Italian Broccoli with Peppers

Brandon golfed on Saturday and came home pleased with himself, which is the desired outcome of golf. The week was a winter 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 recipe of the week was chicken noodle, 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. The vacuum sealer is the most important small appliance in this house and I will die on this hill. 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 children are doing what they do, which is the central report of every week of my adult life. Ethan is 21, finishing his mission in the Philippines. We have a countdown calendar on the fridge — Olivia's idea, executed in her handwriting, which is mine. Olivia is 19, at BYU studying elementary education — the path she chose at age seven and has not deviated from once. Mason, 17, is in Brazil on his mission. His weekly emails are short and full of jokes. He does not write much about the work. He writes about the food. Lily is 15, 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, in high school, deeply involved in the drama program — the Larson kid most likely to make a career out of being looked at. 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.

Grace would have been 10. I do not let myself imagine the alternate version. I keep her in the facts. I do not write about her every week. I do not avoid her either. She is in the kitchen the way the kitchen is in the kitchen — woven into the structure, not announcing herself, present. The photograph above the stove is the only one of her smiling, and it has watched me batch-prep more freezer meals than I can count, and I have stopped feeling strange about the parasocial relationship I have with a four-month-old who has been gone for years. She is my daughter. The photograph is what I have. I look. I keep cooking.

Brandon is asleep on the couch. The dishwasher is running. The kitchen is clean. That is what counts as victory in a long marriage.

I always serve something alongside the chicken noodle, and for the last several months that something has been this broccoli. It takes eighteen minutes, requires nothing special, and produces no complaints from anyone in this house, which is its own kind of miracle. After a Sunday spent chopping and sealing and talking with Brandon over the cutting board, the last thing I want is a side dish that asks more of me than I have left — this one never does.

Prep Time: 8 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 large head broccoli, cut into florets (about 4 cups)
1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
1 yellow bell pepper, thinly sliced
3 cloves garlic, minced
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more for blanching water
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese

Instructions

Blanch the broccoli. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add broccoli florets and cook for 2 minutes. Drain immediately and rinse under cold water to stop cooking. Pat dry.
Heat the pan. Warm olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering, about 1 minute.
Cook the peppers. Add red and yellow bell pepper slices to the skillet. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 4–5 minutes until softened and beginning to char at the edges.
Add garlic and seasoning. Push peppers to the side and add garlic to the center of the pan. Cook 30 seconds until fragrant, then stir everything together. Add Italian seasoning, red pepper flakes, salt, and black pepper.
Finish with broccoli. Add the blanched broccoli florets to the skillet. Toss everything together and cook an additional 3–4 minutes, stirring occasionally, until broccoli is heated through and lightly golden in spots.
Serve. Transfer to a serving dish and top with grated Parmesan. Serve immediately alongside soup or as a standalone side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Italian Broccoli with Peppers — The Side That Always Shows Up Ready