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Mexican Chopped Salad with Cilantro-Lime Vinaigrette — For the Weeks You’re Eating Efficiency

I reached 150 clinical hours. The number. The magic number. One hundred and fifty hours of hands in mouths and instruments in hands and trust in the chair. I signed the form. Dr. Whitfield signed the form. She looked at me when she signed it and said, "You earned every hour." She said it the way she says everything — without excess, without ornament — but I heard the weight. Every hour. Every patient. Every hand that shook and then steadied. Every parking lot cry. Every midnight flashcard. Every bowl of cereal at 11 PM because I was too tired to cook. Every hour was earned. None of them were given.

Halloween is next week. Chloe has been practicing her doctor walk — yes, she has a "doctor walk," which is apparently a very fast, very purposeful stride while carrying a clipboard (a cereal box with paper clipped to it). She walks around the apartment examining patients (stuffed animals) and writing prescriptions (scribbles) and telling them to "eat more vegetables, you'll feel better." She is five years old and she is already dispensing unsolicited health advice. She is every doctor I've ever met. She's going to be magnificent.

Jayden's firefighter enthusiasm has evolved into a full lifestyle. He wears the plastic helmet to Mama's every morning. He has started making siren sounds — "WEE-OOO WEE-OOO" — at random intervals throughout the day. He does it at the grocery store. He does it at church. He did it during a quiet moment at Mama's apartment while Lorraine was on the phone with the doctor's office and the receptionist said, "Ma'am, is that a siren?" Mama said, "That's my grandson." No further explanation. None needed.

I'm in full board-exam-prep mode. Every free minute is a study minute. I carry flashcards in my purse, my car, my lab coat pockets. Mr. Gerald quizzed me on fluoride varnish application this morning at the Waffle House (he doesn't know what fluoride varnish is, but he read the flashcard and asked the question with the gravitas of an oral exam proctor, and I answered correctly, and he said, "Atta girl," and tipped me $5). Mr. Gerald is my unofficial exam committee. He doesn't know this. He doesn't need to know this.

I made a chicken enchilada casserole this week — layers of corn tortillas, shredded chicken, enchilada sauce, cheese, repeat. It's enchiladas without the rolling, which is enchiladas for people who are studying for a board exam and don't have time to roll individual tortillas because every thirty seconds saved is thirty seconds of flashcards. I'm optimizing my cooking for maximum food with minimum effort, and I'm not sorry. Efficiency is a virtue when you're two months from changing your life.

That enchilada casserole carried me through most of the week, but by Thursday I needed something that required even less of me — no oven, no layering, just a cutting board and a big bowl. This Mexican Chopped Salad has become my other study-season staple: everything goes in at once, the cilantro-lime vinaigrette ties it all together, and it tastes like I tried harder than I did. After signing that 150-hour form and hearing Dr. Whitfield say what she said, I figured I’d earned the right to make dinner easy for one more night.

Mexican Chopped Salad with Cilantro-Lime Vinaigrette

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

Ingredients

  • For the Salad:
  • 1 small head romaine lettuce, chopped
  • 1 (15 oz) can black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 1/2 cups corn kernels (fresh, frozen-thawed, or canned and drained)
  • 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
  • 1 medium red bell pepper, diced
  • 1/2 small red onion, finely diced
  • 1 avocado, diced
  • 1/2 cup shredded pepper jack or cheddar cheese
  • 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
  • 2 cups shredded rotisserie chicken (optional, for a full meal)
  • For the Cilantro-Lime Vinaigrette:
  • 1/4 cup fresh lime juice (about 2–3 limes)
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 tablespoon honey
  • 1 small garlic clove, minced
  • 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • Pinch of chili powder

Instructions

  1. Make the vinaigrette. Combine lime juice, olive oil, honey, garlic, cilantro, cumin, salt, pepper, and chili powder in a small blender or food processor. Blend until smooth and bright green, about 20–30 seconds. Taste and adjust salt or lime as needed. Set aside.
  2. Prep the salad base. Add chopped romaine to a large bowl. Layer in the black beans, corn, cherry tomatoes, red bell pepper, and red onion.
  3. Add toppings. Scatter the diced avocado, shredded cheese, cilantro, and rotisserie chicken (if using) over the top.
  4. Dress and toss. Drizzle the cilantro-lime vinaigrette over the salad. Toss gently to coat everything evenly, being careful not to mash the avocado.
  5. Serve immediately. Divide into bowls and serve right away. If making ahead, store the dressing separately and add the avocado just before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 9g | Sodium: 480mg

Sarah Mitchell
About the cook who shared this
Sarah Mitchell
Week 82 of Sarah’s 30-year story · Nashville, Tennessee
Sarah is a single mom of three, a dental hygienist, and a Nashville girl through and through. She started cooking at eleven out of necessity — feeding her younger siblings while her mama worked double shifts — and never stopped. Her kitchen is tiny, her budget is tight, and her chicken and dumplings will make you want to cry. She writes for every mom who's ever felt like she's not doing enough. Spoiler: you are.

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