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Cashew Chicken and Broccoli — The Rice That Holds Everything Together

Mid-March. Five years since my first RecipeSpinoff blog post — five years since I sat at the kitchen table at two AM, nursing Miya with one arm and typing with the other, writing about miso soup because it was the only thing I could eat and the only thing I could say. Five years. Two hundred and sixty posts. Eleven thousand readers. A dozen essays. Three book chapters. A divorce. A grandmother lost. A life remade. The blog is the thread that runs through all of it — the constant, the practice, the thing I have done every week for five years without interruption, the way I have made miso soup every morning without interruption, the way Fumiko made dashi every morning without interruption. The practice is the inheritance. The blog is the practice. I am the thread.

I made osekihan — red bean rice — to mark the anniversary. Osekihan is celebration rice in Japan, served at milestones: births, graduations, achievements. The red beans turn the rice pink and the pink is festive and the festivity is earned. Five years of writing deserves pink rice. Five years of showing up deserves red beans. The blog was not planned. The blog was survival. The survival became a practice. The practice became a career. The career is building itself, brick by brick, the way dashi improves with patience and heat.

I submitted the book outline to three literary agents. The submission was Lin's idea — "You have enough material now," she said, with the matter-of-fact certainty that Lin brings to everything. Three agents. Three emails. Three moments of clicking "send" and then standing in the kitchen breathing. The anxiety says: they will reject you. The writing says: they will see you. I trust the writing more than the anxiety now, which is the most significant change of the last five years, more significant than the divorce, more significant than the readership, more significant than anything except Miya.

Ken called on Sunday. He asked about the blog's anniversary, which surprised me — Ken does not track anniversaries, does not mark occasions, does not acknowledge the passage of time unless the passage has affected his daikon. But he asked. And when I told him, five years, he said, "Your grandmother would have liked to read it." He did not say "I read it." He did not say "I like it." He said Fumiko would have liked it, which is Ken's way of saying both of those things through the proxy of a dead woman, because saying them directly would require emotional vocabulary he does not possess. I heard him. I always hear him. The translation is automatic now.

I made osekihan—pink rice, red beans, earned festivity—but I cannot share the exact recipe here, because osekihan is Fumiko’s recipe and Fumiko’s recipe lives in my hands and not yet on the page. What I can share is the dish I made the night after: cashew chicken and broccoli over a deep bowl of white rice, the kind of meal that is fast enough for a Tuesday and good enough for a five-year anniversary, the kind of meal that says “you did something real.” The rice underneath is the point. The rice is always the point.

TRANSITION_START

Cashew Chicken and Broccoli

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 3 cups broccoli florets
  • 3/4 cup roasted cashews (unsalted)
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
  • 3 tablespoons low-sodium soy sauce
  • 1 tablespoon oyster sauce
  • 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
  • 1 teaspoon sesame oil
  • 1 tablespoon cornstarch
  • 1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
  • 2 tablespoons neutral oil (such as avocado or canola), divided
  • 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
  • 2 green onions, thinly sliced, for garnish
  • Cooked white or brown rice, for serving

Instructions

  1. Make the sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together the soy sauce, oyster sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, cornstarch, and chicken broth until smooth. Set aside.
  2. Sear the chicken. Heat 1 tablespoon of oil in a large skillet or wok over medium-high heat. Add the chicken in a single layer and cook without stirring for 3–4 minutes, until golden on the bottom. Flip and cook another 2–3 minutes until cooked through. Transfer to a plate.
  3. Cook the broccoli. Add the remaining tablespoon of oil to the pan. Add the broccoli florets and stir-fry over high heat for 3–4 minutes, until bright green and just tender with a slight char at the edges.
  4. Build the aromatics. Push the broccoli to the side and add the garlic, ginger, and red pepper flakes (if using) to the center of the pan. Cook for 30 seconds, stirring constantly, until fragrant.
  5. Bring it together. Return the chicken to the pan. Pour the sauce over everything and toss to coat. Cook for 1–2 minutes, stirring, until the sauce thickens and everything is glazed and glossy.
  6. Add the cashews. Remove from heat and stir in the cashews. Taste and adjust seasoning if needed.
  7. Serve. Spoon over rice and garnish with sliced green onions.

Nutrition (per serving, not including rice)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 620mg

Jen Nakamura
About the cook who shared this
Jen Nakamura
Week 237 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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