By The house emptied the day after Christmas — David and Karen first, then the various grandchildren and their partners through the afternoon, until by Saturday night it was just me and the dog and the substantial leftovers in the refrigerator. The hollow that follows a full Christmas is a familiar one. I made turkey hash Sunday morning, ate it slowly at the table by the window, watched the cardinal at the bird feeder. The cardinal has been at the feeder all winter — the same male, by the look of him, who was here last year and probably the year before. He survives the winter on what I put out and a few tougher seeds in the wild. I survive the winter on the same combination, more or less.
The rest of the week was the in-between week — between Christmas and New Year's, the slow stretch where nothing is required and the days take on a kind of muted quality. I read for several hours each day. I made a pot of beef stew and ate it for three nights. I split kindling for an hour Saturday afternoon. I walked the dog twice a day, the same route, the same pace. The week is the kind of week that I used to find tedious in earlier phases of my life and that I have come to value in this phase, the stillness being the gift the year gives you in exchange for the activity of the previous month.
New Year's Eve I made a steak — a single ribeye, cast iron, the same preparation as the Valentine's steak — and ate it at the kitchen table with a baked potato and a glass of red wine. At ten I had a small measure of bourbon and watched the news for the year-in-review for an hour and went to bed at eleven. I did not stay up for midnight. I have not stayed up for midnight since Helen died. The midnight transition was Helen's thing, the small ritual she held us to, the kiss at twelve and the toast and the wishes for the new year. Without her the ritual lost its center, and I have not found a way to do it alone that does not feel hollow, so I have stopped doing it. I sleep through midnight. The new year arrives whether I am awake for it or not. The morning still comes. The coffee is still made. The work of the year resumes.
New Year's Day I made the traditional black-eyed peas and collards and cornbread — the southern tradition that I have been observing in this northern kitchen for about thirty years, since I read about it somewhere and decided that the symbolism (peas for luck, greens for money, cornbread for gold) was the kind of secular benediction that a new year could use. The dish was good. I ate it at the kitchen table at noon and read Frost in the afternoon and walked the dog and made a simple supper and went to bed at the usual time. The year turned. I am still here. The seventy-third January begins.
The collards I made on New Year’s Day were the dark, long-cooked variety — practical and humble, the way the tradition calls for them. But the symbolism is the thing that has always mattered to me more than any particular preparation, and greens are greens whether they come from a slow pot or a crisp bowl. This mixed greens salad with strawberries is what I reach for when I want that same quiet hopefulness the tradition carries, without the hour at the stove — a lighter benediction, but a benediction nonetheless.
Mixed Greens with Strawberries
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 6 cups mixed salad greens
- 1 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
- 1/4 cup sliced almonds, toasted
- 1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese
- 2 tablespoons thinly sliced red onion
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 1/2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Instructions
- Toast the almonds. In a small dry skillet over medium heat, toast the sliced almonds for 2–3 minutes, stirring frequently, until lightly golden and fragrant. Remove from heat and let cool.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, honey, and Dijon mustard until emulsified. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
- Assemble the salad. Arrange the mixed greens on a large serving platter or in a wide salad bowl. Scatter the sliced strawberries, red onion, and toasted almonds evenly over the top.
- Add the cheese. Crumble the feta over the salad just before serving to keep it from weighing down the greens.
- Dress and serve. Drizzle the dressing over the salad immediately before serving, or pass it on the side. Toss gently to coat and serve at once.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 175 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 160mg