July in Portland. The city exhales into summer — the long evenings, the dry heat that surprises transplants who thought Oregon was only rain. The apartment windows are open and the sound of the neighborhood drifts in: children on bikes, someone's radio, the particular quiet of a street where everyone is outside and no one is in a hurry. I am in a hurry. I am always in a hurry inside, even when my body is still. The anxiety hums like a refrigerator — constant, low, easy to ignore until you notice it, and then impossible to un-notice.
I made hiyashi chuka this week — the cold ramen noodles with julienned vegetables and a tangy sesame-soy dressing that is Fumiko's summer go-to. The dish is architecture: thin strips of cucumber, ham, egg crepe, tomato, all arranged on top of cold noodles in a pattern that is half aesthetic and half structural. Fumiko's card says "beautiful first, delicious second," which is a philosophy I apply to food and wish I could apply to my life. My life is delicious enough — Miya is healthy, the blog is growing, I am teaching yoga and writing and surviving — but the beauty is harder. The beauty requires arrangement, and my arrangement is coming undone.
Brian went to a beer festival in Bend this weekend. Three days. He asked if I minded. I said no, because saying yes would require a conversation I am not ready to have, and also because the apartment is easier without him. Quieter. The quiet is not loneliness — or maybe it is loneliness, but a loneliness that is preferable to the particular company of a man who is present in body and absent in every other way. Miya and I had three days of our own rhythm: farmers market Saturday morning, park in the afternoon, cooking together in the evening while she stands on her stool and stirs whatever I give her to stir.
The blog post this week was about hiyashi chuka — about how summer food in Japan is about coolness, about counteracting the heat with cold noodles and bright flavors. I wrote about Fumiko serving this on August afternoons in Sacramento, the kitchen windows open, the fan oscillating in the corner. The writing came easily. The easy writing always makes me suspicious — if it's not hard, is it good? My therapist says this is the anxiety talking. Everything is the anxiety talking. The anxiety is the most talkative member of my household.
Six thousand readers now. The number means something. Not money — the blog doesn't pay enough to matter — but attention, presence, proof that the words I send into the world are landing somewhere. Six thousand people who come back each week to read about miso soup and grief and the intersection of the two. I am building something. I don't know what it is yet. But the foundation is getting stronger, post by post, week by week, the way Fumiko said dashi improves: slowly, with patience, with heat applied gently.
The hiyashi chuka I wrote about this week — the arranging, the julienning, the ritual of making something beautiful before you eat it — left me wanting to stay in that headspace a little longer. Miya and I made this Asian Veggie Glass Noodles dish on Sunday evening while the apartment was still ours, her on her stool, me laying out strips of carrot and cucumber like I was building something that mattered. It is not Fumiko’s recipe exactly, but it carries the same logic: cool noodles, bright vegetables, a dressing that wakes everything up. When you’re building something slowly — a blog, a life, a better arrangement — it helps to make at least one thing that comes together fast and looks exactly right.
Asian Veggie Glass Noodles
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 6 oz glass noodles (bean thread / cellophane noodles)
- 1 medium cucumber, julienned
- 2 medium carrots, julienned or shredded
- 1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
- 2 cups shredded red cabbage
- 3 green onions, thinly sliced
- 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves
- 2 tablespoons sesame seeds, toasted
- 3 tablespoons soy sauce (or tamari for gluten-free)
- 2 tablespoons rice vinegar
- 1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil
- 1 tablespoon honey or maple syrup
- 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
- 1 clove garlic, minced
- 1 teaspoon chili garlic sauce or sriracha (optional)
Instructions
- Soak the noodles. Place glass noodles in a large bowl and cover with boiling water. Let soak 6–8 minutes until tender and translucent. Drain, rinse under cold water, and use kitchen scissors to cut into shorter lengths. Set aside.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, honey, grated ginger, garlic, and chili garlic sauce if using. Taste and adjust seasoning — it should be tangy, savory, and just slightly sweet.
- Prep the vegetables. While the noodles soak, julienne the cucumber and carrots, slice the bell pepper and cabbage, and thinly slice the green onions. Arrange on a cutting board or plate — take a moment with this; the colors matter.
- Combine. Add the drained noodles to a large serving bowl. Pour about two-thirds of the dressing over the noodles and toss well to coat. Add the cucumber, carrots, bell pepper, and cabbage and toss again gently.
- Finish and serve. Drizzle remaining dressing over the top. Scatter green onions, cilantro, and toasted sesame seeds over everything. Serve immediately, or refrigerate up to 1 hour — the noodles absorb the dressing beautifully and taste even brighter cold.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 280 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 50g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 620mg