Sun-Dried Tomato, Spinach and Quinoa Salad

Mother's Day again. Year two. The kids' breakfast skills have improved marginally — Noah's eggs are now fully cooked, Emma's toast is buttered on both sides, and Jack brought me a handful of cherry tomatoes from his garden, still warm, with dirt on them. The tomatoes were the best part. Not because they were the most technically accomplished offering, but because a six-year-old walked to his garden at seven AM and picked something he grew and brought it to his mother, and that is the most ancient expression of love I know: here. I grew this. Eat.

I called Mom. She was making roast chicken, same as always, same as every Sunday since the beginning of time. I asked her what she wanted for Mother's Day. She said she already had it — Dad was eating breakfast. That's all she wants. That's all any of us want, eventually: the people we feed, still eating. Still here. Still reaching for the plate.

Marlene told me a story I'd never heard. When she was first married to Dad, in 1975, she burned a pot roast so badly that the smoke alarm went off and Dad opened every window in the farmhouse in February. She was twenty-three and mortified. Dad ate the burned parts. He said it was good. Forty-two years later, she's still cooking for him and he's still eating, and the pot roast incident is the origin story of a marriage that has survived debt, farm loss, and the slow diminishment of everything except the habit of feeding and being fed.

I made Mom's pot roast for dinner — the real one, not burned — in her honor. Chuck roast, onions, carrots, potatoes, the Weber method. The house smelled like Grinnell. I took a picture and sent it to Mom. She texted back: "More carrots." Always more carrots. Always more cheese. Always more frosting. Marlene Weber believes in abundance the way other people believe in moderation: firmly, without apology, and with better results.

Kevin gave me a card that said, "To the woman who feeds us all. Thank you for the hotdish." It was handwritten. It was Kevin. It was perfect. I put it next to the mailman's framed note in the kitchen. My kitchen wall of fame: one mailman review and one husband card. Both sincere. Both about food. That's my life. That's the whole thing.

Jack’s cherry tomatoes—dirt still on them, still warm from the garden—were the truest thing that happened all day, and I couldn’t stop thinking about them at dinner. I didn’t have Mom’s pot roast to bring to the page here, but I did have this salad: quinoa for staying power, spinach because Marlene would approve of the abundance of greens, and sun-dried tomatoes that carry that same concentrated, sun-soaked sweetness Jack handed me at seven in the morning. It felt right—a dish built around the tomato, the way that whole morning was.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 cup dry quinoa, rinsed
2 cups water or low-sodium vegetable broth
3 cups fresh baby spinach, loosely packed
1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes (oil-packed), drained and roughly chopped
1/3 cup crumbled feta cheese
1/4 cup red onion, thinly sliced
1/4 cup toasted pine nuts or slivered almonds
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
Salt and black pepper, to taste

Instructions

Cook the quinoa. Combine quinoa and water (or broth) in a medium saucepan. 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 slightly.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together olive oil, lemon juice, Dijon mustard, minced garlic, and dried oregano. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Wilt the spinach. While the quinoa is still warm, place the baby spinach in a large salad bowl and spoon the warm quinoa directly over it. Toss gently—the residual heat will lightly wilt the spinach.
Add the remaining ingredients. Add the sun-dried tomatoes, red onion, and toasted pine nuts to the bowl. Drizzle the dressing over the top and toss everything together until evenly coated.
Finish and serve. Scatter crumbled feta over the top. Taste and adjust seasoning. Serve warm, at room temperature, or chilled—it’s good all three ways.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sun-Dried Tomato, Spinach and Quinoa Salad — For the Six-Year-Old Who Picks His Own