Brain Power Salad (Spinach Salad with Salmon, Avocado and Blueberries) — The Kitchen Is the Relay

The kitchen is the room I live in. The other rooms are storage for memories — the dining room with its china cabinet, the living room with Paul's shipwreck books, the upstairs bedrooms where the kids grew up and which I have not entered (except to dust) in years. The kitchen is where the present happens. The kitchen is where the food is made and the dog is fed and the morning begins and the evening ends. The kitchen is the entire territory of my daily life now, and I find that this is enough. Karin and I talked Sunday. Stockholm in winter is dark. Duluth in winter is dark. We compared darknesses. We laughed. Karin said: "Linda, do you remember the time Pappa drove us to Two Harbors in a blizzard because Mamma wanted lutefisk?" I said yes. The story unspooled across the phone for twenty minutes. I had forgotten half of it. Karin remembered all of it. The memory was, briefly, complete between us. Mamma's hands shake more than they did last month. I do not point it out. I notice. I notice everything. The shake is small — barely visible when she is at rest, more visible when she lifts her coffee cup, most visible when she is trying to thread a needle. She still threads needles. She still bakes. She still calls me on Tuesdays at 10. The hands shake. The shaking does not stop the doing. The doing is what Mamma is. I cooked Chicken caesar salad this week. Romaine, parmesan, croutons from yesterday's bread, grilled chicken, anchovy-garlic-lemon dressing made in the mortar. Lunch on the porch. The Damiano Center: a regular named Marlene, who has been coming for twelve years, told me her granddaughter just had a baby. She was glowing. She had a photo on her phone. The phone was old and cracked but the photo was clear: a small pink baby in a hospital blanket. Marlene said: "I am a great-grandmother now. The same as you." I said: "Welcome to the club." We hugged. The line continues, even on the hard side of the soup line. Mamma's bread pans are on the shelf where they have always been. I used the smaller one this week. The metal has worn smooth in the places her hands touched it for sixty years. The pan is, in some real sense, a sculpture of Mamma's hands. I knead the bread in the bowl Mamma used. I shape it on the counter Mamma stood at (well, mine, but identical to hers — same Formica color, same dimensions). I bake it in the pan Mamma baked in. The kitchen is the relay. The relay continues. It is enough. It has to be. And on a morning like this, with the lake doing what the lake does and the dog at my feet and the bread on the counter and the kitchen warm enough to live in, it is. I have been blogging for years now. The blog began as something to do at night when sleep would not come. The blog has become — without my fully intending it — a small congregation. The readers come back. They read the recipes. They read the parts that are not recipes. They write to me sometimes. They tell me what they cooked. They tell me about their own kitchens, their own losses, their own continued cooking. The congregation is its own form of company. It is enough.

The Caesar came together the way most good lunches do — from what was already there, from bread made the day before, from the mortar that has lived on the counter for years. But this salad, the one I keep returning to when I want something that feels both light and serious, is the spinach one with salmon and blueberries — the kind of bowl that looks like it requires intention but really only requires showing up. I made it on a Tuesday, after talking to Mamma, after noticing the shake in her hands and deciding not to say anything. Sometimes the best thing the kitchen can offer is a meal that is quietly, completely enough.

Brain Power Salad (Spinach Salad with Salmon, Avocado and Blueberries)

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 2

Ingredients

• 2 salmon fillets (about 5 oz each), skin on or off
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• Salt and black pepper, to taste
• 4 cups fresh baby spinach
• 1/2 cup fresh blueberries
• 1 ripe avocado, sliced
• 1/4 cup thinly sliced red onion
• 1/4 cup toasted walnuts or pecans
• 2 tablespoons crumbled feta or goat cheese (optional)
• Dressing: 2 tablespoons olive oil, 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice, 1 teaspoon honey, 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard, salt and pepper to taste

Instructions

1. Season the salmon. Pat the salmon fillets dry and brush with olive oil. Season both sides with salt and black pepper.
2. Cook the salmon. Heat a skillet over medium-high heat. Add the salmon and cook 3—4 minutes per side, until cooked through and the flesh flakes easily with a fork. Set aside to rest for a few minutes, then flake into large pieces.
3. Make the dressing. Whisk together olive oil, lemon juice, honey, and Dijon mustard in a small bowl. Season with salt and pepper.
4. Assemble the salad. Divide the spinach between two bowls. Top with blueberries, sliced avocado, red onion, and toasted nuts.
5. Add the salmon. Lay the flaked salmon over each salad. Add crumbled cheese if using.
6. Dress and serve. Drizzle the dressing over each bowl just before eating. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 520 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 34g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 7g | Sodium: 310mg