By Full July. The garden at maximum production, the days long and warm, the evenings going gold at eight-thirty. I've been eating almost entirely from the farm: tomatoes every day in every form, beans and corn and cucumbers, the herbs cut fresh for everything. This is the month the garden earns back everything the spring asked of it. You spend March and April and May on faith. July pays you back in abundance.
Made a proper ratatouille this week — the long version, each vegetable cooked separately before combining, which takes three times as long as the quick version and produces something that has actually been thought about. The zucchini, eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, onion — each cooked properly before they meet each other. The result is a thing where each component is still itself while belonging to something larger. That seems like a description of good cooking generally.
The family is coming in two weeks — Sarah and Jim and the boys for their annual August visit. Teddy has sent two texts this week about what he wants to cook. The list includes something I've never attempted and at least one thing that requires advance sourcing. I wrote back: come in and let's see what the garden offers when you get here. He wrote: I'm bringing a notebook. I said: I know. He said: with actual research in it. I said: I expect nothing less.
Carol's apple butter ribbon campaign is in progress — she's been testing batches all summer, refining the reduction, adjusting the spice profile. She called Sunday to describe the current version. It's better than what she brought last year. I told her so. She said: this year's the year. I said: possibly. She said: definitely. I said: bring it to the fair.
The ratatouille came together the long way this week, each vegetable given its own time and attention before joining the rest — and that kind of patience puts you in a certain frame of mind about food, about what it means to treat ingredients properly. With the family coming in two weeks and the garden still running wide open, I’ve been thinking about what else to have ready: something cool, something that travels well to the table, something that holds up on a summer evening. This broccoli salad with bacon is exactly that — it’s bright and crisp and a little smoky, and it feeds a crowd without asking much of anyone. Teddy can bring his notebook; this one’s already figured out.
Broccoli Salad with Bacon
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 30 min (plus 1 hr chilling) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 6 cups fresh broccoli florets, cut into bite-sized pieces
- 8 slices bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled
- 1/2 cup red onion, finely diced
- 1/2 cup raisins or dried cranberries
- 1/2 cup roasted sunflower seeds
- 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
- 1 cup mayonnaise
- 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
Instructions
- Cook the bacon. In a skillet over medium heat, cook bacon strips until crisp, about 8–10 minutes. Transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate to drain, then crumble into pieces once cooled.
- Prepare the broccoli. Wash and cut broccoli into small, uniform florets. Pat dry thoroughly — excess moisture will thin the dressing.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together mayonnaise, apple cider vinegar, sugar, salt, and pepper until smooth and fully combined.
- Combine the salad. In a large mixing bowl, add broccoli, crumbled bacon, red onion, raisins, sunflower seeds, and cheddar cheese. Pour the dressing over the top and toss until everything is evenly coated.
- Chill before serving. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving to allow the flavors to meld and the broccoli to absorb the dressing slightly.
- Finish and serve. Give the salad a final toss before bringing it to the table. Adjust seasoning if needed and serve cold.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 320 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 25g | Carbs: 14g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 480mg