Cooking with an Empty Refrigerator

A dinner idea for when summer has you coming and going: nori, rice, and tinned fish

Wedding season is most definitely upon us, and last weekend we had the pleasure of driving upstate to celebrate my cousin Luke’s marriage to the wonderful Maeve. The wedding was hosted on the campus of a boarding school where my cousin used to teach, which made me feel right at home. I grew up as a faculty kid on a similar campus, often living in homes attached to dorms, so it was nostalgic to spend the weekend in a dorm alongside much of my family, connected to a faculty apartment that reminded me of the ones we inhabited throughout my childhood.¹

The students had already gone home for the summer, and the atmosphere brought back a familiar feeling: the campus becoming my playground again after everyone scattered across the country and the world for summer break. The lawns were verdant and meticulously mown, every surface seemingly freshly dusted. Walking trails wound through the quiet woods at the edge of campus. When you stopped and listened, you could hear birds chirping and leaves rustling. I felt a surge of gratitude for having grown up and had the opportunity to study in such a serene and well-tended environment.

Beyond the beauty of the campus, one thing that stood out to me all weekend was how relaxed Luke and Maeve seemed. When I commented on it to my aunt, Luke’s mother, she said that this kind of ease is a reflection of being with the right person. I thought that was such a lovely observation. It made me feel grateful to experience the same kind of ease in my own relationship.

I returned to the city after the wedding for just a few days, and now, after what feels like a single breath later, I’m leaving town again. Such is summer life: joyful, migratory, overcommitted.

When we have travel plans and know we’ll be flitting in and out of the apartment, I try especially hard not to overshop or overfill the refrigerator, knowing that the odds of us finishing everything while it’s still fresh are slim. But when I’m home between trips, I still want to cook simple, nourishing meals and eat them at my own table. The challenge is finding recipes that don’t require a long shopping list, but still taste fresh and satisfying. It’s the art of cooking with an empty, or near-empty, refrigerator.

The other day, I was reading the New York Times daily newsletter, which featured an interview with the paper’s new co-restaurant critics, Tejal Rao and Ligaya Mishan. First, let me just say that I love that these women — two of my longtime favorite food writers — are our city’s new restaurant critics. Second, I was charmed by their answers to a question about their go-to meals at home.

Their job is to eat: to try menus in their entirety, to know the New York City restaurant scene better than anyone, and to bring a critical eye to it all. I love that when they’re home, they crave anything but complicated, oversaturated restaurant food. They want rice, vegetables, and protein, prepared simply and well. Tejal’s answer especially resonated with me. This is because one of my favorite meals — particularly when there’s little in the refrigerator — is crisp nori, warm sushi rice, a little protein (usually tinned fish), and whatever toppings happen to be around. It’s a reset for both body and spirit, and conveniently built from pantry staples.

It can also be dressed up for a special occasion. This past Valentine’s Day, Teo and I made an excursion to a Japanese market for pristine sushi-grade fish and glistening salmon roe, then stopped by our neighborhood grocery store for a ripe avocado and a box of microgreens. That evening, we built fancy hand rolls at home, starting with a fresh batch of sushi rice in our beloved rice cooker. But really, those special additions only gilded the lily. The heart of the meal remained the same: nori, rice, and fish.

This meal works just as well for date nights and dinner parties as it does for evenings when your energy is low and your refrigerator nearly empty. A few pantry staples, a flexible assortment of toppings, and dinner is done.

Let’s break it down…

Nori
Buy it at a Japanese market if you can. Some grocery stores, like Trader Joe’s, carry roasted seaweed snacks, which work in a pinch. The difference is that seaweed snacks are made with thinner sheets of nori and are lightly oiled and roasted, leading to a delicious crunchy snack, but something that’s less flexible and well-suited to filling and rolling than nori. Another benefit of nori is that it comes in larger sheets that you can cut with kitchen scissors into your ideal size.

Rice
Sushi rice is what you want for this meal: short-grain rice with a sticky texture that’s easy to scoop and roll. I make it in a rice cooker because it’s effortless and comes out perfectly every time, but a pot works as well. Once it’s cooked, I like to season it with a splash of seasoned rice vinegar and (untraditionally) a small pat of salted butter.

Fish
Tinned fish works beautifully here. Sardines, salmon, trout, tuna — whatever appeals to you. If you’d like a little more punch, mix it with a squeeze of mayonnaise and a drizzle of sriracha or chili oil. If you’re feeling fancy — and if you’re lucky enough to live near a Japanese market or fishmonger — sushi-grade fish is a special upgrade.

Toppings
Use whatever you have on hand or can easily pick up: avocado slices, microgreens, thinly sliced scallions, pickled ginger, kimchi, cucumber matchsticks, toasted sesame seeds, or crispy shallots.

You could certainly turn all of this into a rice bowl, but I prefer to eat it hand-roll style. Lay a half sheet of nori on your plate, add a spoonful of rice, fish, and toppings, then fold it around itself into a rough little taco (see below for a demonstration).

Eat immediately, while the nori is crisp and the rice is still warm. To me, it tastes better and fresher than takeout sushi — probably because the contrast between warm rice and crisp nori is still intact.

Much love and more soon!
Phoebe

1. I wrote about the experience of growing up on a boarding school campus through the lens of the dining hall here, if you’d like to read.