By Four weeks. The wedding is in four weeks. I am calm. I am so calm it's making Megan nervous. She said, "Why aren't you stressed?" I said, "Because I'm marrying you. The wedding is logistics. You are the point." She stared at me for three seconds and then said, "That's the most romantic thing you've ever said and you said it while holding a spatula." I was making eggs. Romance and eggs coexist in this apartment.
Linda's annual checkup scan was this week. All clear. Again. The second year of clean scans. The relief never gets old. I called her after and she said, "I'm fine. Stop worrying." I said, "I will never stop worrying." She said, "I know. I love you too." The Kowalski communication style has evolved. We say the words now. We say them every day. The cancer taught us that tomorrow is a rumor and today is the only day you can tell someone you love them.
At the brewery, I'm training Steve on the sour beer protocols for my two weeks away. Steve is competent and careful and slightly terrified of the barrels, which is the correct response to barrels of wild-fermented beer that could turn to vinegar at any moment. I showed him how to pull samples, check acidity, and adjust temperatures. He took notes. Good man. Good replacement. Not permanent — I'm coming back. But for two weeks, the sours are his.
Made shrimp scampi for dinner — shrimp sautéed in butter, garlic, white wine, and lemon juice, served over linguine. It took fifteen minutes. It tasted like a restaurant. The secret is not overcooking the shrimp and using enough butter. The secret to most cooking is enough butter. Babcia knew this. The French know this. I know this. Megan is learning this. She ate the scampi and said, "More butter?" I said, "Always more butter."
The shrimp scampi was for the celebration — fifteen minutes, butter, garlic, done — but this Southwest Quinoa Salad is what I keep coming back to in weeks like this one, when Linda’s scan comes back clean and the whole world exhales. It’s the kind of dish that feels purposeful without being fussy, bright without being loud — the food version of that three-second look Megan gave me by the stove. When things are genuinely good, you don’t need to overthink dinner. You just need something honest and nourishing that respects the moment.
Southwest Quinoa Salad
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 cup dry quinoa, rinsed
- 2 cups low-sodium vegetable or chicken broth
- 1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 cup frozen or fresh corn kernels
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
- 1 red bell pepper, diced
- 1/2 red onion, finely diced
- 1 avocado, diced
- 1/4 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
- 3 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/2 teaspoon chili powder
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- Salt and black pepper to taste
Instructions
- Cook the quinoa. Combine the rinsed quinoa and broth in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 15 minutes until liquid is absorbed. Remove from heat and let sit, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff with a fork and allow to cool for 10 minutes.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the lime juice, olive oil, cumin, chili powder, and garlic powder. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
- Combine the salad. In a large bowl, combine the cooled quinoa, black beans, corn, cherry tomatoes, red bell pepper, and red onion. Pour the dressing over the top and toss to coat evenly.
- Finish and serve. Gently fold in the diced avocado and fresh cilantro just before serving. Taste and adjust seasoning with additional lime juice, salt, or chili powder as needed. Serve at room temperature or chilled.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 14g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 54g | Fiber: 12g | Sodium: 310mg