Green Goddess Salad Bowls

May begins. The lockdown continues but the edges are softening — outdoor spaces reopening, the farmers market expanding, the sense that the crisis is not ending but is becoming livable, the way chronic pain is not ending but is becoming livable, and I am an expert in livable pain. I have been living with anxiety for twenty years. The pandemic is a new pain in an old body, and the body knows how to carry it: one day at a time, one breath at a time, one bowl of soup at a time.

I made chirashi bowls with whatever the farmers market had — the first market trip in weeks where I felt something other than survival. I felt pleasure. The asparagus was green and snapping. The radishes were pink and cold. The eggs from the egg lady were brown and warm and I held them in my hands in the parking lot and thought: the world is still producing eggs. The chickens are still laying. The farmers are still farming. The infrastructure of food — the ancient, essential, un-closeable infrastructure — is holding. The eggs are evidence. The asparagus is evidence. The evidence says: we endure.

Miya and I planted shiso on the balcony. The seeds are from last year's plants, saved and dried and stored in an envelope in the kitchen drawer — the same way Fumiko saved seeds, the same way Ken saves seeds, the same way the family preserves continuity: one generation saves, the next generation plants. Miya pushed the seeds into the soil with her finger and I poured water and we stood on the balcony in the May sun and waited, which is what you do after planting: you wait. You trust the process. You trust the soil and the seed and the sun and you wait. I am good at waiting. I have been waiting my whole life. The question is what I am waiting for, and the answer is changing.

Brian got a call from his company — partial recall, starting in June. The beer industry is adapting. Craft beer is finding new distribution channels. Brian will have something to do besides drink beer in the bedroom, which is either a solution or a reprieve, and I suspect it is a reprieve — the way an aspirin is a reprieve from a headache, not a cure for the tumor. The tumor is the marriage. The aspirin is the job. The headache will return.

That chirashi bowl — the one with the asparagus and the radishes and the eggs still warm from the market — became this. Not a precise replica, but the same spirit: a bowl that holds everything you gathered, dressed in something green and alive and tasting unmistakably of outside. Green Goddess Salad Bowls became my May ritual because they ask you to pile in whatever is fresh and trust that the dressing will hold it all together — and some weeks, that is exactly the kind of faith you need practice in. I made these for Miya and me on the balcony, next to the shiso seedlings, and we ate in the sun and it was enough.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 cups cooked short-grain white rice or farro, warm
1 bunch asparagus, woody ends trimmed, cut into 2-inch pieces
4 large eggs
1 cup thinly sliced radishes
1 cup shredded purple cabbage
1 avocado, sliced
1/2 cup shelled edamame, thawed if frozen
2 tablespoons sesame seeds, toasted
1 tablespoon olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
Green Goddess Dressing:
1 cup packed fresh basil leaves
1/4 cup fresh tarragon leaves (or flat-leaf parsley)
2 tablespoons fresh chives, roughly chopped
1 clove garlic
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/2 cup plain Greek yogurt
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 teaspoon salt

Instructions

Make the dressing. Combine basil, tarragon, chives, garlic, lemon juice, Greek yogurt, mayonnaise, olive oil, and salt in a blender. Blend until smooth and vibrantly green. Taste and adjust seasoning. Refrigerate until ready to use.
Blanche the asparagus. Bring a small pot of salted water to a boil. Add asparagus pieces and cook 2—3 minutes until bright green and just tender. Transfer immediately to a bowl of ice water to stop cooking, then drain and pat dry.
Soft-boil the eggs. In the same pot, bring water back to a gentle boil. Carefully lower eggs in and cook exactly 7 minutes for jammy yolks. Transfer to ice water for 2 minutes, then peel and halve lengthwise.
Warm the rice. If your cooked rice has cooled, sprinkle with a few drops of water, cover, and microwave in 30-second intervals until warmed through. Season lightly with salt.
Assemble the bowls. Divide warm rice among four bowls. Arrange asparagus, radishes, cabbage, avocado slices, and edamame in sections over the rice. Nestle two egg halves into each bowl.
Dress and finish. Drizzle green goddess dressing generously over each bowl. Scatter toasted sesame seeds on top. Serve immediately, with extra dressing on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Green Goddess Salad Bowls — When the Market Feels Like Evidence