August 2029, the last month before Noah leaves for Oregon. He's spending his days cooking, writing, and being in the places he loves in Utah the way you spend the final weeks of one thing: completely, with the knowledge that it's ending. He went to the farmers market every Saturday this month. He ate at both Table and Cellar, separately, and wrote about both in his notebooks. He had his friends over for a dinner he cooked himself — six people, a full three-course meal, entirely his plan and execution. His friends are not food people and they ate it with the surprised appreciation of people who have been given something they didn't know they needed.
I watched him cook for his friends from the doorway and thought about every stage of this — the boy who watched me stir soup at three, who took notes at the farmers market at thirteen, who is leaving for food journalism school at eighteen. The whole arc of it, compressed into one August kitchen, playing out in his confident hands.
Clara Grace turned four months old this week. She has discovered that she enjoys being held in the kitchen while someone is cooking — the warmth, the smells, the activity of it. Mia told me this on a Tuesday when I came over and Mia was making soup with Clara in a carrier on her chest. Clara's face pointed toward the stove, watching. I thought: yes. That's how it starts. That's exactly how it starts.
Noah’s dinner that night called for something in my hands that felt celebratory without making a fuss — something I could sip from the doorway while I watched him move around that kitchen like he already knew exactly who he was going to become. A mojito felt right: mint from the garden, a squeeze of lime, the kind of drink that says this is a good evening without asking anything more of you. It’s what I’ve been making all summer for exactly these kinds of moments — friends gathered, something worth toasting, the particular brightness of an August that you already know you’ll miss.
Mojito
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 1
Ingredients
- 2 oz white rum
- 1 oz fresh lime juice (about 1 lime)
- 3/4 oz simple syrup
- 8–10 fresh mint leaves, plus a sprig for garnish
- 2 oz club soda
- Ice (crushed or cubed)
- Lime wheel or wedge, for garnish
Instructions
- Muddle the mint. Add mint leaves and simple syrup to the bottom of a highball glass. Gently muddle just until the mint is fragrant — press and twist rather than shredding, to release the oils without bitterness.
- Add lime juice and rum. Pour in the fresh lime juice and white rum. Stir briefly to combine.
- Fill with ice. Pack the glass generously with crushed or cubed ice.
- Top with club soda. Pour the club soda over the ice and give everything one gentle stir to integrate without losing the bubbles.
- Garnish and serve. Tuck in a fresh mint sprig and a lime wheel or wedge. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 185 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 14g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 10mg