Orange Carrot Salad — The Root Vegetables That Stay

Erik came over Saturday. We sat in the kitchen. He cried. Erik does not cry. Erik did not cry at Pappa's funeral. Erik did not cry when his wife died in 2018. Erik cried at Mamma's kitchen table because Mamma was not in it. I made him coffee. He cried for ten minutes. Then he stopped. Then we sat for another twenty minutes without talking. Then he left. The visit was perfect. The visit broke us both open in the right way. Erik called Sunday. He said he was thinking about Lars. He said he had not thought about Lars in a long time, not really thought about him, not the actual Lars, the twenty-year-old in 1979. Mamma's death has unlocked the older grief. Both of them at once. We sat on the phone for forty minutes mostly silent. Erik said: "It is too quiet over here, Linda." I said: "It is too quiet over here, too." We hung up. We were both alone in our too-quiet houses. The aloneness was, somehow, shared. Karin came from Stockholm for the funeral. She slept in the basement. She drank coffee at Mamma's table (Mamma's table is now in my dining room — Erik moved it over when we cleaned out the Fifth Street house; the Kenwood dining room now has both my dining table and Mamma's, pushed together to make a single longer table). Karin said: "It is so strange that the kitchen still smells like her." I said: "I have been baking her bread." Karin understood. Anna brought me a puppy. A golden retriever from the same Two Harbors breeder where Paul and I got the first Sven. I told her I did not want another dog. I held the puppy within thirty seconds. His name is Sven. Sven the Second. The puppy is enormous in his enthusiasm and tiny in his actual size. He is exactly what the kitchen needs right now. I cooked Vegetable beef stew this week. Beef chuck browned hard, then carrots, parsnips, turnips, onion, garlic, beef stock, tomato paste for body, bay and thyme. Two hours low. The root vegetables sweeten as they cook. Served with crusty bread for dipping. Damiano. The kitchen back-room I have known for over twenty years. The pot. The ladle. The faces. Gerald. The work continues. The work is the same work it has been since 2005. The continuity is, I think, the gift the Damiano Center gives me as much as the gift I give it. We hold each other up. Erik's house is empty now. The Fifth Street house has been sold (the new owners are a young couple from Hermantown, they are kind, they have promised to take care of it; they will paint the walls and tear up the carpet and the kitchen will become someone else's kitchen and I have made my peace with this, mostly). Erik's own house in Lakeside is being cleared out. I helped on Saturday. I packed Erik's coffee mugs. I held one for a long minute. I put it in the box. It is enough. Paul is not here. Mamma is not here. Pappa is not here. Erik is not here. They are all here in the kitchen, in the smell, in the taste, in the wooden spoon and the bread pans and the marble slab. The dead are not where the body went. The dead are in the kitchen. It is enough.

The carrots were already on the counter — left over from the stew, the ones I did not use, the ones I did not have the heart to put away. I have been living inside root vegetables this week: the way they sweeten when they give in to heat, the way they hold their shape even when everything around them goes soft. This salad is what I made with what was left. It is bright where the stew was dark, quick where the stew was slow, but it comes from the same place — the same counter, the same hands, the same need to do something with carrots when the house is too quiet.

Orange Carrot Salad

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

Ingredients

• 1 lb carrots, peeled and grated (about 4 medium carrots)
• 2 tablespoons fresh orange juice
• 1 teaspoon orange zest
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/8 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley or cilantro, chopped (optional)
• 2 tablespoons raisins or dried cranberries (optional)

Instructions

1. Grate the carrots. Using the large holes of a box grater or a food processor, grate the peeled carrots into a large mixing bowl. Set aside.
2. Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the orange juice, orange zest, olive oil, honey, apple cider vinegar, cumin, salt, and pepper until fully combined.
3. Dress the salad. Pour the dressing over the grated carrots and toss well to coat evenly.
4. Add mix-ins. If using, fold in the fresh parsley or cilantro and the raisins or dried cranberries.
5. Rest and serve. Let the salad sit for at least 5 minutes before serving so the carrots soften slightly and absorb the dressing. Serve at room temperature or chilled.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 95 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 175mg