The Fourth of July is next week and I'm already planning. This is what I do — I plan food. Other people plan vacations or home renovations or their retirement. I plan what I'm going to feed people, and I start at least a week early because some things need time. The baked beans need to be started Thursday. The potato salad is better if it sits overnight. The coleslaw dressing needs to meld. And the pork tenderloin sandwiches — plural, because we're having Kevin's brother Craig and his family over — require a production line of butterflying, pounding, breading, and frying that takes up every inch of counter space.
This week was regular, though. Monday through Friday of working and cooking and driving and refereeing arguments about who gets the front seat, which nobody gets because they're all in the back seat and the front seat is for groceries. I made a tuna casserole Wednesday that nobody liked except me. Egg noodles, cream of mushroom soup, canned tuna, frozen peas, crushed potato chips on top. It's a Midwest classic that my generation loves and my children's generation regards with the suspicion reserved for war crimes.
Noah came home from robotics camp with a robot that can navigate a maze. He demonstrated it on the kitchen floor using cereal boxes as walls. The robot got stuck twice, Noah adjusted the code on a laptop — my ten-year-old adjusting code — and on the third try it made it through. Kevin and I clapped. Jack watched with the quiet intensity he brings to anything that involves problem-solving, which at five is mostly limited to "how do I reach the cookie jar" but will scale up eventually.
I found Marlene's recipe for bread-and-butter pickles tucked inside the Joy of Cooking on the shelf. The handwriting is Mom's — her looped script, the abbreviations only she uses, "T" for tablespoon, "t" for teaspoon, no further explanation because Marlene assumes you know. The recipe card is stained with turmeric, which is what gives bread-and-butter pickles their golden color. I held it for a minute. I put it back. Not ready to make pickles in this kitchen yet. The kitchen isn't mine yet. Maybe by August.
Kevin and I watched the lightning from the deck. Summer storms in Iowa come fast and mean and gorgeous — the sky turns green and the wind picks up and then it just opens up and dumps everything it has. We sat there with our coffee and watched the light show and didn't talk and it was perfect.
The tuna casserole Wednesday was mine alone, and honestly, I’m fine with that — there’s something quietly satisfying about a dish that tastes exactly like your own childhood. But I started thinking about what it would take to get the boys to actually come to the table for tuna without the suspicious squinting, and the answer turned out to be: skip the oven, skip the cream of mushroom, and let it be cold. This tuna pasta salad has all the same pantry logic as the casserole — noodles, tuna, peas — but it’s brighter and lighter, the kind of thing that actually sounds good in July, especially in a kitchen that isn’t quite yours yet but is getting there.
Tuna Pasta Salad
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min (plus 30 min chill) | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 12 oz rotini or elbow pasta
- 2 cans (5 oz each) chunk light tuna in water, drained
- 1 cup frozen peas, thawed
- 1/2 cup celery, finely diced (about 2 stalks)
- 1/3 cup red onion, finely diced
- 1/2 cup mayonnaise
- 2 tablespoons plain Greek yogurt
- 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
- 1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon celery salt
- Salt and black pepper to taste
- Fresh parsley, chopped, for garnish (optional)
Instructions
- Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Drain and rinse under cold water until completely cool. Shake off excess water.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, Greek yogurt, Dijon mustard, apple cider vinegar, garlic powder, and celery salt until smooth. Season with salt and pepper.
- Combine. In a large mixing bowl, add the cooled pasta, drained tuna, thawed peas, celery, and red onion. Pour the dressing over and fold everything together gently until evenly coated.
- Chill. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes before serving to let the flavors come together. Overnight is even better.
- Taste and serve. Before serving, taste and adjust seasoning — pasta salads often need a pinch more salt after chilling. Garnish with fresh parsley if desired.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 380 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 44g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 490mg