By Summer begins. Marcus is thirteen and officially insufferable in the way that thirteen-year-olds are insufferable: everything I say is wrong, everything I wear is embarrassing, and every rule I enforce is "literally the most unfair thing that has ever happened." He said "literally" fourteen times last Tuesday. I counted. I love him with a ferocity that terrifies me. I also want to send him to a camp. A long camp. In another state. I won't. But I want to.
He's signed up for a summer debate camp at Emory University — Terrell's alma mater, which I try not to think about. Two weeks, day sessions, he'll learn advanced argumentation techniques, which is essentially weaponizing a teenager and calling it education. The camp costs four hundred dollars. Terrell offered to pay half. He offered without being asked. Mark the calendar: Terrell Washington voluntarily spent money on his son's education. I said yes before he could change his mind.
Jasmine is doing summer choir camp at the community center — two weeks of singing, performance, music theory. She is ten years old and she can read sheet music, which I cannot do, which means my daughter has surpassed me in at least one area and the others are surely coming. Derek's daughter Zoe is in the same camp. I know this because Derek mentioned it casually. Too casually. The man is strategic. He plants seeds the way Curtis plants tomatoes: quietly, deliberately, knowing they'll grow.
Fourth date: Derek and I went to the movies. An actual movie, in a theater, with popcorn and the armrest between us that neither of us moved. The movie was forgettable. The popcorn was good. His hand was on the armrest. My hand was on the armrest. At some point during the second act, his pinky touched mine. Not held. Touched. A pinky touch. I am thirty-seven years old and a man's pinky touching mine in a dark theater made my heart rate increase, which is either romantic or a medical concern. I choose romantic.
Made jambalaya for the first week of summer — a big pot, enough for three days of leftovers. Andouille sausage, shrimp, rice, the Cajun seasoning that makes the kitchen smell like New Orleans even though we're in Georgia. Marcus ate it for dinner, then breakfast, then lunch, then requested it again for dinner. He has his father's appetite and his grandmother's stubbornness and my inability to say no to a boy who says "please" with his mouth full.
That jambalaya pot carried us through the first week of summer and reminded me why I love big-batch cooking when the calendar fills up fast — one effort, many meals, zero regrets. This Senegalese Black-Eyed Pea Salad has become my other warm-weather anchor: no stove required once the peas are ready, full of bright lime and fresh herbs, and honestly better on day two than day one, which means leftovers feel like a gift rather than a compromise. I made a huge bowl the same week Marcus started debate camp, and it sat in the fridge ready for whoever needed it — which, in a house with a thirteen-year-old and a ten-year-old in choir camp, is everyone, constantly, always.
Senegalese Black-Eyed Pea Salad (Saladu —ebbe)
Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes (using canned peas) | Total Time: 35 minutes (includes resting) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 3 cans (15 oz each) black-eyed peas, drained and rinsed
- 1 medium red onion, finely diced
- 2 medium Roma tomatoes, seeded and diced
- 1 green bell pepper, finely diced
- 1 small jalapeño, seeded and minced (optional, for heat)
- 1/3 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
- 2 tablespoons fresh mint leaves, chopped
- 1 can (5 oz) tuna packed in oil, drained (optional but traditional)
- 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
- 1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper, or to taste
- 3/4 teaspoon fine sea salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the lime juice, white wine vinegar, olive oil, Dijon mustard, cayenne, salt, and black pepper until fully emulsified. Taste and adjust — it should be tangy and bright.
- Build the salad base. In a large bowl, combine the drained black-eyed peas, red onion, tomatoes, green bell pepper, and jalapeño (if using). If adding tuna, flake it in gently with a fork.
- Add the herbs. Scatter the chopped parsley and mint over the top. The herbs are not garnish here — they’re structural. Don’t skimp.
- Dress and toss. Pour the dressing over the salad and fold everything together gently so the peas stay intact. Taste for seasoning and add more salt, lime, or cayenne as needed.
- Rest before serving. Let the salad sit at room temperature for at least 15 minutes before serving so the flavors can marry. For best results, refrigerate for 1 hour and serve at room temperature. This salad holds beautifully in the fridge for up to 3 days — it genuinely improves overnight.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 215 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 310mg