Poppy Seed Slaw — What I Brought When the Block Needed Me

Zoe graduates and heads to Savannah College of Art and Design for graphic design. The house is now truly empty-nested: just Tamika, Derek, and Curtis. Tamika cooks for three and keeps accidentally making food for six.

Sunday service at New Birth this morning. The choir sang. I sang soprano in the second alto row. Pastor preached about Naomi and Ruth. The congregation said amen. I said amen.

Tuesday evening I sat at the kitchen table with my composition notebook and worked on the cookbook. From Brenda's Kitchen — that's the working title. I cannot write the introduction without crying yet.

I drove to the Walmart on Camp Creek Saturday morning. The kind of grocery run that takes two hours because you run into three people you know. Sister Patrice caught me in the produce. We talked about her grandbaby for fifteen minutes.

The neighbors had a Friday cookout this week. I brought my mac and cheese. They have come to expect this. I have come to expect this. The block is the block.

I read for an hour Sunday night before bed. Some novel about a Black woman in 1960s Alabama. Mama would have liked it.

Daddy sat in his chair after dinner watching the news. He fell asleep before the third quarter. Standard.

Thursday I made cornbread for a sister at church whose husband had surgery. I dropped it off at the hospital. She cried at the door. I told her, eat the cornbread, baby. The food is the saying.

The blood pressure check was Wednesday. The numbers were borderline. The doctor wants me to walk more. I am walking more.

I had a hard counseling case at school this week. A seventh-grade girl whose mama lost her job. We talked. I gave her my number. I told her she could call.

Darnell sent a photo from Clarksville. The garden is producing. He grew tomatoes the size of softballs. I sent him back a photo of my sweet potato casserole. We are competitive about food now in our middle age.

I went to the cemetery Saturday morning. Brenda's grave is on the hill at South-View. Curtis still goes most Sundays. I left a small bouquet of magnolias.

Wednesday Bible study at the church. We read through Proverbs. The women in my row argued about whether wisdom is built or born. I said both. They agreed, sort of.

The kids were home for the weekend. The house was loud the way it should be.

Saturday morning I had Set the Table at the Cascade Heights center. Twelve young women. We did baked chicken. One of them — Imani, sixteen — was so afraid of seasoning that she barely shook the salt. I stood next to her and put my hand over hers and said, baby, you cannot be afraid of food. We seasoned the chicken. The chicken came out right. She glowed.

Andre called from LA. He told the Kevin Hart story again. Twenty-some years and that boy is still telling that story. Everyone in this family is going to hear about Kevin Hart at our funerals.

Miss Ernestine called Tuesday. She's ninety-something and sharp as ever. She told me my potato salad still needs more mustard.

I made a casserole for the church potluck. The pan came back empty. That is the only review I trust.

Derek and I had date night Friday. Same restaurant, same booth, same enchiladas for me and carne asada for him.

Pastor preached about the prodigal son again. He preaches about that boy at least three times a year. The text is the text but every preaching is different. I cried in the second service this time. Don't ask me why.

The neighbors’ Friday cookout has become a kind of ritual on this block, and my contribution has shifted over the years from trying to impress to just showing up right. This summer, with the house quieter than it’s ever been and Zoe’s chair sitting empty at the table, I needed something I could make with my hands and carry out the door — something that said I’m still here, I’m still feeding people. This poppy seed slaw is exactly that: crisp, a little sweet, tangy enough to cut through the heat, and sturdy enough to sit on a folding table all evening without apology.

Poppy Seed Slaw

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min + 1 hr chill | Servings: 10

Ingredients

• 6 cups green cabbage, finely shredded (about 1/2 medium head)
• 2 cups red cabbage, finely shredded
• 1 1/2 cups carrots, shredded (about 3 medium)
• 1/3 cup red onion, thinly sliced
• 3/4 cup mayonnaise
• 3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
• 2 tablespoons honey
• 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• 1 1/2 tablespoons poppy seeds
• 1/2 teaspoon celery salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• Salt to taste

Instructions

1. Prep the vegetables. Shred the green and red cabbage as fine as you can get it — a mandoline or sharp knife both work. Shred the carrots and slice the red onion thin. Combine everything in a large mixing bowl.
2. Make the dressing. In a separate bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, apple cider vinegar, honey, and Dijon mustard until smooth. Stir in the poppy seeds, celery salt, and black pepper.
3. Combine. Pour the dressing over the cabbage mixture and toss thoroughly until every strand is coated. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
4. Chill. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving. This lets the slaw soften slightly and the flavors come together. It holds well for up to 24 hours — it actually gets better.
5. Serve. Give it one more toss before putting it on the table. It will go fast. Bring the pan home empty.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 145 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 10g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 210mg