By Ten weeks. The countdown to the twelve-week scan is the only calendar that matters. Two more weeks. Two more weeks of secret-keeping. Two more weeks of nausea and bland food and the particular tension of hoping so hard it hurts.
Megan is teaching through the morning sickness with a determination that borders on superhuman. She keeps saltines in her desk drawer. She excuses herself to the bathroom between classes. She never lets the kids see. She is a professional. She is also a woman growing a human being inside her body while explaining fractions to nine-year-olds, which I consider the most impressive multitasking in human history.
The Helen's notebook is growing. I write in it at night while Megan reads baby books. Page ten: menu ideas. Page twelve: cost estimates for equipment. Page fifteen: a hand-drawn floor plan of a shop that exists only in my head and on paper. The dream is becoming documentation. Documentation is the beginning of reality.
At the brewery, the spring lineup is in production. I'm developing a new sour — a gose with lime and sea salt — that tastes like a margarita in beer form. The head brewer tried it and said, "This is weird." I said, "Weird is the brand." He said, "Fair point." He let me proceed. Weird is the brand. I stand by it.
Made a pot of Babcia's mushroom barley soup — the earthy, thick one that tastes like November even in March. Megan can eat soup. Soup is one of the safe foods. I make soup every night now. The house smells like broth and dill and the particular warmth of a kitchen that is working overtime to nourish two people who are really three.
When you’re making soup every single night — because soup is the one safe food, the one thing that stays down, the one smell that doesn’t send someone retreating to another room — you learn fast that the pot alone isn’t enough. A bowl of Babcia’s mushroom barley is everything, but alongside it, a cold, crisp garden salad became our quiet anchor: something bright and fresh to remind us there’s a whole world outside of broth and waiting. Megan could eat this. That was enough.
Garden Tossed Salad
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 6 cups romaine or mixed salad greens, torn
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
- 1/2 English cucumber, sliced into half-moons
- 1/4 red onion, thinly sliced
- 1/2 cup shredded carrots
- 1/4 cup sliced radishes
- 1/4 cup croutons (optional)
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 1/2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
- 1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- Salt and black pepper to taste
Instructions
- Prep the greens. Wash and thoroughly dry the salad greens. Tear any large leaves into bite-sized pieces and place in a large salad bowl.
- Add the vegetables. Layer the cherry tomatoes, cucumber, red onion, shredded carrots, and radishes over the greens. Add croutons if using.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, red wine vinegar, Dijon mustard, and garlic powder until emulsified. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.
- Dress and toss. Drizzle the dressing over the salad just before serving. Toss gently to coat all the vegetables evenly without bruising the greens.
- Serve immediately. Plate alongside soup or any warm main dish. Best eaten fresh — dressed salad does not keep well.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 115 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 95mg