Mid-July and the heat has settled into Portland with the permanence of a guest who has decided to stay. The apartment is warm even with the windows open, and I cook in the early morning now, before the kitchen becomes unbearable. There is something meditative about cooking at six AM — the city still quiet, the light soft and gold, Miya asleep in her room, the kitchen mine in a way it never is during the day. I make dashi in the silence and the kombu unfurls in the water like a slow thought, and the smell fills the apartment before the heat does.
I made shiso pesto this week — my invention, not Fumiko's. The balcony shiso is abundant, almost aggressive in its growth, and I needed to harvest before the leaves got too large and bitter. So I made pesto: shiso, walnuts, garlic, parmesan, olive oil. It is fusion in the truest sense — Italian technique with Japanese herb — and it is delicious in a way that feels like mine. Not inherited. Not translated. Mine. I spread it on toast and ate it standing at the counter and thought: this is what it tastes like to be a person who makes things, not just a person who preserves things.
Brian and I had a conversation this week that almost became a real conversation. We were sitting on the apartment steps after Miya's bedtime, drinking tea — me, tea; him, beer — and he said, "Are you happy?" And I said, "Are you?" And he said, "I asked first." And I said, "I know." And we sat there, both of us knowing the answer and neither of us willing to say it, because saying it would make it real, and the real has consequences, and the consequences have a daughter who sleeps upstairs and deserves better than two parents who are too afraid to tell the truth.
We didn't finish the conversation. Conversations in our marriage are like letters that never get mailed — written, addressed, stamped, and left on the counter indefinitely. The counter is getting crowded. Eventually something will fall off. I don't know if I want to be the one who pushes it or the one who waits for gravity.
I wrote a blog post about shiso pesto — about how fusion is not dilution, how combining traditions is not betraying either one. The metaphor was obviously about more than pesto. The best blog posts are always about more than food. The readers know this. I know this. The food is the door. What's behind the door is the reason anyone bothers to knock.
The shiso pesto I made didn’t last long — I spread half of it on toast and stirred the rest into a pot of broth with leftover chicken, and what came out was the simplest, most honest soup I’ve made in months. Five ingredients. No performance. Just flavor that knew exactly what it wanted to be. I’ve adapted the base recipe here to work with any pesto you love — store-bought, traditional basil, or yes, your own shiso invention — because the point isn’t the specific herb. The point is that you made a choice and you own it.
5-Ingredient Pesto Chicken Soup
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 6 cups low-sodium chicken broth
- 2 cups cooked chicken, shredded (rotisserie works perfectly)
- 1 cup small pasta (ditalini, orzo, or small shells)
- 1/3 cup pesto (store-bought or homemade — shiso pesto is wonderful here)
- 1/2 cup grated parmesan, for serving
Instructions
- Bring broth to a boil. Pour the chicken broth into a large saucepan and set over medium-high heat. Bring to a full boil.
- Cook the pasta. Add the pasta to the boiling broth and cook according to package directions until just al dente, about 7—9 minutes. Reduce heat to medium.
- Add the chicken. Stir in the shredded cooked chicken and let it warm through for 2—3 minutes.
- Stir in pesto. Remove the pot from heat and stir in the pesto. Taste and adjust salt if needed. Adding pesto off the heat keeps its color bright and its flavor fresh.
- Serve immediately. Ladle into bowls and finish generously with grated parmesan. Eat standing at the counter if you need to. No judgment.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 620mg