By Posted a piece this week about what it's like to teach someone something you've internalized so completely you've forgotten learning it. About the apprenticeship and what it requires of the teacher — the unpacking of automatic knowledge, the naming of things that live below words. The piece got a response I didn't expect. People shared it in communities I'm not part of: teachers, coaches, craftspeople. Someone who trains surgeons said it was exactly what residency felt like from the attending physician's perspective. Someone who'd spent forty years as a carpenter said he'd never read something that described the challenge of passing on a trade so accurately. I read these responses several times.
Cole read the essay and came in the next morning and said: I didn't know that's what you were doing. I said it wasn't a thing I'd planned. He said: It helps to know that you had to think about how to teach it. That's a useful thing for a student to know — that the person teaching them had to work at the teaching, that the knowledge didn't arrive automatically in transmissible form. It reduces the anxiety of receiving imperfect instruction from someone who can do the thing much better than they can explain it.
Mom and Dad had their second vaccines Thursday. Both of them fine the following day, Dad slightly more tired than usual, both of them otherwise normal. The relief I felt last week continues and deepens. The worst risk of the year is behind us.
Made braised pork with dried fruit and cider vinegar — a recipe that's in the territory between sweet and savory in a way that requires the right hand with each. Pork shoulder, dried apricots, a little honey, cider vinegar to cut the sweetness, rosemary for the aromatics. Four hours in the Dutch oven. This is the kind of recipe that sounds complicated and is actually a single pot that you leave alone.
What I actually made was braised pork — four hours in the Dutch oven, dried apricots, honey, cider vinegar — but what stayed with me afterward was that particular combination of sweet and tart that dried fruit brings to savory food. This almond-apricot chicken salad lives in exactly that same territory: the apricots pull against the richness of the chicken, the toasted almonds add the kind of texture that makes a simple thing feel considered, and the honey-lemon dressing holds the whole balance together. It’s the weeknight version of that same instinct — food that doesn’t ask much of you but gives back more than it should.
Almond-Apricot Chicken Salad
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 cups cooked chicken breast, shredded or diced
- 1/2 cup dried apricots, roughly chopped
- 1/3 cup sliced almonds, toasted
- 2 stalks celery, finely diced
- 1/4 cup red onion, finely diced
- 1/3 cup mayonnaise
- 2 tablespoons plain Greek yogurt
- 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- Mixed greens or sandwich bread, for serving
Instructions
- Toast the almonds. In a dry skillet over medium heat, toast sliced almonds for 2–3 minutes, stirring frequently, until golden and fragrant. Transfer to a plate to cool.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together mayonnaise, Greek yogurt, lemon juice, and honey until smooth. Season with salt and pepper.
- Combine the salad. In a large bowl, add shredded chicken, chopped dried apricots, toasted almonds, celery, and red onion. Pour the dressing over and stir until everything is evenly coated.
- Taste and adjust. Taste for seasoning — a little more lemon juice brightens it, a little more honey deepens the sweetness. Both are worth considering.
- Serve. Serve over mixed greens for a lighter plate or tucked into sandwich bread. Leftovers keep refrigerated for up to 3 days.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 315 | Protein: 27g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 17g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 275mg