Back to school. Tyler is a senior. A SENIOR. My firstborn is in his last year of high school and I need someone to explain to me how this happened because I'm fairly certain he was learning to walk last Thursday.
Tyler's plan: finish high school, then community college for automotive technology at Houston Community College. He looked into four-year engineering programs but decided — on his own, without pressure — that he wants hands-on training, not theory. He wants to work on cars, not design them on a computer. I respect this. Not every path needs a four-year degree, and Tyler knows what he wants, which is more than I knew at forty.
Emma's a sophomore. She's taking AP English, AP Biology, and honors everything else. She's back in the cooking club and already talking about the spring competition. She's also started a food blog — not RecipeSpinoff, her own blog, on a platform I don't understand because I'm forty-four and platforms change faster than I can learn them. She writes recipes with her own photos and her own voice. The voice is different from mine — more precise, more analytical, less profanity. She's her own thing.
Lily's starting seventh grade. She's thirteen in December. The middle school years are in full bloom — drama with friends, opinions about everything, the occasional eye roll that could be classified as a weather event. But she's still cooking. She's still watching food videos. She asked me this week to teach her how to make curry from scratch — not the Vietnamese kind, the Thai kind. I said, "I'll try." She said, "If you don't know, we'll learn together." That's what Emma said two years ago about Indian food. These girls.
First day lunches: Tyler packs his own now — he makes a banh mi every morning in under three minutes (the Tran family speedrunning gene is genetic). Emma packs elaborate bento boxes that look like food photography. Lily packs whatever leftovers are in the fridge, arranged haphazardly but with love.
Senior year. Sophomore year. Seventh grade. Three kids in motion. One father standing at the smoker, watching them go.
Tyler doesn’t need me in the kitchen anymore — three-minute baânh mì is proof of that — but I still make a big bowl of this vermicelli pasta salad on Sunday nights so there’s something cold and ready in the fridge when the week gets loud. The thin noodles remind me of the bún dishes my mom used to stretch across four people, and the bright, acidic dressing is close enough to the weeknight pho instinct that it scratches the same itch without the two-hour broth. Senior year moves fast. At least dinner prep doesn’t have to.
Vermicelli Pasta Salad
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 12 oz vermicelli pasta
- 1 cup cucumber, thinly sliced and halved
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
- 1/2 cup red bell pepper, thinly sliced
- 1/2 cup shredded carrots
- 1/3 cup red onion, thinly sliced
- 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
- 1/4 cup green onions, sliced
- 1/3 cup rice vinegar
- 3 tablespoons soy sauce
- 2 tablespoons sesame oil
- 1 tablespoon honey or sugar
- 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon chili flakes (optional)
- 2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds
Instructions
- Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook vermicelli according to package directions until just tender, about 8–10 minutes. Drain and rinse immediately under cold water to stop cooking. Shake off excess water and set aside.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the rice vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, honey, grated ginger, and minced garlic until the honey is fully dissolved. Taste and adjust — more vinegar for brightness, more honey to balance.
- Prep the vegetables. While the pasta cools, slice the cucumber, halve the cherry tomatoes, slice the bell pepper, and thinly cut the red onion. Rough-chop the cilantro and slice the green onions.
- Combine. Add the cooled vermicelli to a large bowl. Pour about two-thirds of the dressing over the pasta and toss to coat evenly. Add all the vegetables, cilantro, and green onions and toss again gently.
- Finish and chill. Drizzle remaining dressing over the top. Sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds and chili flakes if using. Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before serving to let the flavors come together.
- Serve. Toss once more before serving. Works cold straight from the fridge — which is exactly the point.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 240 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 380mg
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 124 of Bobby’s 30-year story
· Houston, Texas
Bobby Tran was born in a refugee camp in Arkansas to parents who fled Saigon with nothing. He grew up in Houston straddling two worlds — Vietnamese at home, Texan everywhere else — and learned to cook from his mother's pho and a neighbor's BBQ smoker. He's a former shrimper, a recovering alcoholic, a divorced dad of three, and the guy who marinates brisket in fish sauce and lemongrass because he doesn't believe in borders, especially when it comes to flavor.