By Mother's Day. Sixth. Dustin attempted pancakes again — better than last year. He's improving at a rate of approximately 3% per attempt, which means by Mother's Day 2040 he'll be competent. I ate them on the cookie sheet with a Post-it that said, "Six years of breakfasts, getting better every time." He's not wrong. They are getting better. Slowly. Like everything in this family. Slowly, steadily, better.
Chicken fried steak at Mama's. Sixth year. Mama is fifty-seven now and she's getting slower — not dramatically, not worryingly, just the ordinary slowing of a woman who worked double shifts for twenty years and whose knees remember every hour of it. Roy helps her in the kitchen now. Not cooking — handing her things, reaching the high shelves, catching the pan when her grip isn't quite what it used to be. Roy in the kitchen is Roy everywhere: quiet, helpful, present. A bread truck driver who became a husband who became the man who hands Shelly things in the kitchen. The love story of utility. The most beautiful love story I know.
I made the chicken fried steak in Mama's kitchen one more time and thought about how many more times I'd get to make it here. The kitchen is the same. The stove is the same. But Mama is fifty-seven, and fifty-seven is not old, but it's not young, and the distance between "not old" and "not young" is where worry lives. She's fine. She's healthy. She has Roy and grandchildren and Wednesday dinners. But I notice the slowness. I notice the way she sits more. I notice the way she lets me carry the plates to the table, which she never used to do. I notice because noticing is the Moreland way. We watch. We notice. We make notes. And we keep cooking.
Chicken fried steak at Mama’s is never just about the steak — it’s about everything that fills the table around it, the sides that hold the meal together the way Roy holds the kitchen together for Shelly, quiet and steady. This Kentucky Coleslaw has been on that table as long as I can remember: cool and creamy against something rich and fried, a little sweet, a little sharp, exactly right. I keep making it because it’s part of what “Mama’s kitchen” means to me, and if I’m going to keep cooking there as long as I’m lucky enough to, I want the whole table to look the way it always has.
Kentucky Coleslaw
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 1 hr 15 min (includes chilling) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 medium head green cabbage, finely shredded (about 8 cups)
- 1/2 cup shredded carrots
- 1/4 cup finely diced white onion
- 1 cup mayonnaise
- 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 1 teaspoon celery seed
- 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
- Prep the vegetables. Finely shred the cabbage using a sharp knife or mandoline. Shred the carrots and finely dice the onion. Combine all three in a large mixing bowl.
- Make the dressing. In a separate bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, apple cider vinegar, sugar, celery seed, salt, and black pepper until smooth and fully combined.
- Dress the slaw. Pour the dressing over the cabbage mixture and toss thoroughly until every strand is evenly coated. Taste and adjust salt or sugar as needed.
- Chill before serving. Cover the bowl tightly and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving. This allows the flavors to meld and the cabbage to soften slightly while staying crisp.
- Serve. Give the coleslaw a good stir before bringing it to the table. It holds well in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 215 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 19g | Carbs: 11g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 290mg