Berry Spinach Salad

Independence Day in the pandemic's summer, and the fireworks were cancelled — the official ones, the city ones — but the neighborhood ones were not, and the sky over the historic district bloomed with unsanctioned color while we sat on the piazza and watched the unauthorized celebration with the particular pleasure of people who are alive and together and who consider being alive and together to be, this year, a sufficient firework.

James is spending the summer at home — no internship this year, the pandemic having cancelled the summer plans of every law student in the country. He is reading instead — not casually but systematically, working through a list of books that his constitutional law professor recommended, and the list is long and the reading is deep and the deepness is visible in his face, which has the focused stillness of a man who is building a mind and who knows that the building takes time and books and the willingness to sit in a chair and not move until the chapter is done.

Robert made his first major retirement project: a garden bench. Cedar, joined by hand, sized for two people who want to sit in the garden and watch things grow. He placed it under the live oak on Saturday and invited Mama to sit, and she sat, and Robert sat beside her, and the two of them looked at the garden together, and the looking was the most peaceful thing I have seen in this house in months — two people, a bench, a garden, and the particular silence that grows between people who have been married for twenty-three years and who no longer need words to fill the space between them.

The library is reopening on a limited basis — masks required, capacity limited, no events. I will return to work on Monday for the first time since March, and the returning is both relief and anxiety — relief to be in the building I love, anxiety to leave Mama for eight hours. Ruth will be here. Robert will be here. The here-ness is sufficient. The sufficiency is the trust, and the trust is the bridge I walk across every morning when I leave the house and drive to work and trust that the people inside will be there when I return.

I made ambrosia for the Fourth — the same ridiculous, sweet, marshmallow-and-coconut confection that I make every year, the one that Mama calls "correct" and that food writers call "retro" and that Joy calls "more." The ambrosia was made for five and eaten by four, because Joy was not here, and the not-here-ness was the only wrong thing about an otherwise right evening on the piazza under the unauthorized fireworks.

The ambrosia was always going to be there — it is as fixed to our Fourth of July as the date itself — but this year I wanted something alongside it that felt as alive and bright as the unauthorized fireworks over the historic district: something fresh and jewel-toned and summery, the kind of dish that looks like a celebration without trying. This Berry Spinach Salad has been on our piazza table before, and it earned its place there again — made for five, eaten by four, and every bite of it tasted like the particular sweetness of an evening that is almost right.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

6 cups fresh baby spinach, washed and dried
1 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
1 cup fresh blueberries
1/2 cup fresh raspberries
1/3 cup crumbled feta cheese
1/4 cup sliced almonds, toasted
1/4 small red onion, very thinly sliced
For the dressing:
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Instructions

Toast the almonds. In a small dry skillet over medium heat, toast the sliced almonds for 2—3 minutes, stirring frequently, until fragrant and lightly golden. Remove from heat and let cool completely.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, honey, and Dijon mustard until well combined. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.
Assemble the salad. Place the baby spinach in a large serving bowl. Arrange the strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries over the top. Scatter the red onion slices across the berries.
Add toppings. Sprinkle the crumbled feta and toasted almonds evenly over the salad.
Dress and serve. Drizzle the dressing over the salad just before serving and toss gently to coat, or serve the dressing on the side so the spinach stays crisp. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Berry Spinach Salad — The Sweet, Bright Thing We Made for Four