Chinese Coleslaw

The watermelon is growing. Fourth generation. On track. The vine is strong, the flowers are pollinated, and at least two fruit are setting, which means the fourth generation might produce a surplus, which means I might have watermelon to share, which means the Henderson watermelon dynasty is no longer a single-fruit operation but a MULTI-fruit operation, and I am disproportionately excited about this because I spent seven years failing and the success still feels like a miracle.

Michael helps with the watermelon now. "Helps" has evolved from "eating dirt" to "actually contributing," which at two and a half means he carries the watering can (small, plastic, mostly missing the target) and he talks to the watermelon (using words I taught him, including "grow" and "please" and "na-na is watching"). He takes the gardening seriously. He approaches the watermelon with the focus of a small person who understands that this vine is important and that the importance comes from na-na's voice and na-na's face and the way na-na kneels next to the vine and says things in a tone that is reserved for very important subjects like watermelons and babies and the cast iron skillet.

Pearl was in the garden too. Seven months old, sitting in the shade, eating a piece of banana, watching Michael water (the ground, the fence, his own shoes). She doesn't help yet. She observes. She is the observer. She is the one who will know everything by the time she starts doing anything, because she has been watching from birth and the watching is a kind of doing — a slower, quieter doing, a Hattie Pearl doing, a doing that happens inside first and then emerges when it's ready.

The garden is full. Cherokee Purples heavy on the vines. Okra reaching for God. Sapelo peppers turning red. Butter beans climbing. And in the sunny corner, two watermelons, fourth generation, growing side by side like siblings, like Michael and Pearl, like every pair of things that grows together in the same soil under the same sun and becomes what the soil and the sun intended.

Made fried okra tonight. The summer standard. Crispy, tender, cornmeal-crusted. Michael ate seven pieces. Pearl watched. Their relationship to the kitchen is the same as their relationship to everything: Michael consumes, Pearl catalogs. Both are correct. Both are Henderson.

Now go on and feed somebody.

Nights when the garden gives everything it’s got and the okra is coming in fast and the kids are fed and happy, I want a side that doesn’t fight the rest of the table — something cool and crisp to balance all that heat from the skillet. This Chinese Coleslaw has been on our summer rotation long enough that it barely needs a recipe anymore, but I’m writing it down anyway because Michael’s going to want to know it someday, and Pearl is already watching.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min (plus 30 min rest) | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 small head napa cabbage, thinly shredded (about 6 cups)
1 cup shredded purple cabbage
3 green onions, thinly sliced
1 cup shredded carrots
1/2 cup sliced almonds, toasted
1/3 cup sunflower seeds
2 packages (3 oz each) ramen noodles, crushed and uncooked (discard seasoning packets)
3 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds
Dressing:
1/3 cup rice vinegar
3 tablespoons soy sauce (low sodium)
2 tablespoons toasted sesame oil
2 tablespoons honey or sugar
1 tablespoon neutral oil (avocado or canola)
1 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
1 clove garlic, minced
Salt and black pepper to taste

Instructions

Make the dressing. Whisk together the rice vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, honey, neutral oil, grated ginger, and garlic in a small bowl or jar until fully combined. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed. Set aside.
Prepare the slaw base. In a large bowl, combine the shredded napa cabbage, purple cabbage, carrots, and green onions. Toss to mix evenly.
Add the crunch. Add the toasted almonds, sunflower seeds, and sesame seeds to the bowl. Hold the crushed ramen noodles until just before serving so they stay crisp.
Dress and rest. Pour about two-thirds of the dressing over the slaw and toss well to coat. Let the slaw rest for at least 30 minutes in the refrigerator so the cabbage softens slightly and the flavors come together.
Finish and serve. Just before serving, add the crushed ramen noodles and toss again. Drizzle remaining dressing to taste. Serve cold or at room temperature.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chinese Coleslaw — The Summer Side That Feeds the Whole Garden Crew