Stir-Fried Chicken and Vegetable Lo Mein — The Asian Comfort Bowl That Carries You Through

The blog is growing. Not fast — nothing in my life happens fast — but steadily, the way a plant grows, the way trust builds. I have three hundred regular readers now, which is three hundred more than I expected when I started writing about miso soup at three in the morning. Some of them comment every week. Some of them email me. A woman named Sarah in Minneapolis writes to say my post about cooking through anxiety helped her start cooking again after her own diagnosis. I read her email in the kitchen and sat with it for a long time. The idea that words I wrote in the dark, nursing a baby, could reach someone in Minneapolis and change something — that is a kind of magic I am not sure I deserve but am grateful for anyway.

I made a Japanese curry this week — not Fumiko's style (she considers curry too Indian-influenced to be properly Japanese, a culinary opinion I disagree with but have learned not to debate) but the kind of curry I grew up eating from the box mix, Golden Curry brand, which every Japanese-American household has in the pantry. Potatoes, carrots, onions, chicken, simmered until thick, served over rice. It is the ultimate comfort food. It is the food equivalent of being tucked into bed. I made a huge pot and ate it for four days and by the fourth day it was even better, the way curry always is, the flavors having had time to negotiate with each other and reach consensus.

Miya rolled over for the first time on Thursday. She was on her tummy on the play mat and she pushed and grunted and suddenly she was on her back, looking as surprised as I was. I clapped and cheered and she stared at me with the expression of someone who has accidentally done something impressive and is not sure how to replicate it. Brian was at work. I texted him a video. He sent back a thumbs-up emoji. An emoji. For his daughter's first rollover. I am trying not to read significance into a thumbs-up emoji but my brain, being my brain, is reading significance into everything.

I called Fumiko. She told me that Dad rolled over at three months, which makes Miya behind schedule by Fumiko's standards. "She is slow," Fumiko said. "Like her grandfather." I chose to interpret this as affection. With Fumiko, you always choose to interpret things as affection, because the alternative is that an eighty-eight-year-old woman just called your baby slow, and that is not a conversation I want to have.

The curry I described above is mine — the Golden Curry, the big pot, the four days of leftovers getting better with each reheating — but not every week has space for a slow simmer. On the nights that do not, this stir-fried lo mein is where I land: fast, savory, full of vegetables, deeply satisfying in the way that only soy sauce and sesame oil together can be. It carries some of the same spirit as that curry — the ginger, the chicken, the sense that food made quickly can still mean something — and on the nights when I need comfort without waiting, this is the bowl I reach for.

Stir-Fried Chicken and Vegetable Lo Mein

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 8 oz lo mein noodles (or spaghetti as a substitute)
• 1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breast, thinly sliced against the grain
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
• 2 cups broccoli florets
• 1 large carrot, julienned or thinly sliced
• 1 cup snap peas, trimmed
• 1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
• 3 green onions, sliced (whites and greens separated)
• 3 tablespoons soy sauce
• 2 tablespoons oyster sauce
• 1 tablespoon sesame oil
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• Sesame seeds, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

1. Cook the noodles. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook lo mein noodles according to package directions until just tender. Drain, rinse briefly with cold water, and toss with a small drizzle of vegetable oil to prevent sticking. Set aside.
2. Make the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, oyster sauce, sesame oil, cornstarch, and sugar until smooth. Set aside.
3. Cook the chicken. Heat 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil in a large wok or skillet over high heat until shimmering. Add the chicken in a single layer, season with black pepper, and cook without stirring for 2 minutes. Flip and cook another 1–2 minutes until cooked through. Transfer to a plate.
4. Stir-fry the aromatics and vegetables. Add the remaining 1 tablespoon of oil to the same pan over high heat. Add the garlic, ginger, and white parts of the green onions and cook for 30 seconds, stirring constantly. Add the broccoli and carrots and stir-fry for 2–3 minutes. Add the snap peas and red bell pepper and cook another 2 minutes, until vegetables are tender-crisp.
5. Bring it together. Return the cooked chicken to the pan. Add the drained noodles and pour the sauce over everything. Toss well over high heat for 1–2 minutes until the sauce coats everything evenly and begins to thicken.
6. Serve. Divide into bowls and top with the green parts of the sliced green onions and sesame seeds if using. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 430 | Protein: 33g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 46g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 920mg