Gluten-Free Pasta Salad

Six weeks. Megan's final teacher days. She finished the school year on Friday and came home with three tote bags of gifts, seven drawings, and the last rock from Diego (number sixty-seven, a smooth grey stone she put on the windowsill). She's off now — two weeks of pure wedding focus before the big day, then the honeymoon. She walked into the apartment, dropped the bags, and said, "It's wedding time."

She was not kidding. She pulled out the binder — the final binder, the master binder — and we spent Saturday reviewing every detail. Flowers: wildflowers and white roses, arranged by a florist in Bay View who Megan found through Linda's church group. Music: a DJ for the reception, organ and cantor for the ceremony. Readings: Tom's sister is reading from Corinthians, Colleen is reading a poem by Yeats. Photography: a husband-and-wife team from the Third Ward who Megan chose because their portfolio made her cry. "If they make me cry at other people's weddings," she said, "imagine what they'll do at ours."

I reviewed my list. Food: locked. Beer: locked. Pierogi: frozen, waiting, five hundred dozen strong. Toast: written. Four sentences. Tom's advice. Keep it short. Mean every word. I've practiced it in the bathroom mirror approximately thirty times. It ends with "I'm the luckiest guy in Milwaukee." It's the truest thing I've ever said.

Made a batch of Megan's teacher mac and cheese this week — Kraft from the box with cut-up hot dogs, the first recipe she ever showed me. She ate it and said, "This is comfort food." I said, "This is nostalgia." She said, "Same thing." She's right. The best comfort food is the food that reminds you of who you were when you needed comfort. For Megan, that's box mac and cheese. For me, it's pierogi. For both of us, it's each other.

That bowl of box mac and cheese with hot dogs is sacred in our apartment now, but I wanted to put something on the table that honored Megan’s last teacher Friday with a little more intention — same comfort-food spirit, just something we could share with the people who showed up to help us celebrate. This gluten-free pasta salad carries that same easy, unpretentious energy: it’s the kind of dish that doesn’t ask anything of you, just feeds you well when you need it most. Megan would say comfort food and nostalgia are the same thing, and I’d say this recipe proves her right.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

12 oz gluten-free rotini or penne pasta
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1 cup cucumber, diced
1/2 cup black olives, sliced
1/2 cup red onion, thinly sliced
1/2 cup roasted red peppers, chopped
4 oz salami or turkey pepperoni, diced (optional)
1/3 cup fresh parsley, chopped
1/2 cup Italian dressing (gluten-free certified)
Salt and black pepper to taste
Grated Parmesan for serving (optional)

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook gluten-free pasta according to package directions until al dente, about 10–12 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water to stop cooking and cool the pasta.
Prep the vegetables. While the pasta cools, halve the cherry tomatoes, dice the cucumber and red peppers, slice the olives and red onion, and chop the parsley. If using salami or pepperoni, dice into small pieces.
Combine. In a large bowl, toss together the cooled pasta, tomatoes, cucumber, olives, red onion, roasted red peppers, meat (if using), and parsley.
Dress and season. Pour Italian dressing over the salad and toss well to coat everything evenly. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.
Chill and serve. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to let the flavors come together. Toss once more before serving and top with grated Parmesan if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Gluten-Free Pasta Salad — The Comfort Food That Reminds You Who You Were