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Wild Rice Salad — The Forest Floor in a Different Form

Mid-September and I am working on the essay revision while Miya is at preschool. The writing hours are precious — nine to noon, three hours, the apartment quiet, the miso soup cooling on the counter, the words coming with a fluency that the blog has trained me for. Three years of weekly posts have taught me to write on deadline, to produce under pressure, to turn feeling into language when the feeling is complicated and the language is limited. The essay is getting better. The grandmother section is deeper. The deeper is harder and better and the instructor from the writing course would say: "The specificity is where the truth lives." The truth lives in Fumiko's kitchen. I am writing from inside the kitchen now.

I made mushroom tempura this week — the rich, earthy autumn version of the spring tempura I made earlier this year. Maitake mushrooms, their fronds spread like coral, dipped in cold batter and fried until the edges are crispy and the center is still slightly soft. The maitake is the most beautiful mushroom for tempura because the shape holds the batter in dramatic, organic ways, each piece unique, each piece a small sculpture of crunch and earth. I ate them with tentsuyu sauce and grated daikon and closed my eyes and the taste was fall — deep, warm, the forest floor in edible form.

Brian and I went a full week without a real conversation. Not an argument — those, at least, are a form of engagement. A full week of "good morning" and "goodnight" and "Miya needs a bath" and the functional minimum of cohabitation. We share a bed and a daughter and a kitchen and we speak in logistics. The logistics are efficient. The logistics are devastatingly empty. We are excellent co-managers of a household. We are terrible partners in a marriage. The distinction between management and partnership is the gap I have been falling into for four years, and I am tired of falling, and I am starting to wonder if the bottom of the gap is where the answer lives — not the fix, just the answer. The answer to the question my therapist asked a year ago: will the marriage survive? The answer is forming. It is in the gap. I am almost ready to look.

The mushroom tempura was the meal I made for myself—the private one, eaten standing at the counter while the essay draft dried on the screen. But the wild rice salad was what I made for us, for the table, for the logistics of dinner at six o’clock. Wild rice has always felt like the forest floor to me: dark, chewy, ancient in a way that white rice is not. It seemed right for the week—earthy and honest, something that didn’t ask anything of me except that I pay attention to the timer.

Wild Rice Salad

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 5 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 cup wild rice, rinsed
  • 2 1/2 cups vegetable broth or water
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/3 cup dried cranberries
  • 1/3 cup toasted pecans, roughly chopped
  • 3 green onions, thinly sliced
  • 2 stalks celery, thinly sliced
  • 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
  • 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
  • 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
  • 1 teaspoon maple syrup
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Instructions

  1. Cook the rice. Combine wild rice, broth, and salt in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a low simmer. Cover and cook 45–50 minutes, until the grains have opened and are tender but still slightly chewy. Drain any excess liquid and spread rice on a sheet pan to cool for 10 minutes.
  2. Make the dressing. Whisk together olive oil, apple cider vinegar, Dijon mustard, maple syrup, and black pepper in a small bowl until fully emulsified.
  3. Combine. Transfer cooled rice to a large bowl. Add dried cranberries, pecans, green onions, celery, and parsley. Pour dressing over the top and toss gently to coat everything evenly.
  4. Rest and serve. Let the salad sit at room temperature for 10 minutes before serving so the flavors settle together. Serve warm, at room temperature, or cold—it holds well in the refrigerator for up to three days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 15g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 320mg

Jen Nakamura
About the cook who shared this
Jen Nakamura
Week 163 of Jen’s 30-year story · Portland, Oregon
Jen is a forty-year-old yoga instructor and divorced mom in Portland who traded panic attacks for plants and never looked back. She's Japanese-American on her father's side — third-generation, with a family history that includes wartime internment and generational silence — and white on her mother's. Her cooking is plant-forward, intuitive, and deeply influenced by both her Japanese grandmother's techniques and the Pacific Northwest farmers market she visits every Saturday rain or shine. Which in Portland means mostly rain.

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