By Megan's school year is ending. Her seventh year. The kids are squirrely, the weather is distracting, and she's doing the thing she does every May — falling in love with the class she's about to lose. Iris wrote a poem about friendship that made Megan cry in the supply closet. Mateo drew a dinosaur family portrait that included Ms. Kowalski as a pterodactyl. Megan framed it. It's on the fridge next to Gerald the tomato plant's name tag and the wedding invitation and all the other artifacts of our life.
We've been clearing the second bedroom more deliberately now. The hockey gear is in the closet. The teaching supplies are boxed and in storage. The room is mostly empty — just a desk and a lamp and the ghost of what it's becoming. Neither of us says the word "nursery." Neither of us needs to. The empty room speaks for itself.
At the brewery, I'm thinking about the future. Not the pierogi shop — that's still in the dream category, still simmering on the back burner. I mean the immediate future: What do I want to brew next year? Where do I want the sour program to go? Am I going to be a brewer forever? The answer to the last question used to be yes, unequivocally. Now it's yes, probably, but with an asterisk. The asterisk is Helen's. The asterisk is twelve stools and Babcia's recipes. The asterisk is getting louder.
Made shrimp tacos for dinner — grilled shrimp, corn tortillas, a slaw of cabbage and lime, avocado, hot sauce. Summer food in late spring because I'm ready for summer, emotionally and gastronomically. Megan ate three tacos and said, "You should make these every week." I will make these every week. The repertoire grows. The marriage cookbook gets thicker.
Megan’s verdict on the shrimp tacos — “make these every week” — stuck with me the next morning when I was thinking about what to drink before a long shift at the brewery. I wanted something that matched the mood: bright, a little tropical, ready for a season that hasn’t technically started yet. The leftover avocado from taco night was sitting on the counter, and I figured if avocado worked that well in a taco, it could carry a smoothie too. Turns out, it can.
Pineapple Avocado Smoothie
Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 2
Ingredients
- 1 cup frozen pineapple chunks
- 1 ripe avocado, pitted and scooped
- 1 cup unsweetened almond milk (or milk of choice)
- 1/2 cup plain Greek yogurt
- 1 tablespoon honey or agave, to taste
- 1/2 cup ice cubes
- Juice of 1/2 lime
- Pinch of salt
Instructions
- Prep the avocado. Halve, pit, and scoop the avocado flesh directly into the blender. No need to pre-chill — the frozen pineapple handles that.
- Add remaining ingredients. Pour in the almond milk, Greek yogurt, frozen pineapple, lime juice, honey, ice, and salt.
- Blend until smooth. Run the blender on high for 45–60 seconds until completely creamy with no avocado chunks remaining. Scrape down the sides if needed and blend again.
- Taste and adjust. Add more honey if you want it sweeter, more lime if you want it brighter, or a splash more milk if it’s too thick for your liking.
- Serve immediately. Pour into two glasses and drink right away — avocado oxidizes quickly and the smoothie is best fresh.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 240 | Protein: 8g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 95mg