Kale, Clementine and Feta Salad with Honey-Lime Dressing

Memorial Day. I drove to the Musselshell River spot — the cottonwood tree — the way I've been doing for the hard dates since I got back. Not because it fixes anything. Because the specific physical act of going somewhere and saying a name out loud is different from just thinking about it inside four walls.

I stayed for an hour this time. The river was running fast with the spring snowmelt, higher than usual, brown with silt. I sat on my log and drank coffee and told Derek about the ranch. About the calves. About the farrier business. About the one-hundred-and-forty days of sobriety. I don't know if that last one would make him proud or if he'd have some joke about it. Derek was not a man who lacked opinions. I told him I was doing all right and that I was going to keep doing all right and that I thought about him every week and that I was going to drive to Salina eventually and stand at his grave and say some of this to the stone. Not this year. But eventually.

I grilled steaks in the evening. New York strips, the way I always do on Memorial Day. Over charcoal. High heat, four minutes a side, salt before, rest after. The ritual is the same as last year, which is the same as the year before, which is what makes it a ritual. Patrick sat on the porch with iced coffee. Mom made the potato salad. We ate as it got dark.

One hundred and forty-one days. It matters. He matters. Memorial Day is for naming the people who matter. Derek Allen Owens. Named.

The steaks were always going to be the centerpiece — that’s the ritual, and you don’t mess with the ritual. But somewhere along the way I started needing something bright on the table alongside them, something with a little acid and sweetness to cut through the charcoal weight of the evening. This salad became that thing. It’s the kind of dish that actually travels well from the kitchen to a porch table in the dark, it doesn’t wilt, and it tastes like it belongs next to a plate you took seriously.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 large bunch curly kale, stems removed, leaves torn into bite-sized pieces (about 6 cups)
3 clementines, peeled and segmented
1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
1/4 cup thinly sliced red onion
1/4 cup toasted pepitas (pumpkin seeds)
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 1 large lime)
1 tablespoon honey
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the lime juice, honey, olive oil, salt, and pepper until fully combined and emulsified. Taste and adjust — if it needs more sweetness, add a small drizzle of honey; if it needs more brightness, add a squeeze more lime.
Massage the kale. Place the torn kale in a large bowl. Drizzle about half the dressing over the leaves and use your hands to massage the kale for 1 to 2 minutes until it softens slightly and darkens in color. This step is important — it breaks down the toughness and makes the kale far more pleasant to eat.
Assemble the salad. Add the clementine segments, red onion, and feta to the massaged kale. Drizzle with the remaining dressing and toss gently to combine, being careful not to break up the clementine pieces too much.
Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving bowl or platter and scatter the toasted pepitas over the top. Serve immediately, or let it sit for up to 30 minutes — the kale will continue to soften and absorb the dressing, which is not a bad thing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Kale, Clementine and Feta Salad with Honey-Lime Dressing — The Side Dish That Earned Its Place at the Memorial Day Table