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Dill Pickle Bacon Ranch Pasta Salad — The Food of the Living

Memorial Day. The weight of this holiday has changed. It used to be cookouts and gratitude and a general acknowledgment of sacrifice. Now it's personal. Now it's the holiday that asks: are you ready to sacrifice your son? Are you ready to join the families who put flags on graves and gold stars in windows? Are you ready for Memorial Day to mean something it didn't mean last year?

I am not ready. I will never be ready. Readiness is not a thing that happens. You just go forward and call it ready because the alternative is standing still, and standing still is not an option when your son ships in six weeks.

We had a cookout. Small, family only. I grilled burgers and hot dogs and corn on the cob and we ate on the back patio and Clay wore an American flag bandana that he'd bought at Walmart and Travis made a crack about it and Clay said "I earned this bandana" and Travis said "You haven't earned anything yet" and Clay said "I will" and the conversation stopped because "I will" is a promise that carries a weight that everyone at the table felt and nobody wanted to hold.

After the cookout, I drove to the cemetery. Not Evarts — the one in Lexington. I don't visit this one often because nobody I know is buried here. But on Memorial Day I went and walked through the rows of headstones and read the names and the dates and the wars: World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, Afghanistan. Young men. My son's age. Their names carved in stone, their lives compressed into a dash between two dates. I stood in front of a stone that said "PFC Marcus A. Williams, 1998-2017, Operation Enduring Freedom" and I did the math: nineteen years old. Two years older than Clay is now. One year older than Clay will be when he deploys.

I went home and made potato salad. Not because we needed more food. Because I needed to be in the kitchen. Because Connie's potato salad — the one with Duke's mayo and sweet pickle relish — is the food of life, not death, and I needed to stand at the counter cutting potatoes and mixing mayonnaise and doing the mundane work of feeding people who are alive and present and eating on my patio, all of them, still here, still chewing, still asking for seconds. Memorial Day is for the dead. I cook for the living. That's the only thing I can do.

Connie’s potato salad was already gone before I even started thinking about what to write here — eaten down to the bowl, the way food disappears when people are hungry and present and alive. But if you need a cookout side that carries that same spirit — cold and creamy and tangy and built for a backyard full of people asking for seconds — this Dill Pickle Bacon Ranch Pasta Salad is what I’d send you home with. The pickle brine cuts through the richness the same way that kind of food has to; it wakes you up, makes you reach for more, keeps you at the table. That’s the whole point.

Dill Pickle Bacon Ranch Pasta Salad

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min (plus 1 hr chilling) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 1 lb rotini pasta
  • 1 cup dill pickles, diced, plus 3 tablespoons pickle brine
  • 8 oz bacon (about 8 strips), cooked and crumbled
  • 1 cup sharp cheddar cheese, cubed or shredded
  • 1/2 cup red onion, finely diced
  • 1/2 cup celery, thinly sliced
  • 3/4 cup mayonnaise (Duke’s recommended)
  • 3/4 cup sour cream
  • 1 packet (1 oz) dry ranch seasoning mix
  • 1 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt, or to taste
  • 2 tablespoons fresh dill, chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried dill)

Instructions

  1. Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook rotini according to package directions until al dente. Drain, rinse under cold water, and let cool completely.
  2. Cook the bacon. Fry bacon in a skillet over medium heat until crisp. Transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate, let cool, and crumble into pieces.
  3. Make the dressing. In a large bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, sour cream, ranch seasoning, garlic powder, black pepper, and pickle brine until smooth and well combined.
  4. Combine. Add the cooled pasta, diced pickles, crumbled bacon, cheddar, red onion, and celery to the bowl with the dressing. Toss until everything is evenly coated.
  5. Add fresh dill. Fold in the fresh dill. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
  6. Chill. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving to allow the flavors to come together. Stir once more before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 490 | Protein: 16g | Fat: 28g | Carbs: 44g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 820mg

Craig Hensley
About the cook who shared this
Craig Hensley
Week 114 of Craig’s 30-year story · Lexington, Kentucky
Craig is a retired coal miner from Harlan County, Kentucky — a man who spent twenty years underground and seventeen hours trapped in a collapsed tunnel before he was twenty-four. He moved his family to Lexington when the mine closed, learned to cook his mama Betty's Appalachian recipes from memory because she never wrote them down, and now he's trying to get them on paper before they're lost. He says "reckon" and "fixing to" and means both. His bourbon-glazed ribs are, according to his wife Connie, "acceptable" — which is the highest praise she gives.

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