Mid-June and the summer heat was in full force now — the kind of heat that sits on you rather than surrounds you. I had adapted my cooking accordingly: early mornings at the stove before the kitchen got unbearable, cold desserts and salads in the afternoons, everything that required the oven reserved for evening when the day cooled slightly and the ceiling fan could help. This is practical adaptation. This is also just Louisiana summer cooking wisdom that I have absorbed without noticing from every woman in my family.
Daddy took me to a farmers market on Saturday morning — not the large one downtown but a smaller neighborhood one three blocks from the community center, mostly local vendors, a woman with fresh herbs in pots and a man with dried beans in thirty varieties. I bought six herb plants for the back steps: basil, thyme, rosemary, oregano, mint, and lemon verbena. I have always wanted a kitchen herb garden and the back steps get excellent morning sun. I potted them in containers that Mama had saved and watered them before dinner. I have named none of them because I find that excessive but I do check on them every morning and feel something close to parental about their progress.
I read two books that week: a novel and a long essay collection about Southern food history. The essay collection was the more transformative of the two — it traced the African origins of many Louisiana and Southern food traditions, the way the people who were enslaved brought with them a knowledge of rice cultivation, okra, black-eyed peas, the spice combinations that became Creole and Cajun cooking. It was history I had partially known but not seen laid out so clearly. I read it slowly and with attention and went back through it twice. Then I looked at my family recipe book and thought about what it meant to hold traditions that had survived everything. That is not a small thing to hold. I take it seriously.
Reading about how rice cultivation came to Louisiana through the knowledge of enslaved Africans—and then looking at my family recipe book and feeling the weight of what it means to hold traditions that survived everything—I wanted to cook something that honored that thread. Wild rice felt right: ancient, resilient, deeply rooted in the land and in the people who knew how to work it. This salad let me pull thyme from my new back-steps garden and bring it all together in something cool enough for a June afternoon, grounded enough to feel like it meant something.
Megan’s Wild Rice & Kale Salad
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 cup wild rice, rinsed
- 2 1/2 cups vegetable broth or water
- 4 cups kale, stems removed and leaves chopped
- 1/2 cup dried cranberries
- 1/3 cup toasted pecans or walnuts, roughly chopped
- 1/4 cup red onion, thinly sliced
- 1/2 cup shredded carrots
- 2 tablespoons fresh thyme leaves (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
- 1 tablespoon honey or maple syrup
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- Salt and black pepper to taste
Instructions
- Cook the rice. Combine wild rice and broth in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer 40—45 minutes until the rice is tender and most grains have begun to split open. Drain any excess liquid and spread on a sheet pan to cool to room temperature.
- Massage the kale. Place chopped kale in a large mixing bowl. Drizzle with 1 teaspoon of the olive oil and a pinch of salt. Use your hands to massage the kale for 1—2 minutes until the leaves soften and darken slightly. This step removes bitterness and makes the kale tender enough to absorb the dressing.
- Make the dressing. In a small jar or bowl, whisk together the remaining olive oil, apple cider vinegar, honey, Dijon mustard, garlic powder, salt, and pepper until well combined.
- Combine the salad. Add the cooled wild rice to the massaged kale. Add the cranberries, toasted nuts, red onion, shredded carrots, and fresh thyme. Pour the dressing over the top and toss everything together until evenly coated.
- Rest and serve. Let the salad sit for at least 10 minutes before serving so the flavors meld. Serve at room temperature or refrigerate for up to 3 days—it keeps well and the flavors deepen overnight.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 265 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 210mg