Creamy Pesto Pasta Salad

Memorial Day. The start of summer, they say, though in Savannah summer started in April and won't quit until November. We don't do summer here — we do survival. Air conditioning and sweet tea and the knowledge that the marsh breeze will come if you wait for it.

Earl and I went to the Bonaventure Cemetery on Monday morning, same as every Memorial Day. We visited Michael's grave first. It's under a live oak, and the Spanish moss hangs down like the tree is reaching for him. I brought flowers — yellow roses, his favorite, though he never told me they were his favorite. He didn't have to. A mother knows. I cleaned the headstone and I talked to him while Earl stood behind me with his hand on my shoulder. I told Michael about Kayla graduating. I told him about the garden. I told him the tomatoes are doing well this year. I talk to my dead son about tomatoes, baby, because that's all I have — the small, living things that connect me to him.

Then we visited Mama and Daddy. They're next to each other, which is how it should be, though they had a complicated marriage and Mama might have preferred more space. James Sr. was a difficult man — the drinking, the grief that never found its way out — but he loved Hattie Pearl, and she loved him, and in the end that's what the headstone says: beloved. Not perfect. Beloved.

After the cemetery, we came home and I fired up the grill. Memorial Day is a cookout day in this family, even when it's just the two of us. Ribs — slow-smoked, dry-rubbed, the way Daddy used to do them before his back gave out and his hands got too shaky. I use his rub: brown sugar, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, cayenne, black pepper, and a little mustard powder that nobody expects but everybody tastes. The secret is low and slow, baby. Two hundred and twenty-five degrees for five hours. You can't rush ribs. You can't rush grief. You can't rush anything that's worth the wait.

Denise came over at four and we ate ribs on the back porch and watched the sun go down over the marsh. The egrets were fishing. The tide was coming in. Earl was in his chair with sauce on his chin and his eyes closed, and Denise and I looked at each other and didn't say what we were both thinking, which is that he looks tired. More tired than last year. More tired than the year before.

Now go on and feed somebody.

Daddy’s ribs are the whole point of that afternoon — they always have been, and now that I’m the one tending the grill, I feel that responsibility down in my bones. But ribs take five hours, and a table needs more than one thing on it, and so while the smoke was doing its slow, holy work I put this pasta salad together. It’s cool and herby and a little rich, and it sits well next to something as heavy and proud as smoked pork. Denise finished her second helping before she even said hello properly, which is the only review that matters.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min + 1 hr chill | Servings: 8

Ingredients

12 oz rotini pasta
1/2 cup basil pesto (store-bought or homemade)
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1/4 cup sour cream
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1 cup fresh mozzarella pearls
1/3 cup sun-dried tomatoes in oil, drained and roughly chopped
1/4 cup toasted pine nuts
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for pasta water
Fresh basil leaves, for garnish

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook rotini according to package directions until al dente, about 9–10 minutes. Drain, rinse under cold water until fully cooled, and drain well.
Make the dressing. In a large bowl, whisk together the pesto, mayonnaise, and sour cream until smooth and combined. Season with salt and pepper.
Combine. Add the cooled pasta to the bowl and toss to coat evenly. Fold in the cherry tomatoes, mozzarella pearls, sun-dried tomatoes, and Parmesan.
Chill. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving. The pasta will absorb some of the dressing as it sits — if it looks dry after chilling, stir in an extra spoonful of mayonnaise or a drizzle of olive oil.
Finish and serve. Just before serving, scatter pine nuts over the top and tear a few fresh basil leaves over everything. Taste once more for salt and adjust as needed.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy Pesto Pasta Salad — The Side Dish That Holds a Cookout Together