Rice Noodle Bowl Blog Kickoff
This is it. Gulp. THE FIRST POST. And yet, in so many ways, this is not the beginning of the story. You’re joining me right in the middle of the action (in media res, as we called it in creative writing class and screen writing class). This is Act II. Midlife. Although at times what it really feels like is a second adolescence! I’m back in graduate school, newly engaged, and working on starting a family with my fiancé (I’m forty. We've had two pregnancies and two miscarriages so far, but we aren’t giving up).
Now you’re probably wondering if the name of this blog is some kind of fertility reference. Eggs are a pretty great symbol of new life and potential. And peas are an excellent metaphor for babies (like buns in the oven or a peas in a pod). My fiancé and I really do want to have a baby! And I really do love me some multiple meanings! In Hawaiian, we call these poetic hidden meanings kaona (I was born and raised in Hawai`i – more posts on that to come). But back to“Eggs and Peas." Aside from their literal reference to an actual dish made by my maternal grandmother (and her mother and maybe even her mother's mother), for me "Eggs and Peas" symbolizes healing, new beginnings, and embracing the deliciousness of imperfection. Eggs and peas is the dish that captures my familial culinary story from its roots to its legacy.
The kaona of “Eggs and Peas” makes it the perfect title for this blog. But, this isn’t the "Eggs and Peas" backstory post. That post will come along in time. This is the blog kickoff post. It's a post about honoring the present moment, and making something (a noodle bowl) out of nothing (the ingredients you already have).
At the heart of this dish are pantry-foraged rogue rice noodles, long ago separated from their DIY Pad Thai kit. They are accompanied by braised bok choy, pan-cooked mushrooms, fresh sliced carrots and daikon radishes, and some leftover oven-poached salmon. This meal really happened. I was craving a noodle bowl and manifested these pad Thai rice noodles from deep within the bowels of our pantry. When the universe grants you the very noodles you seek, you make a noodle bowl!
Today’s rainy winter weather (par for the course here in Portland, Oregon) made for the perfect backdrop for this steaming bowl of chewy, slurp-worthy rice noodles bathing in homemade bone broth and topped with all the fixin’s.
Ingredients:
1 package of Pad Thai (wide) rice noodles
1 carrot (sliced into thins sticks)
1 daikon radish (sliced into coins)
5-6 mushrooms (sliced)
leftover protein (salmon)
1 sprig of parsley
1 quart of broth (I used homemade chicken bone broth)
salt for boiling water and seasoning
tamari to taste
Play-by-Play:
Bring salted water to a boil in a pot. Meanwhile prep (rinse, clean, peel, and chop or slice) the veggies: bok choy, carrots, daikon radishes, and mushrooms.
Braise the bok choy in a saucepan with about 1 inch of water. Cook until tender and supple and set them aside.
Put 1 tsp of oil into a hot skillet and space the sliced mushrooms out (flat sides down) in the pan and let them be for a bit (1-3 minutes) so that they can caramelize. Resist the urge to stir-fry them. You’ll know when it’s time to flip them over when they give off a really yummy umami aroma. When both sides are brown, boom, they’re done!
When water is boiling, place the rice noodles in to the pot and cook just until al dente. I used tongs to pull individual noodles out to check for doneness. You want your noodles to have some bite to them so that they don’t get mushy in the hot broth. Carefully pour the al dente rice noodles into a colander in the sink.
Heat up your broth. I heated up a quart and used about 2/3rds of it. You can bring your broth to a boil on the stove or zap it in the mic.
While the broth is heating, plate (or in this case “bowl”) your dish. Nestle your al dente noodles in the bowl. Top with your veggies and protein. Carefully pour the hot broth over everything and slurp away!
