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Antipasto Cups — Summer on a Plate, Right on the Windowsill

Back from Atlanta a week and a half now. The afterglow is still warm. Gloria texted me — TEXTED ME — a photo of the empty Pyrex dish with the message: "Container's clean. Come get it anytime." Come get it anytime. That's an open invitation. That's Gloria saying: the door is open. You passed. The cornbread opened it and you walked through and now you can come back whenever you want. I saved the text. I'll probably frame it. A screenshot of a text about an empty Pyrex dish, framed on my wall, because that's what approval looks like in my life — clean dishes and open doors.

Terrence has been different since Atlanta. Not different bad. Different... settled. Like something he was holding finally let go. He wanted me to meet his mama and I met his mama and his mama approved and now he walks around my apartment like a man who has been given permission to exhale. He left a toothbrush here. Not a dramatic "I'm moving in" toothbrush, but a quiet "I'll be back" toothbrush. It sits in the cup next to mine and Chloe's and Jayden's and it looks right. Four toothbrushes. A family's worth of dental hygiene. I notice these things because I'm a dental hygienist and also because I'm a woman who counts the signs of staying.

Chloe finished second grade on Friday. FINISHED. She's going to be a third grader in the fall. She brought home her report card and it was all As and Bs and her teacher wrote: "Chloe is a joy to have in class. She is kind, curious, and always willing to help her classmates." Kind, curious, willing to help. That's not me. That's not Marcus. That's CHLOE. She made herself. She took whatever genetic material Marcus and I gave her and she made something entirely her own — a kind, curious, helpful girl who reads chapter books and cleans pennies with vinegar and rolls her eyes at banana pudding puns. She's a masterpiece and I take approximately 30% of the credit. The other 70% is all her.

Jayden's daycare is doing a "graduation" ceremony for the four-year-olds moving to pre-K in the fall. He has to wear a tiny cap and gown. A CAP AND GOWN. For daycare! I bought the outfit from the daycare's vendor for $15 and I will absolutely cry when he walks across the "stage" (a taped line on the gymnasium floor) because that is my SON in a CAP AND GOWN and I don't care that it's a meaningless ceremony for four-year-olds — it's the first time one of my children will wear academic regalia and milestones are milestones regardless of scale.

I made a big platter of caprese salad — thick tomato slices, fresh mozzarella, basil from a plant I'm growing on the windowsill (first successful herb garden, week three, the basil is THRIVING, everything else is dead). Olive oil, salt, balsamic. Summer on a plate. We're moving into summer and I can feel the year accelerating, the way it does when things are good and you want them to slow down but they won't because time doesn't care about your happiness. Time just goes.

The caprese platter I made that week — the one with basil from my very-much-alive windowsill plant — reminded me that summer food doesn’t have to be complicated to feel like a celebration. These antipasto cups carry that same spirit: fresh, bright, Italian, and ready in minutes, which is exactly what you need when you’re trying to slow down a year that refuses to stop accelerating. Make them for a graduation — even a daycare one — or just for a Tuesday when the toothbrushes are all lined up and something feels quietly, perfectly right.

Antipasto Cups

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 12

Ingredients

  • 12 slices salami or pepperoni, folded into cup shapes
  • 4 oz fresh mozzarella, cut into small cubes
  • 1/2 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
  • 1/4 cup pitted Kalamata olives, halved
  • 1/4 cup roasted red peppers, drained and chopped
  • 2 tablespoons fresh basil leaves, torn
  • 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1 tablespoon balsamic glaze
  • 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 12 mini phyllo shells or small romaine lettuce leaves (for serving)

Instructions

  1. Prepare the cups. If using phyllo shells, arrange them on a serving platter. If using lettuce leaves, separate them and lay flat. Press a folded salami slice into each shell or nestle it inside each lettuce leaf to form a small cup.
  2. Combine the filling. In a medium bowl, combine the mozzarella cubes, cherry tomatoes, olives, and roasted red peppers. Drizzle with olive oil, season with salt and pepper, and toss gently to coat.
  3. Fill the cups. Spoon 2–3 tablespoons of the filling into each salami cup, piling it slightly above the rim.
  4. Finish and garnish. Scatter torn fresh basil over the filled cups. Drizzle each lightly with balsamic glaze just before serving.
  5. Serve immediately. These are best enjoyed fresh; if making ahead, keep the filling and cups separate and assemble within 30 minutes of serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 95 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 310mg

Sarah Mitchell
About the cook who shared this
Sarah Mitchell
Week 165 of Sarah’s 30-year story · Nashville, Tennessee
Sarah is a single mom of three, a dental hygienist, and a Nashville girl through and through. She started cooking at eleven out of necessity — feeding her younger siblings while her mama worked double shifts — and never stopped. Her kitchen is tiny, her budget is tight, and her chicken and dumplings will make you want to cry. She writes for every mom who's ever felt like she's not doing enough. Spoiler: you are.

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