Memorial Day. A year ago, we were grilling burgers at the apartment complex with Terrence and Mama and Oliver and the whole crew. A year ago the grill was uneven and Jayden ran in circles and Mama brought the potato salad. A year ago was a different planet. This Memorial Day: me and the kids, in the apartment, with burgers I grilled on the George Foreman because the outdoor grill feels wrong without a crowd. A George Foreman Memorial Day. The downgrade of the century.
Thirty-eight weeks. The baby is low and heavy and my back hurts in a way that suggests the baby is using my spine as a pillow. I waddle. I don't walk — I WADDLE. Chloe says I walk like a penguin. Jayden says I walk like a fire truck (everything is compared to a fire truck). I say I walk like a woman who is carrying an eight-pound human in her abdomen and would like to sit down, please, forever, until June.
George Floyd was killed today. May 25th. Minneapolis. I saw it on the news — on my phone, on my couch, in my apartment, thirty-eight weeks pregnant with a Black man's child (yes, Terrence is Black — I haven't said this explicitly because it didn't matter and still doesn't except that today it matters in a way that makes my chest tight and my hands shake). My baby — Sarah Mitchell's baby, white mother, Black father — is going to be born into THIS. Into a world where a man can be killed on camera for being Black and alive at the same time. Into a world where the breath is taken and the world watches and nothing changes or everything changes, depending on whether you're the one who can't breathe.
I called Terrence. He was watching. He'd been watching for hours. His voice was flat — the flat of a man who is processing something that isn't new but is newly unbearable. He said: "Our baby. Our baby is going to live in this." I said: "Our baby is going to live in this and we're going to teach them that their lives matter. Every day. We're going to teach them." He said: "My mama is crying." Gloria is crying. In Decatur. For a man in Minneapolis. Because the distance doesn't matter. Because the breath matters. Because every Black mother in America looked at that video and saw her son.
I didn't cook tonight. I sat on the couch with my kids — my white daughter, my white son, my biracial baby in my belly — and I thought about what I'm going to teach them. What I'm going to feed them besides food. What recipes exist for raising children who know that breath is a right and not a privilege. I don't have those recipes in Earline's box. I'll have to write them myself. New cards. New handwriting. Same box. The box expands. It always has.
I didn’t cook that night — I sat. But in the days that followed, with the baby pressing low and the world pressing heavy, I kept thinking about Mama’s potato salad at last year’s Memorial Day cookout: the way she set it on the table like it was a given, like it was part of the holiday’s grammar. I can’t replicate that day, and I’m not trying to. But I can make a potato salad of my own — a slow-cooker version, because right now slow and steady is the only pace I have — and I can put it on the table and let my kids eat it and begin, one small thing at a time, to write new cards for the box.
Slow-Cooker German Potato Salad
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 4 hrs | Total Time: 4 hrs 20 min | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 2 1/2 lbs red potatoes, unpeeled, sliced 1/4-inch thick
- 6 strips thick-cut bacon, chopped
- 1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
- 2 stalks celery, thinly sliced
- 1/3 cup apple cider vinegar
- 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
- 1 tablespoon whole-grain mustard
- 1/2 teaspoon celery seed
- 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
- 2 tablespoons reserved bacon drippings
Instructions
- Cook the bacon. In a skillet over medium heat, cook the chopped bacon until crisp, 6–8 minutes. Transfer bacon to a paper-towel-lined plate and reserve 2 tablespoons of the drippings. Set aside.
- Sauté the aromatics. In the same skillet with the reserved drippings, cook the diced onion and celery over medium heat until softened, about 4 minutes. Add the apple cider vinegar, sugar, mustard, celery seed, salt, and pepper, stirring to combine. Remove from heat.
- Layer the slow cooker. Place the sliced potatoes in the slow cooker. Pour the warm vinegar-onion mixture over the top and stir gently to coat all the potato slices evenly.
- Cook low and slow. Cover and cook on LOW for 3 1/2 to 4 hours, until the potatoes are tender when pierced with a fork but still hold their shape. Do not cook on HIGH — the potatoes will become mushy.
- Finish and serve. Gently fold in the crispy bacon and chopped parsley. Taste and adjust seasoning. Serve warm directly from the slow cooker, or transfer to a serving bowl.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 218 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 374mg