By Labor Day. Three weeks post-Diego. The annual cookout happened, because the annual cookout always happens, because some things are bigger than sleep deprivation. But this year it was smaller — just family, no neighbors, no extended crew. Jessica is still recovering. Diego is still a newborn who screams at unpredictable intervals. Sofia is three and needs attention. I am one man with one grill and finite energy. So we kept it tight: my parents, Jessica and the kids, and pulled pork that I started at midnight because old habits die hard and because the smoker doesn't care that I slept three hours.
The pulled pork was good. Not competition good — I hadn't practiced in weeks, and my timing was off because I kept running inside to check on Diego or help Jessica or retrieve Sofia from whatever she'd climbed onto — but good. Smoky, tender, the bark thick and peppery. I served it on buns with a vinegar slaw because complicated sides are for people who slept, and I did not sleep.
My dad and I stood at the grill together and he asked me, quietly, so no one else could hear: "How are you, mijo? Really?" Not "how's the baby" or "how's Jessica" — how am I. I told him the truth: I'm tired. I'm happy. I'm scared that I'm not doing enough, being enough, present enough. That I look at Diego and feel a love so big it scares me because I know what the world can do to people you love. That I look at Sofia and worry she'll feel replaced. That I look at Jessica and wonder how she's holding everything together when I can barely hold a spatula.
My dad listened. He didn't interrupt. When I was done, he said: "I felt the same way when you were born. Every father does. It means you're paying attention." Then he flipped the carne asada and the conversation was over, because Roberto Rivera delivers wisdom in single sentences and then returns to the grill. It's the most efficient emotional support system I've ever encountered.
That night, after everyone left, I held Diego in the rocking chair — Elena's gift, the one from Duluth, Diane's mother's chair — and rocked him while Jessica put Sofia to bed. He fell asleep on my chest, and I could feel his heartbeat against mine — two hearts, different sizes, same rhythm. I whispered to him: "I'm going to teach you to grill. I'm going to teach you everything my dad taught me. And you're going to stand next to me the way I stood next to him, and we're going to be okay." He didn't hear me. He was asleep. But I heard me, and that was enough.
I said complicated sides are for people who slept, and I meant it — but the table still needed something beyond buns and pork. This creamy bacon ranch pasta salad is what I reach for when I’m running on fumes and love in equal measure: it takes twenty minutes, it travels well, and it’s the kind of dish that makes everyone feel taken care of without requiring anything heroic from the cook. My dad had two helpings. Sofia ate only the bacon. That felt about right.
Creamy Bacon Ranch Pasta Salad
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min (plus 1 hr chill) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 12 oz rotini pasta
- 8 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
- 1/2 cup red onion, finely diced
- 1 cup sharp cheddar cheese, cubed or shredded
- 1/2 cup frozen peas, thawed
- 1 cup mayonnaise
- 1/2 cup sour cream
- 1 packet (1 oz) dry ranch dressing mix
- 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
- 1 tablespoon milk (to thin, as needed)
- Salt and black pepper to taste
Instructions
- Cook the pasta. Boil rotini in salted water according to package directions until al dente. Drain, rinse under cold water, and let cool completely.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together mayonnaise, sour cream, ranch dressing mix, and apple cider vinegar until smooth. Add a splash of milk if the dressing feels too thick. Season with salt and pepper.
- Combine. In a large bowl, toss the cooled pasta with bacon, cherry tomatoes, red onion, cheddar, and peas.
- Dress and toss. Pour the dressing over the pasta mixture and stir until everything is evenly coated.
- Chill. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving to let the flavors come together. Stir once more before serving and add a splash of milk if it’s thickened up.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 420 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 26g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 680mg