Pineapple Salad Dressing

Salmon running. Joseph on the boat. The freight plane bringing fish to Anchorage. Pete and I worked the night shift Friday. We talked between codes about the kids — his daughter's wedding planning, my sister's pregnancy. The talking was the keeping.

Lourdes is 75. She is slower. She still cooks. She still tells me to find a husband even though I have one. Joseph said something funny Sunday on the phone. I do not remember exactly what. The funny is the brother.

I made salmon sinigang Sunday. Reynaldo's recipe. One extra squeeze of tamarind. The recipe is the rope.

I wrote the blog post Friday night at the kitchen table while Reyna napped on the couch. The post was short. The post was honest.

The week held. The kitchen held. The chain holds.

The Filipino Community newsletter announced a fundraiser for typhoon relief in Samar. I committed to making three hundred lumpia. The number is the number. The number has always been the number. Three hundred is what I make. The math has stopped surprising me.

I took inventory of the freezer Sunday. The freezer had: twelve quarts of broth, eight pounds of adobo in vacuum bags, six pounds of sinigang base, fourteen lumpia trays at fifty rolls each, three pounds of marinated beef for caldereta, and a small bag of pandan leaves Tita Nening had sent me. The inventory was the proof of preparation. The preparation was the proof of love.

I taught a Saturday morning Kain Na class on basic adobo proportions for new cooks. Eleven people in the kitchen. Half of them had never cooked Filipino food before. By eleven AM the kitchen smelled the way it should smell. By noon they were all eating. The eating was the lesson landing.

I checked email at the kitchen table while the rice cooked. There were one hundred and twenty unread messages. I closed the laptop. The unread can wait.

I took a walk on the coastal trail Saturday. The light was good. The body was tired but moving.

The therapy session this month was about pacing. Dr. Reeves said, "Grace. The pacing is the love for the future self." I am working on the pacing. The pacing is harder than the loving.

The Anchorage sky was the Anchorage sky. The mountains were the mountains. The inlet was the inlet. The geography was the geography.

Lourdes called me twice this week. The first call was about a church event. The second was about a recipe variation she had remembered from her childhood. The remembering was the gift.

A reader from New Jersey wrote in about her grandmother's adobo, which used pineapple. I had never heard of pineapple in adobo. I tried it. It was strange. It was also good. The strange and the good are not opposites.

I drove the Glenn Highway out to Eklutna on Saturday. The mountains were the mountains. The lake was the lake. The body needed the open road. The open road did its work.

The light was good Saturday morning. I sat on the porch with a cup of coffee and watched the inlet for forty minutes. The watching was the small therapy. The therapy was free.

The Filipino Community newsletter announced the Saturday gathering. I will be on lumpia duty. I am always on lumpia duty.

I sat on the balcony in the cold for ten minutes Sunday night with a cup of broth in my hands. The cold was the cold. The broth was the broth. The body held both.

I read three chapters of the novel Saturday night before sleep. The novel was about a Filipina nurse in California. The nurse was being undone by her work. I knew the unraveling. I had lived the unraveling. I read on. The reading was the witnessing.

When the reader from New Jersey wrote in about her grandmother’s pineapple adobo, I tried it the same week — and she was right, it was strange, and it was also good. That pineapple stayed in my head. I started thinking about what else it could do, somewhere lighter, somewhere it didn’t have to compete with soy sauce and vinegar. This dressing came out of that curiosity: simple, bright, a little unexpected — the kind of thing that earns its place quietly, the way most good things do.

Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 5 min | Servings: 8 (about 2 tablespoons each)

Ingredients

1 can (8 oz) crushed pineapple, undrained
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon honey
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Instructions

Combine. Add the crushed pineapple (with its juice), apple cider vinegar, olive oil, honey, garlic, and ginger to a blender or food processor.
Blend. Process on medium-high for about 30 seconds until the dressing is smooth and the pineapple is fully incorporated.
Season. Add salt and pepper, then blend for another 5 seconds. Taste and adjust — a little more honey if you want it sweeter, a little more vinegar if you want it sharper.
Chill. Transfer to a jar or airtight container and refrigerate for at least 15 minutes before serving. The flavors settle and brighten as it rests.
Serve. Shake or stir before use. Pairs well with green salads, grilled fish, or a simple slaw. Keeps refrigerated for up to one week.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pineapple Salad Dressing — The Strange and the Good Are Not Opposites