By Sofía started nursing school on Monday. Week one. The baby in a white coat — well, in scrubs, the scrubs are not white, they are the school's color, which is navy blue — and in the car on the way there she was nervous, she was quiet, she was twenty-two years old but for a moment she was six years old again and afraid of the first day of kindergarten.
I did not dramatize it. I said, "Mija, you have wanted this for five years. You are ready. You will be excellent. You are a Delgado and we do not fail in public." She laughed the nervous laugh that is half her father's and half mine. I dropped her at the curb. She hugged me. I did not cry. I got in the car and drove to the hospital parking lot across the street and I sat there for twenty minutes and then I cried in the passenger seat for eleven minutes and then I went to work.
To celebrate the first week — and to push against the sadness of the last week, which had been heavy, because Mami had two hard days — I made pernil on Saturday. Not Sunday. Saturday. A Saturday pernil is a special pernil, a declaratory pernil, a pernil that says: something happened, come over, eat. Sofía came. Miguel Jr. and Jenny came. Rosa was in New Haven with a work conference and could not. Mami came.
The pernil was a beast. Eleven pounds. Marinated Thursday night. Roasted all day Saturday, the low-and-slow method my mother taught me and her mother taught her — 275 degrees for six hours, until the bone slides out, until the skin has turned to glass. The cuerito — the skin — cracked when I knocked on it with a spoon, and Eduardo, who is the designated cuerito-slicer, cut it into pieces with the scissors we use only for cuerito, and he handed Mami the first piece, as is tradition.
She ate it slowly. She closed her eyes. She said, "This is exactly right." Not one word of criticism. Not one correction. The first piece of cuerito on a perfectly cooked pernil on a Saturday in June, and my mother said it was exactly right. I will remember that sentence the rest of my life.
Sofía told us about orientation. The anatomy lab. The instructors. The textbook that costs $340 and is printed in a font smaller than the Bible. She is going to be tired. She is going to be overwhelmed. She will not fail. I can see it in her. So can Eduardo. So can Mami, who between bites said, "My granddaughter will be a nurse. The first Delgado nurse. Abuela Consuelo would be proud." And I do not know if Mami remembered that Abuela Consuelo was her mother-in-law, actually, and not the one Sofía is descended from through me, but it did not matter. The blessing was offered. The blessing landed. Wepa.
A Saturday pernil that weighs eleven pounds and roasts for six hours deserves a table full of sides, and this slaw — cool, a little sweet, a little sharp — is the one I reach for every June because it cuts right through the richness of the pork and keeps the whole plate from feeling heavy. I first made it alongside pernil the summer Sofía was in high school, and now it is as much a part of the celebration as the cuerito scissors. If you are making a declaratory pernil — the kind that says “something happened, come over, eat” — put this next to it.
Summertime Slaw
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 20 min (plus 30 min chill) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 4 cups green cabbage, thinly shredded
- 2 cups red cabbage, thinly shredded
- 1 cup shredded carrots (about 2 medium carrots)
- 1/2 cup thinly sliced red onion
- 1/2 cup fresh cilantro leaves, roughly chopped
- 1 jalapeño, seeded and minced (optional)
- 3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
- 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 1 large lime)
- 2 tablespoons honey
- 3 tablespoons mayonnaise
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon celery seed
Instructions
- Combine the vegetables. In a large mixing bowl, toss together the green cabbage, red cabbage, shredded carrots, red onion, cilantro, and jalapeño if using. Mix until evenly distributed.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the apple cider vinegar, lime juice, honey, and mayonnaise until smooth. Season with salt, pepper, and celery seed.
- Dress the slaw. Pour the dressing over the vegetable mixture and toss thoroughly until every strand is coated. Taste and adjust salt or lime juice as needed.
- Chill before serving. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before serving. This resting time allows the cabbage to soften slightly and the flavors to meld. The slaw holds well for up to 24 hours; stir before serving.
- Serve. Transfer to a serving dish alongside roasted meats, grilled proteins, or as a standalone summer salad. Garnish with extra cilantro if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 85 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 12g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 280mg