Orange Vinaigrette Salad Dressing

October. The orange month. Elijah's month. The month where the boy and the world align. Halloween approaching: Elijah's costume this year: Jupiter. THE LARGEST PLANET. The boy has escalated from traffic cone to pumpkin to sun to Mars to: the biggest planet in the solar system. The costume trajectory follows an exponential curve of ambition. Lorraine: "Jupiter? How big is Jupiter?" Lorraine Googled it. Lorraine called back: "Sarah, the boy wants to be a PLANET that is ELEVEN TIMES THE SIZE OF EARTH." The planet is eleven times the size of Earth. The costume must convey: enormity. Lorraine: "I'm going to need a LOT of orange fabric." The sentence that has defined Lorraine's sewing career for six years.

Jayden's first month of high school: clean. No incidents. No calls. The boy goes to school, goes to class, runs at lunch (the cross-country team, freshman year, the running that is: the practice, the prayer, the exhale). He comes home. He does homework. He writes. The door: open. The door has been open for a year now. The open door is: the new normal. The normal that required twenty-four Saturdays with Pastor James and a half marathon and men who stay and a journal full of unsent letters. The normal that was: earned. Every door-opening: earned.

Chloe's junior year is: college preparation. The word "college" is in every conversation now — college visits, college essays, college applications, the college fund ($14,000 — I've been adding to it since Elijah was a baby and the adding has been: slow, steady, the Earline method, penny by penny). Chloe wants: a school with a strong photography program. She's looking at SCAD (Savannah College of Art and Design), UT Austin, RIT (Rochester Institute of Technology). Schools that are: far. Schools that mean: Chloe leaving Nashville. Chloe leaving Sarah's Table. Chloe leaving: me. The leaving is: a year and a half away. The leaving is: forever away. Both are true.

At the restaurant: fall menu, Year 4. Sweet potato soup still outselling cornbread (the succession is: permanent and fine and actually: good for business because the soup costs more than the cornbread and the costing-more is: profit and the profit is: Rita's favorite word). James's cinnamon brisket (Year 2 — now a fall tradition, "the brisket that tastes like a hug in October" per one customer's Instagram review). Black cornbread anticipation building. The restaurant in October is: Sarah's Table at its best. Warm, full, orange (Elijah's influence on the seasonal palette is: undeniable).

Dinner: butternut squash risotto. The October therapy. Forty-five minutes of stirring. The meditation. The broth absorbing. The cheese melting. The patience becoming food. The risotto is: the week. Orange and warm and patient and stirred until right. Amen.

October has always been my orange month — Elijah’s month, the restaurant’s month, the month where everything aligns — and when I needed something that carried that brightness without asking too much of me on a Tuesday night, I reached for this Orange Vinaigrette. After forty-five minutes of risotto stirring earlier in the week, I wanted something that came together in five minutes and still tasted like I meant it. Citrus has a way of cutting through the heaviness of the season without erasing the warmth, and that’s exactly what this dressing does — it tastes like October light.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 8 (about 1 cup total)

Ingredients

1/3 cup fresh orange juice (from about 1 large orange)
1 teaspoon orange zest
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon honey
1 small garlic clove, minced
1/4 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Instructions

Combine base ingredients. In a small bowl or a jar with a tight-fitting lid, whisk together the orange juice, orange zest, apple cider vinegar, Dijon mustard, honey, garlic, salt, and black pepper until well combined.
Emulsify with oil. While whisking constantly (or with the jar lid secured, shaking vigorously), slowly drizzle in the olive oil until the dressing is fully emulsified and slightly thickened.
Taste and adjust. Taste the vinaigrette and adjust seasoning as needed — a touch more honey for sweetness, a splash more vinegar for brightness, or a pinch more salt to round it out.
Store or serve. Serve immediately over your favorite salad greens, or transfer to a sealed jar and refrigerate for up to one week. Shake or whisk again before serving if stored, as the dressing will separate.

Nutrition (per serving)

Orange Vinaigrette Salad Dressing — The Orange That Holds October Together