By Spring. The farmers market is back. Megan and I walked through it on Saturday — strawberries, asparagus, the first tomato plants. She bought a tomato plant and put it on the windowsill and named it Gerald, after the skeleton from her classroom. I said, "You named a tomato plant after a skeleton." She said, "Gerald is reliable." This is Megan recovering: naming plants after Halloween decorations. This is Megan being Megan. I missed her being Megan.
We're trying again. Cautiously. Hopefully. The word "cautiously" and the word "hopefully" shouldn't go together but they do, in the same way that grief and joy go together, in the same way that everything in life is two things at once. We are cautiously hopeful. We are hopefully cautious. We are two people who want a baby and are afraid of wanting and are wanting anyway.
At the brewery, the pilsner launched and it's my best session beer yet. Clean, crisp, golden. The kind of beer you drink without thinking about it, which is the hardest kind of beer to make. Making something simple is harder than making something complex. Any brewer can hide behind flavors. A pilsner has nowhere to hide. It's just water, malt, hops, and yeast, and it has to be perfect. The head brewer drank one and said, "This is what beer should taste like." Career highlight. Again. They keep coming.
Made a spring salad with strawberries, spinach, goat cheese, and a balsamic vinaigrette. The strawberries were from the farmers market — small, sweet, Wisconsin strawberries that taste like the sun. Megan ate the salad and said, "This is the taste of spring." She's right. Some foods don't taste like food. They taste like seasons. They taste like hope. They taste like trying again.
That salad I made with the farmers market strawberries got me thinking about all the ways fruit belongs in a bowl with greens — how sweetness and brightness can taste like a season turning. This apricot salad hits the same note: stone fruit, fresh herbs, the kind of thing you eat outside if you can, the kind of thing that tastes like relief. It’s what I’ll be making every Saturday we walk through that market together.
Apricot Salad
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 10 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 6 fresh apricots, pitted and sliced
- 5 oz baby spinach or mixed spring greens
- 1/4 cup crumbled goat cheese or feta
- 1/4 cup thinly sliced red onion
- 3 tablespoons sliced almonds, toasted
- 2 tablespoons fresh mint or basil leaves, torn
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 1/2 tablespoons white balsamic or champagne vinegar
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/8 teaspoon black pepper
Instructions
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, vinegar, honey, salt, and pepper until combined. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
- Prep the fruit. Pit and slice the apricots into thin wedges. If they’re very ripe, handle gently so they hold their shape in the salad.
- Assemble the salad. Add the greens to a large serving bowl. Arrange the apricot slices over the top, then scatter the red onion, toasted almonds, goat cheese, and fresh herbs across the salad.
- Dress and serve. Drizzle the dressing over the salad just before serving and toss gently. Serve immediately while the greens are crisp and the apricots are fresh.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 195 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 14g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 185mg