thinking about the street vendors in Ho Chi Minh City, the food I'd never actually eaten there but had eaten in its echo all my life in Houston. Next year, if everything goes right, I'll eat the real thing.

The bûn thịt nưỡng took three hours and reminded me that noodle bowls are how I process things — the chopping, the layering, the patience of it all. On a weeknight when I don’t have three hours but still need that same grounding feeling, I make this spaghetti squash lo mein: all the savory, tangled-noodle comfort of an Asian bowl, ready in just about an hour, with vegetables that remind me the pantry is never as bare as the bank account feels right now. It’s not Bội, and it’s not Ho Chi Minh City — but it gets me through the week until I can get there for real.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 50 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 medium spaghetti squash (about 3 lbs), halved lengthwise and seeded
2 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
1 cup shredded red cabbage
1 medium carrot, julienned or shredded
1 cup cremini mushrooms, sliced
1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
3 green onions, sliced (white and green parts separated)
3 tablespoons soy sauce (or tamari for gluten-free)
1 tablespoon sesame oil
1 tablespoon hoisin sauce
1 teaspoon rice vinegar
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
Sesame seeds and extra green onion tops, for garnish

Instructions

Roast the squash. Preheat oven to 400°F. Brush the cut sides of the spaghetti squash with 1 tablespoon vegetable oil and season with salt and pepper. Place cut-side down on a parchment-lined baking sheet and roast for 40–45 minutes, until the flesh is easily pierced with a fork and the strands pull apart cleanly.
Shred the squash. Let the squash cool for 5 minutes, then use a fork to scrape the flesh into long noodle-like strands. Set aside. Discard the skins.
Make the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, sesame oil, hoisin sauce, rice vinegar, and red pepper flakes (if using). Set aside.
Stir-fry the aromatics. Heat the remaining 1 tablespoon vegetable oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add the white parts of the green onions, garlic, and ginger. Cook, stirring constantly, for about 1 minute until fragrant.
Cook the vegetables. Add the mushrooms, bell pepper, carrot, and cabbage to the skillet. Stir-fry for 4–5 minutes until the vegetables are just tender but still have a little bite.
Combine and toss. Add the spaghetti squash strands to the skillet. Pour the sauce over everything. Toss well to coat all the strands and vegetables evenly. Cook for another 2 minutes, stirring, until everything is heated through and the sauce clings to the strands.
Serve. Divide among four bowls. Top with the green parts of the sliced green onions and a sprinkle of sesame seeds. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Spaghetti Squash Lo Mein — The Noodle Bowl That Holds Me Over Until Ho Chi Minh City