Greek Salad — The Side Dish That Shows Up When You’re Running on Fumes

Sunday prep was four hours and twenty-eight freezer meals, which is not my record but is honest work. The week was a spring week, the kind where the light through the kitchen window arrives at a particular angle and the freezer hums in a different register depending on the temperature in the garage. I made notes in my prep notebook on Sunday afternoon, the way I always do: meal name, ingredient list, cost per serving, prep time, freezer instructions. Twenty-eight bags. Two hours and eleven minutes. A little slow this week, by my standards, but Brandon was helping and the conversation was good, and I have learned, slowly and against my own grain, that the conversation is sometimes the point and the time is sometimes a courtesy I extend to my husband for being willing to chop onions on a Sunday afternoon.

The children are doing what they do, which is the central report of every week of my adult life. Ethan is 20, in Manila on his mission, and his last email mentioned a chicken adobo so good he is going to make me make it when he comes home. Olivia is 19, at BYU studying elementary education — the path she chose at age seven and has not deviated from once. Mason is 16, finishing high school, with calluses on his hands and a plan that does not yet have words. Lily is 14, in high school, asking the kind of questions in Sunday School that make the teachers uncomfortable, which I find difficult and also, secretly, admirable. Noah is 12, the comedian, the performer — the kid who does an impression of my disappointed face in front of company, and gets away with it. That is the family report. I do not have a system for these reports. I just listen and remember and call back when I said I would call back, which is most of the time and not all of the time, and the difference between most and all is the territory of motherhood.

I do not preach in this blog. I never have. My faith is in here the way air is in a room — invisible, essential, not discussed. I am still a Latter-day Saint. I am also a woman who has sat in front of a casket the size of a bread box. I do not see those two things as contradictions, but I do not pretend they sit easily together either. The bench in the chapel where I sit on Sunday is the same bench. The woman is not. The faith makes room for the woman. That is what I have learned to ask of it.

The recipe of the week was sheet-pan teriyaki salmon, which I have made some specific number of times in my life and have refined to a system that I now hand to other people in printed form. The version I made this week fed eight, cost under fifteen dollars, and required twenty-six minutes of active prep, which is within my requirements and not a coincidence. I taught a freezer meal class this week and someone cried at the cost-per-serving column on the handout. I took the cry as a compliment. I have stopped explaining the freezer-meal philosophy to people who already follow my work, and I have stopped apologizing for it to people who do not. The philosophy is simple: tomorrow is coming whether you are ready or not. You can either be ready or not. I pick ready.

The week ends the way most of them do — with a labeled bag, a tomorrow, a kitchen light I leave on for no one in particular, and a quiet that holds.

The salmon was the anchor of the week, but every anchor needs something alongside it — something that takes almost no time and makes the plate look like you had more of yourself to give than you actually did. This Greek salad has been on the prep list for years for exactly that reason: it comes together in under fifteen minutes, travels well, scales without complaint, and costs almost nothing per serving. On a week when Brandon was chopping onions and the freezer bags were stacking up and the light through the kitchen window was doing what spring light does, this was the side dish that asked nothing of me and gave back anyway.

Greek Salad

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 2 English cucumbers, halved lengthwise and sliced into half-moons
• 4 cups cherry tomatoes, halved
• 1 large red onion, thinly sliced
• 2 green bell peppers, chopped
• 1 cup Kalamata olives, pitted
• 8 oz block feta cheese, cut into cubes (or crumbled)
• 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• Salt and black pepper to taste

Instructions

1. Prep the vegetables. Slice cucumbers, halve the cherry tomatoes, thinly slice the red onion, and chop the bell peppers into bite-sized pieces. Add all to a large bowl.
2. Add olives and feta. Scatter the Kalamata olives over the vegetables, then add the feta cubes. If you prefer feta distributed throughout, crumble it instead.
3. Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, red wine vinegar, dried oregano, garlic powder, salt, and black pepper until combined.
4. Dress and toss. Pour the dressing over the salad and toss gently — you want everything coated without breaking up the feta entirely. Taste and adjust seasoning.
5. Rest briefly. Let the salad sit for 5 minutes before serving so the vegetables absorb the dressing. Serve alongside your main or refrigerate, covered, for up to 2 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 185 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 10g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 480mg