Five weeks post-surgery. The cane is back — Earl's cane, the wooden one with the brass handle, pulled from the closet for the second time. The same cane. The same handle. The same warmth in the palm. I said, "Hello, old friend. We're doing this again." The cane said nothing. Canes, like knees, are poor conversationalists. But the handle fits my hand the way it fit Earl's, and the tapping on the floor sounds like his tapping, and the slowness is the same slowness — the slowness that is not defeat but attention, the slowness that sees the mockingbird and the light and the cast iron skillet on the stove.
I am cooking again. Short sessions — twenty minutes, thirty minutes, with the stool nearby and the cane hooked on the counter and Kayla's invisible surveillance operating at all times. But I am cooking. I made collard greens yesterday. I stood at the stove for ninety minutes — not the full three hours, not yet, but ninety minutes of stirring and tasting and adding vinegar and adjusting salt and doing the thing I was made to do. The greens were good. Not three-hour good. Ninety-minute good. But good. And good is enough when you're five weeks post-surgery on two titanium knees and standing is still a victory.
Michael came Saturday. Sacred Saturday. Restored. He walked into the kitchen and he saw me at the stove — AT the stove, standing, cooking — and he said, "NA-NA COOKING!" Not quiet this time. Full volume. The announcement. The celebration. The three-year-old town crier proclaiming to the kitchen and the house and the neighborhood and presumably the state of Georgia: na-na is cooking. The world is right. The order is restored. The food continues.
Pearl walked to me. Seventeen months old, walking well now, walking with purpose. She walked to the stove and she looked up at me and she put her hand on my leg — on the leg with the new knee, the five-week-old knee, the titanium knee that will carry me back to the garden and the boil and the Sunday dinners and the Saturday mornings — and she said, "Na-na." Just that. Just my name. Spoken by a girl named after my mother, standing at the stove where my mother taught me to cook, touching the leg that was broken and rebuilt. "Na-na." The name that means: you are here. You are cooking. You are mine.
I am here. I am cooking. I am theirs. I am seventy-three years old with two titanium knees and twelve great-grandchildren and a cast iron skillet that is ninety-three years old and a garden waiting for March and a watermelon dynasty waiting for its fifth generation and a chair at the table that is set for a man who has been gone for ten years and who is present in every meal I make. I am here. The food is here. The love is here. And the love is the food, and the food is the love, and neither of them stops. Neither of them ever stops.
Now go on and feed somebody.
The collard greens were already done — ninety minutes at the stove, and they were good, and good was enough. But a proper Southern table needs something cool and bright alongside the heavy pot, something that does its best work sitting in the refrigerator overnight without asking a thing of me. This marinated slaw is exactly that: I mixed it standing at the counter with the cane hooked on the cabinet, and by the time Michael announced to the state of Georgia that na-na was cooking, it was already in the cold waiting to be eaten. It’s the kind of dish that understands recovery — you do the work once, and it carries itself the rest of the way.
Marinated Slaw
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 5 min | Total Time: 25 min (plus 4 hrs chilling) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 medium head green cabbage, finely shredded (about 8 cups)
- 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
- 1 medium green bell pepper, thinly sliced
- 1 medium carrot, grated
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar, divided
- 1 teaspoon celery seed
- 1 teaspoon dry mustard
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 3/4 cup apple cider vinegar
- 1/2 cup neutral oil (such as vegetable or canola)
Instructions
- Prepare the vegetables. Combine shredded cabbage, sliced onion, bell pepper, and grated carrot in a large heatproof bowl. Sprinkle 1/2 cup of the sugar over the top and toss lightly. Set aside while you make the dressing.
- Make the hot dressing. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the remaining 1/4 cup sugar, celery seed, dry mustard, salt, apple cider vinegar, and oil. Bring to a full boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar, about 4–5 minutes.
- Pour and press. Carefully pour the hot dressing over the cabbage mixture. Do not stir yet — let it sit for 5 minutes, then press the vegetables down gently with a spoon so they begin to wilt into the dressing.
- Stir and cool. After 5 minutes, stir the slaw thoroughly to coat all the vegetables. Allow it to cool to room temperature, about 30 minutes.
- Chill and marinate. Cover tightly and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight. Stir once or twice during chilling. The slaw improves the longer it sits.
- Serve. Taste before serving and adjust salt or vinegar as needed. Serve cold straight from the refrigerator alongside your main dishes. Keeps well covered in the refrigerator for up to 5 days.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 195 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 310mg