By The farmers market Sunday morning. Heirloom tomatoes. Shishito peppers. Yoga Tuesday and Thursday at the studio. The classes were full. The body was the body.
Miya, 9, can shape onigiri without falling apart. She uses wet hands. She knows the order without being told.
Shishito peppers blistered in cast iron. Salt. Lemon. The one in five that is hot.
The shiso. The chipped bowl. The newsletter on Sunday.
A panic flicker Tuesday evening, brief, manageable. I breathed. I drank water. I went outside and walked around the block. The flicker passed. The body did its work.
Yoga Tuesday morning. The studio in Sellwood. Eight students. The class was the class.
I read for an hour Sunday night. A book of essays by a Korean-American writer about food and grief. I underlined a paragraph that said exactly what I had been trying to say in the newsletter for months.
The rain in long sheets Tuesday afternoon. I made tea. I watched it from the porch. The cottonwoods on the next block were silver in the wet.
Therapy Tuesday. We talked about the wedding. We talked about Barbara. We talked about Fumiko. The hour passed. The work continues.
A reader sent me a handwritten card this week. Her grandmother had cooked Japanese food in 1970s Boise. She had felt alone in it. The newsletter, she wrote, made her feel less alone. I taped the card to the wall above my desk.
Miya is in elementary school. The Saturday Japanese school continues. She still complains. She is still going.
The cat was the cat. Mochi at fifteen sleeps most of the day. She still eats with enthusiasm. She still sits at the kitchen window watching the back garden.
I made onigiri for tomorrow's lunch. Three triangles. Salted plum in the center. Wrapped in nori. The cling wrap. The drawer where I keep them. The system.
I texted Miya a photo of the shiso. She texted back a heart and a single word: home.
I drove to Uwajimaya Wednesday. Kombu, bonito flakes, white miso, a small bag of mochiko for tomorrow's project. The store smells like home.
I cleaned the kitchen Sunday afternoon. Wiped the counters. Reorganized the drawer where the chopsticks live. Sharpened the knife. The reset was the reset.
Coffee with a friend Saturday morning. We talked about books, about kids, about the way our forties became our fifties. The talking is the thing.
Miya's old room is now my office. The desk is by the window. The shiso outside. The newsletter in progress. The afternoons are quiet.
Sunday farmers market in the rain. The vendors knew me. The Hood River apple stand had honeycrisps. I bought four pounds.
Made dashi at five-thirty AM. Ten minutes in the kitchen alone with the kombu and the bonito flakes. The day's first prayer.
Tomi watered the garden Saturday morning. The shiso was head-high. The shishito peppers were producing. The kabocha was running on the fence.
I wrote at the kitchen table from six to eight. The newsletter was forming. The opening sentence was the hard sentence — they always are. I rewrote it five times. The fifth time was the right time.
The neighbor's dog barked at nothing for twenty minutes Sunday afternoon. The neighbor apologized. I told him I had been writing through it and the white noise was helpful. He laughed.
The shishito peppers that week — blistered in cast iron, salted, finished with lemon — stayed with me past dinner. It’s that quality they have: mostly mild, occasionally electric, never predictable. I wanted something I could leave on the counter through the long writing mornings, something with that same quiet tension between sweet and heat. These sweet curry roasted pistachios became the thing. A small bowl by the keyboard. A snack that asks nothing of you, but rewards attention.
Sweet Curry Roasted Pistachios
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 2 cups raw shelled pistachios
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 tablespoons honey
- 1 1/2 teaspoons curry powder
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1 teaspoon brown sugar
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 325°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Make the coating. In a medium bowl, whisk together olive oil, honey, curry powder, cumin, cayenne, salt, black pepper, and brown sugar until combined.
- Coat the pistachios. Add pistachios to the bowl and stir until evenly coated.
- Spread and roast. Spread pistachios in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Roast for 13—15 minutes, stirring once halfway through, until fragrant and lightly golden.
- Cool completely. Remove from oven and allow to cool on the baking sheet for at least 10 minutes. The coating will crisp as it cools. Break apart any clusters before serving.
- Store. Transfer to an airtight container. Keep at room temperature for up to one week.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 13g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 120mg