June is here and school is out and the house has returned to its summer configuration: all five children present and not in chairs anywhere at the same time, the noise level elevated, the refrigerator opening approximately every eight minutes. I have made my peace with June. I used to dread the school getting-out week the way you dread a schedule change, but the last two summers, since Noah started preschool and I had the mornings to myself, have given me enough of a base to return to the full house without feeling like I am losing something. I am gaining something: the whole family, all the noise, all the life.
Summer prep is underway. I switched back to cold-assembly Sunday prep this week: chicken in six marinades, taco soup assembly, marinated pork tenderloin, pasta salad components. The sheet pan goes away. The slow cooker comes out. The oven becomes optional. This is the summer cooking contract I make with myself every June and keep faithfully until October, when the first soup craving overrides everything else.
Ethan has a summer job. Actual employment, not lawn mowing: he was hired at the local ice cream shop three shifts per week. He is thirteen and has a work permit and he came home from his first shift smelling like waffle cones and with the quiet satisfaction of someone who has been paid for work they did with their hands. He put the first check in an envelope and wrote MISSION FUND on the front in his handwriting, which his father saw and said nothing about for a long moment, and then said: good man, and went to the garage. The garage is still where Brandon keeps his feelings, but this one I heard him put there with something that sounded like gladness.
The library workshop is three weeks away. I have a new handout. The cost floor is ninety cents per serving for a family of four. I tested every recipe at that threshold. Every single one passed.
The bean salad is the one I keep coming back to every June when I switch back to cold-assembly prep — no oven, no sheet pan, just a bowl and a good marinade and fifteen minutes on a Sunday afternoon. It fits right alongside the marinated chicken and the taco soup components, and it costs so little per serving that I tested it twice just to believe the number. Ethan’s first paycheck going straight into a MISSION FUND envelope felt like the right kind of summer beginning, and feeding the whole house well without turning on the oven felt like the right kind of June cooking — this salad is exactly that.
Summer Bean Salad
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes + 1 hour chilling | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 1 (15 oz) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
- 1 (15 oz) can kidney beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 (15 oz) can black beans, drained and rinsed
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
- 1/2 English cucumber, diced
- 1/3 cup red onion, finely diced
- 1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
- 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Instructions
- Drain and prep the beans. Drain and rinse all three cans of beans thoroughly. Spread on a clean towel and pat dry to keep the dressing from getting watery.
- Combine the vegetables. Add the beans, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, red onion, and parsley to a large mixing bowl. Toss gently to distribute evenly.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, red wine vinegar, Dijon mustard, honey, garlic powder, oregano, salt, and pepper until fully combined.
- Dress the salad. Pour the dressing over the bean mixture and stir to coat everything well. Taste and adjust salt or vinegar as needed.
- Chill before serving. Cover and refrigerate for at least one hour before serving. The salad holds well for up to five days in the refrigerator, making it ideal for Sunday prep.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 10g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 28g | Fiber: 8g | Sodium: 340mg