Peach Salad — Betty’s Bowl of Summer, Carried Forward

The heat settled into Lexington this week like a relative who's overstayed their welcome. Ninety-four on Wednesday. Ninety-six on Thursday. The kind of heat that makes the asphalt soft and the tempers short and the cold beer at five o'clock feel like a religious experience. On the construction site, we start at six and try to get the heavy work done before noon, but framing doesn't wait for the weather and the schedule doesn't care about the heat index.

I lost a guy on Wednesday — not dead, quit. Marcus, twenty-four, good worker, just couldn't take it. Told me at lunch he was done, handed me his hard hat, and walked to his car. I didn't argue. You can't convince a man to suffer if he doesn't want to. The mines taught me that. The ones who stayed in the mines were the ones who had no other option or the ones who were too stubborn to admit they had other options. I was the second kind. Marcus had options. Good for Marcus.

When it's this hot, you don't want heavy food. You want cold food, light food, food that doesn't require standing in front of a stove. This is where Betty's cucumber and onion salad comes in. It's the simplest thing in the world: slice cucumbers thin, slice a sweet onion thin, put them in a bowl with white vinegar, a little sugar, salt, pepper, and enough water to make it almost soupy. Let it sit in the fridge for at least an hour. The vinegar pickles the cucumbers slightly, the sugar balances the acid, and the onion mellows from sharp to sweet. You eat it cold, straight from the bowl, with a fork or a spoon or honestly your fingers if nobody's looking.

Betty made this all summer long. There was always a bowl of it in the refrigerator from June through September. She'd make a fresh batch every two or three days — the cucumbers came from the garden, the onions came from the garden, the vinegar came from the pantry. It cost almost nothing. It fed everyone. It tasted like summer in a bowl. I make it now, here in Lexington, with cucumbers from Kroger that aren't as good as Betty's garden cucumbers but are good enough, and every time I eat it I'm standing at the open refrigerator in Evarts at age ten, eating cucumbers with my fingers while Betty tells me to get a plate.

Clay is at football conditioning this week. Two-a-days don't start until August but the coaches run a voluntary summer program that is voluntary in the way that breathing is voluntary — technically optional, practically mandatory. He comes home drenched and starving and eats approximately four thousand calories and falls asleep on the couch by eight. It's good for him. Structure is good for a sixteen-year-old boy. Without structure, they're just big puppies knocking things over.

Connie and I ate cucumber salad on the back porch Thursday night, just the two of us. Clay was asleep. The fireflies were coming out — late June in Kentucky, the yard fills up with them, hundreds of small lights floating through the dark. Connie said she loved fireflies. I said I loved cucumber salad. She looked at me. I looked at her. "I love you too," I said, because sometimes even a Hensley man can read the room. She laughed. That was a good night.

That Thursday night on the back porch with Connie and the fireflies — that’s the night I remembered why summer food should be simple and cold and require almost no effort, because the heat takes enough out of you already. Betty’s cucumber salad is always in the rotation, but when the peaches at Kroger are ripe and the idea of standing over anything warm is unbearable, this peach salad is the other bowl that shows up on our back porch table. It’s the same philosophy: fresh, cold, sweet, a little sharp, and done before you have time to talk yourself out of making it.

Peach Salad

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 4 ripe peaches, pitted and sliced (about 4 cups)
• 1/4 red onion, very thinly sliced
• 1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 1 tablespoon white balsamic or apple cider vinegar
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 2 ounces crumbled feta cheese (optional)

Instructions

1. Slice the peaches. Halve and pit the peaches, then cut into 1/2-inch wedges or chunks. No need to peel — the skin softens quickly and adds color.
2. Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, honey, vinegar, salt, and pepper until combined.
3. Assemble. Add the sliced peaches and red onion to a large bowl. Drizzle the dressing over the top and toss gently to coat.
4. Finish and rest. Scatter the torn basil over the salad. If using feta, crumble it on last. Let the salad sit for 5 minutes before serving so the peaches release a little juice and the onion mellows slightly.
5. Serve cold. Serve immediately at room temperature or refrigerate for up to an hour. Stir gently before serving if it’s been chilled.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 145 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 21g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 160mg