May 2020. Two months in and the particular texture of pandemic life had become its own kind of normal—still strange, still occasionally frightening, but no longer disorienting the way March had been. You built your routines around the new rules and the routines held you.
My garden was the most ambitious one I'd done since I started keeping a serious one. With Kai home and Hannah working remotely and time moving differently, I'd gone in on it fully. Three raised beds plus the old ground bed out back. Squash hills, bean poles, tomato cages, a dedicated row for the Cherokee Purple tomatoes that I grow every year, a small section I set aside for Kai where he planted his beans and some marigolds a neighbor gave him from seed starts.
Cooking had become the main structure of our days. Breakfast by seven-thirty, something substantial, because Kai focused better when he'd eaten a real meal. Lunch from leftovers or whatever was simple. Dinner was the event—I cooked something new every few nights, working through the food journal I'd started in January, trying recipes I'd been meaning to get to for years. Lily video-called for some of them, watching from her kitchen in Fayetteville and asking questions and cooking along with her own version from whatever she had on hand. Those evenings felt like something worth saving.
Caleb was still mostly isolated. He'd had a rough few weeks in April—the combination of isolation and inactivity was hard on him in specific ways I understood without needing him to explain them. I drove to his place twice a week and left food on the porch and we talked on the phone while I was still parked in his driveway. It was absurd and also fine. That's how we held on.
The garden wasn’t producing yet—May is still early for most of what I’d planted, and you spend a lot of that month just watching and waiting. In the meantime, dinner needed to happen every night, and this romaine salad became the thing I could throw together fast while something more involved was in the oven. It’s the kind of recipe that doesn’t ask much of you, which matters when the day has already asked plenty. I made a version of it the evening Lily called in from Fayetteville and we cooked alongside each other through the phone—she had the same ingredients, more or less, and it felt right that we were eating the same thing from a thousand miles apart.
Crunchy Romaine Toss
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 5 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 package ramen noodles, crushed (discard seasoning packet)
- 1/2 cup slivered almonds
- 3 tablespoons butter
- 1 large head romaine lettuce, chopped
- 4 green onions, thinly sliced
- 1 cup broccoli florets, finely chopped
- 1/4 cup sunflower seeds
- Dressing:
- 1/3 cup olive oil
- 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
- 2 tablespoons sugar
- 1 tablespoon soy sauce
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- Salt and black pepper to taste
Instructions
- Toast the crunch. In a skillet over medium heat, melt butter. Add crushed ramen noodles and slivered almonds. Cook, stirring frequently, for 4—5 minutes until golden and fragrant. Remove from heat and let cool completely on a plate.
- Make the dressing. In a small jar or bowl, whisk together olive oil, red wine vinegar, sugar, soy sauce, garlic powder, salt, and pepper until the sugar dissolves. Taste and adjust seasoning.
- Prep the salad base. In a large bowl, combine chopped romaine, green onions, broccoli, and sunflower seeds. Toss to mix.
- Combine and serve. Just before serving, add the cooled toasted noodles and almonds to the salad. Drizzle with dressing and toss well to coat. Serve immediately so the crunch stays crisp.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 310 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 22g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 280mg