Colorful Strawberry Arugula Salad

The lilacs are blooming. Gayle has a lilac bush in her front yard that Larry planted in 1985, and it blooms every April without fail, without care, without anyone asking it to. It just blooms. Thirty-four years of blooming. I stopped by Wednesday and the bush was covered in purple clusters and the smell was so strong it hit me from the driveway, and I stood there breathing it in and thinking about Larry on his hands and knees in the dirt, planting this bush, thirty-four years ago, not knowing that it would outlive him, that it would bloom the spring after his death as if nothing had happened, because nothing had happened to the lilac bush. Things happen to people. Bushes just bloom.

I cut a branch and brought it to the kitchen table. The house smelled like lilac all week. Josie said it smells like Grandma's house, and she is right — it smells like Gayle's house, like all the Aprils I spent in that house, like childhood and moth balls and lilac and Folgers coffee. The smell is a time machine and I let it take me.

I made a strawberry rhubarb pie. Not because anyone asked but because rhubarb is in season and Gayle has a rhubarb patch in her backyard and the rhubarb does not care that Larry is dead either, it just grows, red and tart and ready. I made the pie with Gayle's rhubarb and store-bought strawberries and a lattice crust that took forty minutes because lattice is fussy and I am not a fussy person but pie deserves fuss. The pie was tart and sweet and the crust was golden and I brought half of it to Gayle and she ate two slices and said the crust is a little overdone, which means it was perfect.

Short haul week — Grand Island to Lincoln, back the same day. I am grateful for short hauls right now. I want to be home. I want to be near the lilacs and the rhubarb and the people. The road will always be there. The lilacs are temporary. The blooming is now.

I made the strawberry rhubarb pie for Gayle, and it was the right thing to make — but strawberries in April have a way of pulling you in more than one direction. After I got home from dropping off the pie, I still had strawberries left on the counter, bright red and smelling like the season, and I didn’t want to bake anymore. I wanted something simple and alive and quick, something that felt like standing in a driveway breathing in lilac. This salad is that — just the season on a plate, no fuss, no oven, nothing that needs to be watched over.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 10 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

5 oz fresh baby arugula
1 1/2 cups fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
1/4 cup thinly sliced red onion
1/3 cup crumbled goat cheese or feta
1/4 cup candied or toasted pecans
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon honey
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Instructions

Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, honey, and Dijon mustard until emulsified. Season with salt and pepper. Set aside.
Prep the strawberries. Hull and slice the strawberries. If they’re very large, halve the slices so they distribute evenly through the salad.
Assemble the salad. Spread the arugula across a large serving platter or bowl. Arrange the strawberry slices over the top, then scatter the red onion, crumbled cheese, and pecans evenly over everything.
Dress and serve. Drizzle the balsamic dressing over the salad just before serving. Toss gently if desired, or serve undressed and let guests toss their own portions. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Colorful Strawberry Arugula Salad — When the Rhubarb Grows and the Lilacs Bloom