I made taco soup on Monday and froze five bags of it, because taco soup is the patron saint of Larson dinners and I will not apologize for the repetition. The week was a summer week, the kind where the light through the kitchen window arrives at a particular angle and the freezer hums in a different register depending on the temperature in the garage. I made notes in my prep notebook on Sunday afternoon, the way I always do: meal name, ingredient list, cost per serving, prep time, freezer instructions. Twenty-eight bags. Two hours and eleven minutes. A little slow this week, by my standards, but Brandon was helping and the conversation was good, and I have learned, slowly and against my own grain, that the conversation is sometimes the point and the time is sometimes a courtesy I extend to my husband for being willing to chop onions on a Sunday afternoon.
Brandon golfed Saturday morning, attended his executive secretary meeting Sunday morning, and did the dishes Wednesday night, which is the rhythm of our life now. We have been married a long time. The arithmetic of it is the arithmetic of my whole life. There were years we missed each other in the same room, and there are years we find each other in the silences, and this is one of the latter, and I am old enough now to know that the latter is the achievement and the former was the cost.
The recipe of the week was penne with sausage, which I have made some specific number of times in my life and have refined to a system that I now hand to other people in printed form. The version I made this week fed eight, cost under fifteen dollars, and required twenty-six minutes of active prep, which is within my requirements and not a coincidence. Sunday prep is twenty-eight bags. I time myself. The accountant never leaves. I have stopped explaining the freezer-meal philosophy to people who already follow my work, and I have stopped apologizing for it to people who do not. The philosophy is simple: tomorrow is coming whether you are ready or not. You can either be ready or not. I pick ready.
The children are doing what they do, which is the central report of every week of my adult life. Ethan is 21, in Manila on his mission, and his last email mentioned a chicken adobo so good he is going to make me make it when he comes home. Olivia is 19, at BYU studying elementary education — the path she chose at age seven and has not deviated from once. Mason, 16, is in Brazil on his mission. His weekly emails are short and full of jokes. He does not write much about the work. He writes about the food. Lily is 14, in high school, asking the kind of questions in Sunday School that make the teachers uncomfortable, which I find difficult and also, secretly, admirable. Noah is 12, the comedian, the performer — the kid who does an impression of my disappointed face in front of company, and gets away with it. That is the family report. I do not have a system for these reports. I just listen and remember and call back when I said I would call back, which is most of the time and not all of the time, and the difference between most and all is the territory of motherhood.
I will close the laptop in a moment. I will go to bed. I will get up tomorrow. The freezer will be there. The photograph will be there. The work will be there. So will I.
Penne with sausage was the headliner this week, but every good prep session has a supporting cast, and roasted cabbage has quietly become one of mine — the kind of recipe that costs almost nothing, asks almost nothing, and delivers every time. Brandon was still at the counter chopping when I slid this onto the sheet pan, and there is something about the way cabbage edges go golden and a little crisp in a hot oven that feels like a reward for showing up on a Sunday afternoon and doing the work. It belongs in the rotation exactly the way it belongs on this page: without apology.
Roasted Cabbage
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 small head green cabbage (about 2 lbs)
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- Optional: pinch of red pepper flakes
- Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish
Instructions
- Preheat oven. Heat oven to 425°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper or foil.
- Slice the cabbage. Remove any wilted outer leaves. Cut the cabbage through the core into 3/4-inch-thick rounds or wedges, keeping the core intact so slices hold together on the pan.
- Season. Brush or drizzle both sides of each slice with olive oil. Combine garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes in a small bowl, then sprinkle evenly over both sides of the cabbage.
- Roast. Arrange slices in a single layer on the prepared baking sheet. Roast for 20–25 minutes, flipping once at the halfway point, until edges are caramelized and golden brown.
- Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving platter, garnish with fresh parsley, and serve warm. Pairs well with sausage dishes, grain bowls, or any weeknight protein.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 95 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 8g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 185mg