August is coming and I'm getting bigger and the apartment is getting hotter and the combination of pregnancy and a North Carolina summer without adequate air conditioning is a specific kind of misery that should qualify as a military hardship post.
The base housing AC works, technically. It pushes tepid air through vents that haven't been cleaned since the Obama administration. The result is an apartment that's 78 degrees when you want 72, and a pregnant woman who stands in front of the open freezer at 2 PM like it's a spa treatment.
Jen and I have started spending afternoons at the base pool. Dylan splashes. I float. Jen supervises both of us with the efficiency of a woman who has managed a toddler and a deployment simultaneously and has no patience left for anything that isn't essential.
The pool is the best thing about Camp Lejeune. I said this to Jen and she said, 'The pool and the commissary. Everything else can burn.' Dark humor. Military wife brand.
Ryan's calls have settled into a pattern: every other day, fourteen minutes, mostly spent with me describing what I ate and him describing training and both of us avoiding the topic of how much we miss each other because talking about missing each other makes the missing worse.
'What did you eat?' he asks.
'Mom's cold pasta salad.'
'The one with the ranch dressing?'
'The one with the Italian dressing. The ranch one is the BLT version.'
'I want the BLT one.'
'When you come home, I'll make the BLT one.'
'Promise?'
'Promise.'
We're collecting promises. A library of them. BLT pasta salad. Sleeping on the left side of the bed. A date night at the Italian restaurant. Holding my belly when the baby kicks. Promises are the currency of deployment — you spend them to buy hope.
I made the cold pasta salad — the Italian dressing version, Mom's summer standby. Rotini, tomatoes, cucumber, olives, salami, mozzarella, her homemade Italian dressing. It lives in the fridge for three days and gets better each day. I eat it for every meal. The baby seems to approve — he kicks when I eat pasta, which Donna says means 'he's Italian, just accept it.'
Five months of deployment left. The pasta salad is cold. The apartment is hot. The baby kicks when I eat.
We're doing this. One salad at a time.
Mom’s cold salad has always been the answer to a hot kitchen and a hard week — you make a big bowl, slide it into the fridge, and let it do its thing. This barley salad follows that same logic: toss it together with whatever crisp vegetables you have on hand, dress it generously, and come back to it all week. It’s the kind of recipe that doesn’t ask anything of you in the moment, which is exactly what you need when you’re managing a 78-degree apartment and a schedule built around fourteen-minute phone calls.
Barley Salad
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 cups pearl barley
- 3 1/2 cups water or low-sodium chicken broth
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
- 1 medium cucumber, diced
- 1/2 cup pitted Kalamata olives, halved
- 1/2 cup jarred roasted red peppers, drained and chopped
- 1/3 cup thinly sliced red onion
- 1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
- 1/4 cup fresh parsley, roughly chopped
- 1/3 cup Italian dressing (store-bought or homemade)
- 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
- 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
- Salt and black pepper to taste
Instructions
- Cook the barley. Combine barley and water (or broth) in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a low simmer. Cover and cook for 40–45 minutes, until barley is tender and liquid is absorbed. Remove from heat and let cool to room temperature, at least 20 minutes.
- Prep the vegetables. While the barley cools, halve the cherry tomatoes, dice the cucumber, slice the red onion, and chop the roasted red peppers. Combine in a large mixing bowl.
- Combine. Add the cooled barley to the vegetables. Add the olives, parsley, and feta cheese.
- Dress the salad. Whisk together the Italian dressing, red wine vinegar, and dried oregano. Pour over the salad and toss thoroughly to coat. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.
- Chill and serve. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving. The salad keeps well for up to 4 days — the flavor deepens noticeably on day two and three.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 280 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 43g | Fiber: 8g | Sodium: 410mg
About the cook who shared this
Rachel Abernathy
Week 123 of Rachel’s 30-year story
· San Diego, California
Rachel is a twenty-eight-year-old Marine wife and mom of two who has moved five times in six years and learned to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with half her cookware still in boxes. She married young, survived postpartum depression, and feeds her family of four on a junior Marine's salary with a freezer full of pre-made meals and a crockpot that has never let her down. She writes for the military spouses who are cooking dinner alone in base housing and wondering if they're enough. You are.