Tortellini Pasta Salad

Daylight saving math. The kids' bedtime is broken for two weeks. Caleb had baseball practice Tuesday and Thursday. I drove.

Caleb, 8, wants to be a firefighter still. Has not deviated. Hazel, 4, chaos incarnate. Put a peanut butter sandwich in the DVD player Wednesday. Showed zero remorse.

Tuna casserole Tuesday. Donna's recipe. The exact same casserole my mom made when my dad was deployed and we needed comfort that came in a 9x13.

I made a casserole because I always make a casserole.

I read the blog comments at the kitchen table with my coffee. A young spouse in Lejeune emailed me about deployment cooking. I wrote her back at length. I told her about the freezer. I told her about Donna. I told her she would survive. I sent her three of Donna's recipes.

I made a casserole for a neighbor whose husband is deployed. I dropped it off. She cried. I told her, eat the casserole, baby. The food is the saying. The casserole was a mostly-frozen tater-tot situation that took fifteen minutes of effort and six months of practice to perfect.

Donna sent a recipe card in the mail this week. She has been doing this for years. The recipes go in the binder. The binder is full. The newest one is for a green bean casserole that uses fresh green beans and fried shallots and which I will absolutely make for the next holiday.

Base housing is base housing. Beige walls, beige carpet, beige expectations. The dryer venting is in a stupid place. The kitchen has no dishwasher. We make it work.

Dad called. He has been gardening. He is sending zucchini updates again. The PTSD is managed. He talks more than he used to. He is becoming his own version of healed, which I did not think was possible at fourteen.

Ryan went to his counselor Wednesday. He always comes home calmer. I am calm too, just from him being calm. The man Torres was killed with — Ryan calls his wife twice a year on Torres's birthday and the anniversary. The military widows are their own community.

Reading another military memoir at night. They make Ryan tense. They steady me. We negotiate. He doesn't ask what I'm reading. I don't tell him. The arrangement works.

I unpacked another box from storage Tuesday afternoon. Three years on this base and I am still finding things I packed in Twentynine Palms. Military-wife archeology — every box is a layer of geological history. I found a ceramic dish from Lejeune still wrapped in newspaper from 2020.

The kids' soccer game was Saturday morning. The other parents brought oranges and Capri Suns. I brought a thermos of coffee for myself and a folding chair I bought at Target three years ago that has been to four duty stations now. The chair is a more loyal companion than some of my friends.

Hazel and I had a hard moment Tuesday at homework time. She is in a season of testing limits. We worked through it. We always do. She is mine.

My therapy session was Tuesday. We talked about the deployment cycle and the way the body holds dread and the ways the body holds it. The hour passed. The work continues. I have been doing this work for years. The work pays.

Ryan's friends came over Friday for a beer. I made wings and chips. They demolished both. Standard Marine appetite — they eat like they are still on rations. The kitchen looked like a battlefield by the end. They cleaned up. Marines clean up. Donna would have been impressed.

Tuna casserole is Donna’s territory, and I’ll never touch her formula — but when Friday rolled around and Ryan’s friends showed up hungry and loud and wonderful, I needed something that could stretch, travel, and survive a Marine appetite without requiring me to stand at the stove. This tortellini pasta salad has been in my back pocket for exactly those moments: the drop-off meals, the soccer sidelines, the nights when the casserole binder is already full and the kitchen table already has coffee rings on it. It’s not Donna’s recipe, but she’d approve — it feeds people, and that’s the whole point.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min (plus 1 hr chilling) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

20 oz refrigerated cheese tortellini
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1 cup cucumber, diced
1/2 cup black olives, sliced
1/2 cup roasted red peppers, chopped
1/3 cup red onion, finely diced
4 oz salami or pepperoni, quartered
4 oz provolone or mozzarella, cubed
1/2 cup Italian dressing (store-bought or homemade)
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
Fresh or dried parsley, for garnish

Instructions

Cook the tortellini. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook tortellini according to package directions until just tender, about 7–9 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water to stop cooking. Spread on a sheet pan to cool completely.
Prep the mix-ins. While the tortellini cools, halve the tomatoes, dice the cucumber and red onion, slice the olives, chop the roasted red peppers, and cube the cheese. Quarter the salami or pepperoni slices.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the Italian dressing, red wine vinegar, Italian seasoning, and garlic powder. Taste and adjust seasoning.
Combine. In a large bowl, toss the cooled tortellini with all the vegetables, meat, and cheese. Pour the dressing over the top and toss gently until everything is evenly coated.
Chill. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving — or overnight. The flavors deepen as it sits. Give it a good stir and a taste before serving; add a splash more dressing if it looks dry.
Garnish and serve. Transfer to a serving bowl or a 9x13 (naturally), scatter parsley over the top, and set it out. It holds well at room temperature for up to 2 hours, making it ideal for drop-offs and potlucks.

Nutrition (per serving)

Tortellini Pasta Salad — The Casserole Didn’t Make Itself, But This One Comes Close