By Summer 2040. Marco finished his third season as head coach and made the state finals for the first time. They lost 28-21 to a program from the front range with three times the enrollment, and it was a good game, a hard game, the kind where both teams deserved to win and only one could. He called me after and he was quiet in the way that people are quiet when something they worked hard for didn't quite reach the top. I said: Marco. He said: I know. I said: you made the finals in year three. He said: I know. I said: that's not a consolation. That's the result. He was quiet for a second and said: yeah. Yeah, okay. Then he said: I'm making a list of everything I'm fixing in the off-season. I said: that's the right thing to do. He said: I know. I was watching you do it for twenty years.
I've been talking to Marco more since I retired. Not because we talk about football — sometimes we do, but often we don't. We talk the way fathers and sons talk when the roles have stopped being purely hierarchical and become something more lateral. He'll call about coaching decisions but also about Priya, about whether they're ready to talk about marriage, about whether he wants to stay in Colorado long-term. I try to listen more than I advise. I'm still learning that balance. It's harder than it looks, which is something I should have understood from coaching.
We made tamales in July again — the second year of July tamales. Maya requested it. She arrived at nine in the morning with her step stool and an apron she'd made at school with her name on it. She was wearing it before she got through the door. That's the kind of person she is. Fully committed before she arrives.
We don’t always make tamales start to finish in one session—sometimes the day calls for something quicker, something Maya can shape with her own hands without waiting too long to see the result. Pesto Twists have become our bridge recipe: the one we make when we want that same feeling of working side by side, rolling and pressing and watching something come together, but the oven gets to do the heavy lifting. She twists them herself now. Every single one crooked in its own way, every single one perfect.
Pesto Twists
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes | Servings: 12 twists
Ingredients
- 1 sheet puff pastry, thawed (about 9x9 inches)
- 1/3 cup prepared basil pesto
- 1/4 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese
- 1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
- Flaky sea salt, for topping
- All-purpose flour, for dusting
Instructions
- Preheat. Heat oven to 400°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Roll the pastry. On a lightly floured surface, unfold and gently roll the puff pastry sheet into a roughly 10x12-inch rectangle.
- Spread the pesto. Spoon the pesto evenly over the entire surface of the pastry. Sprinkle the Parmesan cheese over the pesto layer.
- Fold and slice. Fold the pastry in half lengthwise, pressing gently to seal. Using a sharp knife or pizza cutter, slice the folded pastry crosswise into 12 even strips, each about 1 inch wide.
- Twist. Hold each strip at both ends and twist in opposite directions 3—4 times. Place on the prepared baking sheet, pressing the ends down lightly to help them hold their shape.
- Egg wash and season. Brush each twist with beaten egg and sprinkle with a pinch of flaky sea salt.
- Bake. Bake for 13—15 minutes, until puffed and deep golden brown. Let cool for 5 minutes on the pan before serving.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 118 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 8g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 142mg