Fourth of July. The second without Paul. The first where the absence didn't dominate.
Elsa and Tom came. Erik came (with his folding chair, his thermos, his silence). We sat on the porch and watched the Bayfront fireworks from the neighborhood — the distant flash and delayed boom that I've watched from this porch for thirty-two years. Tom identified the ships in the harbor (he's getting better — "That's the Mesabi Miner. I recognize the profile"). Sven trembled under the porch and I crawled under to rub his ears because some traditions are between me and the dog and the dark space under the porch boards.
I made potato salad — Swedish, vinaigrette, the recipe — and bratwurst and deviled eggs and a blueberry pie from frozen berries (the wild berries aren't ready yet — two more weeks). The meal of every Fourth. The menu unchanged. The people at the table changed — Tom is new, Paul is absent — but the deviled eggs don't know the difference.
Erik drank coffee from his thermos and watched the fireworks without comment. After the finale he said, "Good show this year." Three words. His annual review.
Tom helped clean up. He washed the dishes — without being asked, the second time he's done this, establishing a pattern that I approve of. Janet washes dishes too (Peter reported this from Chicago). The new people in this family wash dishes. I'm keeping them.
Sven emerged from under the porch at ten-thirty, fireworks over, dignity intact. He ate a leftover bratwurst that I "accidentally" dropped near his bowl. His principles regarding found bratwurst are flexible.
I went to bed at eleven. The house was quiet. The fireworks were done. The lake was dark. The holiday was over.
Another Fourth. The flag still on the porch. The potato salad still Swedish. The dog still afraid of fireworks. The woman still here.
Still here. Still cooking. Still setting two places.
The two places stay.
The potato salad I made that Fourth — the Swedish one, vinaigrette, always vinaigrette, never mayonnaise — is the anchor of the whole meal, the thing that says this is still the same holiday even when the faces around the table have shifted. This pasta salad with poppy seed dressing lives in that same spirit: bright, tangy, dressed with oil and vinegar and something slightly unexpected, the kind of dish that holds its own next to a bratwurst without apology. If you’re building a summer table that needs to feel both familiar and just a little bit alive, this is where I’d start.
Pasta Salad with Poppy Seed Dressing
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min (plus 30 min chilling) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 12 oz rotini or fusilli pasta
- 1 cup halved red grapes
- 1 cup fresh blueberries
- 1/2 cup thinly sliced red onion
- 1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
- 1/3 cup sliced almonds, toasted
- 4 cups baby spinach or chopped romaine
- Poppy Seed Dressing:
- 1/3 cup apple cider vinegar
- 3 tablespoons honey or maple syrup
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 cup neutral oil (such as avocado or light olive oil)
- 1 1/2 teaspoons poppy seeds
Instructions
- Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Drain, rinse under cold water, and set aside to cool completely.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the apple cider vinegar, honey, Dijon mustard, salt, and pepper. Slowly drizzle in the oil while whisking continuously until emulsified. Stir in the poppy seeds. Taste and adjust seasoning.
- Assemble the salad. In a large bowl, combine the cooled pasta, grapes, blueberries, red onion, feta, and greens. Toss gently to distribute evenly.
- Dress and chill. Pour the poppy seed dressing over the salad and toss to coat. Scatter the toasted almonds on top. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before serving to allow the flavors to meld.
- Serve. Toss once more before serving. Best enjoyed the same day, though it keeps covered in the refrigerator for up to 2 days (add almonds just before serving to preserve their crunch).
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 320 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 210mg
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 275 of Linda’s 30-year story
· Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.