Tuna Pasta Salad — The Summer Table We Cook For

Three weeks until surgery. The countdown is real now. August 12 is circled on the calendar in the kitchen — Denise circled it, in red, because Denise believes that important dates should be visible and alarming. I look at that red circle every morning when I make my tea and I feel two things simultaneously: dread and hope. Dread because someone is going to cut open my knee and replace it with metal and plastic. Hope because on the other side of that metal and plastic is a knee that works. A knee that kneels. A knee that stands at the stove without screaming.

I've been cooking ahead. Freezing things. Not for Tasha this time — for myself. For the six weeks when I will be in this house with a walker and a new knee and an inability to stand at the stove, and I will still need to eat. I have made and frozen: twelve servings of chicken and dumplings. Eight servings of collard greens. Six servings of oxtails and rice. A vat of chicken broth that could fill a bathtub. Two pans of mac and cheese. A gallon of red rice. Denise said, "Mama, we're going to cook for you." I said, "Denise, you're going to cook for me AND I'm going to have food that was made by someone who knows what she's doing." She was offended. She got over it.

The truth is: I'm scared. Not of the surgery — Kayla has explained the procedure so many times I could probably perform it myself — but of the recovery. Of being still. Of sitting while other people cook in my kitchen, with my pots, at my stove. Of watching instead of doing. I have been doing my whole life. I did when Willie James died. I did when Michael died. I did when Earl died. I cooked. I fed. I stood at the stove and I turned grief into food and food into love and love into the reason to keep standing. What happens when I can't stand?

Kayla must have sensed something because she came over Thursday evening — not for a medical reason, not for a checklist, just to sit with me. We sat on the porch and watched the fireflies, which is Savannah's version of watching television but better because the programming is written by God and there are no commercials. She said, "Granny, you're going to be fine." I said, "I know." She said, "You don't sound like you know." I said, "I know in my head. My heart is still catching up." She took my hand. We watched the fireflies. The heart caught up a little.

Made Frogmore stew tonight. The summer feast — shrimp, corn, sausage, potatoes, Old Bay, and butter. Spread on newspaper on the table, eaten with hands, the way the Lowcountry has always eaten it. Denise, Robert, Kayla, Devon. Five of us around the newspaper, cracking shrimp and eating corn and laughing about nothing. This is what I'm cooking for. This is what the knee surgery is for. More evenings like this. More newspaper on the table. More shrimp in my hands. More laughter that doesn't need a reason.

Now go on and feed somebody.

The Frogmore stew was its own kind of sermon that night — a reminder that the whole point of a working knee, a stocked freezer, and a red circle on the calendar is getting back to exactly that: shrimp in your hands and people you love around the table. When summer calls for something you can make ahead, spread out, and let everybody dig into without ceremony, this tuna pasta salad answers the same way the newspaper feast did — no fuss, no formality, just good food doing what good food has always done in my house.

Tuna Pasta Salad

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 27 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 12 oz rotini or elbow pasta
• 2 cans (5 oz each) solid white albacore tuna in water, drained
• 1/2 cup mayonnaise
• 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
• 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• 1 cup celery, finely diced (about 3 stalks)
• 1/2 cup red onion, finely diced
• 1/2 cup frozen peas, thawed
• 1/3 cup dill pickle relish
• 1 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
• Salt and black pepper to taste
• 2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped (optional)

Instructions

1. Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Drain, rinse under cold water, and set aside to cool completely.
2. Make the dressing. In a large bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, red wine vinegar, garlic powder, and Old Bay seasoning until smooth.
3. Combine the salad. Add the cooled pasta to the dressing and toss to coat. Fold in the drained tuna, celery, red onion, peas, and pickle relish.
4. Season and chill. Taste and adjust salt and black pepper as needed. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving to allow the flavors to come together.
5. Serve. Give the salad a good stir before serving. Garnish with fresh parsley if desired. Serve cold straight from the bowl.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 390 | Protein: 22g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 46g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 620mg