Roasted Spring Vegetable and Crispy Farro Salad

Mother's Day, year two. Brian remembered. He took Miya at seven AM and I had the apartment to myself for three glorious hours. I made miso soup. I sat at the kitchen table and drank it from the chipped ceramic bowl and watched the morning light move across the counter and I wrote. I wrote about last year's Mother's Day, about Barbara's pancakes, about Fumiko's phone call, about the lineage of mothers that stretches behind me and ahead of me. I wrote without stopping, without editing, without the internal critic that usually sits on my shoulder and whispers that no one wants to hear this. For three hours, I told the critic to shut up. The critic did. The writing came.

Brian came home with Miya at ten, and she ran — toddled, technically, but with the urgency of running — toward me and grabbed my legs and said "mama" and I picked her up and held her and the morning of solitude was over and the afternoon of motherhood began and both were necessary and both were mine.

I called Fumiko. She said, "Happy Mother's Day," in her formal way, and then she said something she has never said before: "You are a good mother, Jennifer." Not "acceptable." Not "adequate." Good. From Fumiko, "good" is the highest praise available. I sat on the kitchen floor after we hung up and cried — the kind of tears that come when someone says the thing you have been needing to hear, the thing you have been afraid was not true, and the hearing of it cracks something open that you did not know was sealed.

I made my version of Fumiko's miso-glazed eggplant for dinner — nasu dengaku, eggplant halves scored and broiled, then glazed with a sweet white miso paste. The eggplant is creamy and rich, the miso caramelized and slightly sweet, and the combination is one of those dishes that makes you wonder why eggplant ever gets a bad reputation. It is, I think, because most people have only had poorly cooked eggplant. Eggplant cooked with care is a revelation. Most things cooked with care are a revelation. Most people cared for with care are a revelation. The care is the thing. The care is always the thing.

Brian opened a beer at dinner. Just one. He asked about my morning. I told him it was perfect. He smiled, genuinely, and said, "Good. You deserved it." And I thought: he does see me. Not always. Not completely. But sometimes, in the right light, he sees me. And sometimes is something.

That dinner deserved something made slowly, with attention — the way Fumiko always cooked, the way her approval finally felt, like something earned and real. The nasu dengaku I described above is the dish I made that night, and this roasted spring vegetable and crispy farro salad is the version I return to when I want that same quality of care in a single bowl: vegetables given enough heat and enough time to become exactly what they’re meant to be, grains crisped until they snap, everything dressed simply so nothing hides. It is the kind of cooking that asks you to slow down, and I have learned — slowly — that slowing down is its own form of gratitude.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 cup semi-pearled farro, rinsed
2 1/2 cups vegetable broth or water
1 small eggplant, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 bunch asparagus, woody ends trimmed, cut into 2-inch pieces
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1 medium zucchini, cut into half-moons
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons white miso paste
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
1 tablespoon honey or maple syrup
1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil
2 scallions, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds
Small handful fresh herbs (parsley, mint, or basil), torn

Instructions

Cook the farro. Combine farro and broth in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer 25—30 minutes until tender but still chewy. Drain any excess liquid and spread on a sheet pan to cool slightly.
Roast the vegetables. Preheat oven to 425°F. Toss eggplant, asparagus, cherry tomatoes, and zucchini on a large rimmed sheet pan with 2 tablespoons olive oil, salt, and pepper. Spread in a single layer. Roast 25—30 minutes, turning once halfway through, until edges are caramelized and vegetables are tender.
Crisp the farro. While vegetables finish roasting, heat remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil in a wide skillet over medium-high heat. Add cooled farro in a single layer. Press gently with a spatula and cook undisturbed 4—5 minutes until the bottom is golden and crispy. Stir and cook another 2 minutes. Season lightly with salt.
Make the miso dressing. Whisk together miso paste, rice vinegar, honey, and sesame oil in a small bowl until smooth. Thin with 1—2 teaspoons warm water if needed to reach a pourable consistency.
Assemble. Spread crispy farro on a large platter or divide among bowls. Top with roasted vegetables. Drizzle generously with miso dressing. Finish with scallions, sesame seeds, and torn herbs. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Roasted Spring Vegetable and Crispy Farro Salad — The Care Is the Thing