Power to the Salad

It’s watermelon juice weather – that’s how summery this week has been.  You know I hate waste, Eaters, and watermelon juice is the perfect destination for that melon in your fridge with decent flavor but spongy texture.  Throw it in the food processor with a dash of salt and the juice of one lime.  As my youngest said, after a sip, “It isn’t sweet but it really cools you down.”

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The other day my husband returned from a five hour cycling spree, sticky with fatigue and looking famished.  He is exceedingly broadminded about what constitutes a good dinner, (and a good wife) but I didn’t think I could sell him on watermelon juice as a main course.  After that much exertion, what does every man crave?  Yes, that’s right!  Power Salad!  If there’s anything I know ladies, it’s MEN. In fact, I fancy myself a bit of an expert.  To the enduring question, “What do men want?” there can only be one resounding answer: SALADS!  The grainier the better.
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I intended to make this with quinoa but I misplaced the container.  It resurfaced eventually, under a pastry bag, but too late!  I had already used rice.  There was a cob of corn skulking around the fridge, looking undignified, so I sliced the kernels in.  I added the leftover black beans and a bit of grated cheddar (the day after taco night is ideal for salads).  Since chives burst forth in my yard in merry abundance, I chopped some in, along with parsley.  Cilantro would have been a more obvious choice, but it is difficult to grow here since it goes instantly to seed.  Apparently we have too many hours of daylight during our growing season.  These bright, lengthy days are a compensation for the months of steel gray we endure.  It’s feast or famine, weather-wise.

I chopped some tender celery hearts and leaves into the rice and placed my hearty salad on the center of the counter, surrounded by lettuces and a variety of salad toppings.  I left this for my family, since I was headed out to meet friends at Chipotle.  As I ducked out the door, my husband was neck deep in the freezer, excavating madly, mumbling something about chicken sausage.  I blew him a kiss.  I must have misheard.

marycake

 

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2 thoughts on “Power to the Salad

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