Swiss Cheese Salad

Week 600. Six hundred weeks of writing about food and life and the intersection of both. When I started, I was a twenty-three-year-old kid who had just learned to make pierogi and had a part-time food Instagram and a full-time job loading kegs. Now I am thirty-one, married, a father of two, head brewer at Lakefront, owner of a house, and the keeper of a dream that lives in a notebook with forty pages and a savings account with a growing balance. The distance between the kid and the man is measured in pierogi. Thousands of pierogi. Tens of thousands. The dough has not changed. I have.

Tommy is almost three. Ellie is three months. The house is full of noise — Tommy running, Ellie crying, Megan narrating everything to both of them in her teacher voice, me cooking and cleaning and working and dreaming. The noise is the soundtrack of a life that is working. Silence would mean something was wrong. Noise means everything is right.

Summer is coming. Tommy's second summer as a walking, talking person. Ellie's first summer. The smoker will run. The porch will be occupied. The farmers market will provide. The kitchen will cook. The family will eat. The tradition will continue. All of it. Forward. Always forward.

Made Babcia's pierogi — potato and cheese — because week 600 deserves the foundation. The meal that started the blog. The meal that won Megan over. The meal that fed 180 people at our wedding. The meal that Tommy says "peee-oh-gee" for. The meal that Ellie will someday learn. The meal that is not just food but history, told in dough and filling and the work of hands that carry everything forward. Six hundred weeks. Six hundred meals. One tradition. Always.

Megan and Jake married in June 2024. The small newlywed-rhythm is in its small second year. The small two-bedroom rental on the small east-side of Milwaukee continues to be the small first-home. The small thirty-year-mortgage-eventually-someday is the small five-year-goal. The small marriage is the small foundation the small life is being built on.

The small Polish-American heritage is the small kitchen-identity. The small pierogi-recipe-cards from Babcia Helen (Jake’s grandmother who passed in 2018, who had lived two blocks from the small Bay-View family-house) is the small monthly-Saturday-tradition. The small kielbasa-and-sauerkraut. The small bigos. The small recipes that came over from the small Krakow-region in the small 1910s.

The small Milwaukee-winter is the small six-month-condition. The small cold-weather-comfort-food rotation runs October through April. The small soups, the small stews, the small braises, the small heavy-baked-goods. The small Midwestern-comfort-vocabulary is the small kitchen-language.

The small Lakefront Brewery shift-work continues to be the small steady-paycheck. The small forty-hour-week brewery-floor job pays the small twenty-two-an-hour rate that the small Milwaukee-blue-collar-economy supports. The small benefits are the small union-decent. The small ten-year-tenure-target is the small career-anchor.

Megan is from a small Irish-Catholic Milwaukee-suburban family. The small Sunday-dinners at her small parents’ house rotate with the small Sunday-dinners at Jake’s parents’ house. The small in-laws on both sides have been the small welcoming-presence. The small two-family-network is the small extended-support the small newlywed-life rests on.

The small future-kid-conversations have begun. Megan teaches small fourth-grade at a small public school in Wauwatosa. The small adoption-vs-biological conversation is in the small early-discussion stage. The small five-year-plan includes the small kid-or-kids in some form. The small kitchen is the small place where the small future is being practiced.

Six hundred weeks called for Babcia’s pierogi—that was never in question—but after the dough was rolled and the filling was made and Tommy had eaten four of them off my plate with his little hands, I wanted something light alongside, something that let the cheese speak without the ceremony. This Swiss Cheese Salad has been a quiet side in our house for a while now, and on a night this full, it felt right to let something simple carry the table. Cheese started all of this. Cheese can close the meal too.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

8 oz Swiss cheese, cut into thin matchstick strips
1/2 cup thinly sliced red onion
1/2 cup diced dill pickles
1/4 cup sour cream
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
1/2 teaspoon caraway seeds
Salt and black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons fresh chives, chopped, for garnish

Instructions

Cut the cheese. Slice the Swiss cheese into thin matchstick strips, roughly 2 inches long. Place in a large mixing bowl.
Add the vegetables. Add the thinly sliced red onion and diced dill pickles to the bowl with the cheese. Toss gently to distribute evenly.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the sour cream, mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, apple cider vinegar, and caraway seeds until smooth and combined.
Dress the salad. Pour the dressing over the cheese mixture and fold gently until everything is well coated. Season with salt and black pepper to taste.
Chill briefly. Cover and refrigerate for at least 10 minutes before serving to allow the flavors to come together.
Garnish and serve. Transfer to a serving dish, top with fresh chopped chives, and serve chilled alongside your main course.

Nutrition (per serving)

Swiss Cheese Salad — The Cheese That Carried Week 600