By July. The harbor is blue and the weekends are long and Liam is sixteen months old and has discovered that the world contains bugs, which he finds fascinating and which have become the primary subject of our morning walks. He stops at every ant, every beetle, every earthworm driven up by the rain, and crouches down with the focused attention of a field naturalist cataloguing data. He doesn't try to eat them anymore—we've moved past that phase, mostly—but he watches them and says his word for each one, which is "bug" for everything, undifferentiated. I've been teaching him "ant" and "worm" and "beetle." He says "bug." His taxonomy is broad.
The tomatoes are still green but enormous now—the front plant has eight of them, the back one five, and they hang heavy in the July heat and I check them obsessively and Liam says "mato" with increasing urgency from the window like he too is tracking the timeline and finds it overdue. They are almost ready. The smell when you brush the leaves is summer itself.
Diane left the hospital on Friday after her second cycle. Markers down again. She shook my hand when she left—formal, full handshake, the teacher version of a gesture—and said "you are very good at this job." She said it the way she'd tell a student they'd done the work correctly: earned, specific, and that's all. I've been thinking about it since. You are very good at this job. I am trying to be. Every day I'm trying to be.
The tomatoes aren’t quite there yet —still holding out, still green at the stem —but I’ve been making this fattoush on repeat anyway, because it meets you where you are: whatever is ripe, whatever is ready, whatever you have. I made a big bowl of it the Friday Diane went home, and ate it standing at the counter while Liam napped, and it felt exactly right —quiet and fresh and earned somehow, the mint bright against the back of my throat. When her tomatoes finally do come in, she’ll want this recipe.
Fattoush Salad with Mint Dressing
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 8 min | Total Time: 23 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 large pita rounds, torn into bite-sized pieces
- 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, divided
- 2 cups cherry tomatoes, halved (or 2 medium ripe tomatoes, chopped)
- 1 English cucumber, diced
- 4 radishes, thinly sliced
- 1/2 small red onion, thinly sliced
- 1 cup flat-leaf parsley leaves, roughly chopped
- 1/2 cup fresh mint leaves, roughly chopped
- 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
- 1 small garlic clove, minced
- 1/2 teaspoon ground sumac, plus more for garnish
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
- Toast the pita. Preheat oven to 400°F. Spread torn pita pieces on a baking sheet, drizzle with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil, and sprinkle with 1/4 teaspoon salt. Bake for 7–9 minutes, turning once, until golden and crisp. Set aside to cool.
- Make the mint dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the lemon juice, red wine vinegar, minced garlic, sumac, remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil, remaining 1/4 teaspoon salt, and black pepper. Taste and adjust seasoning.
- Assemble the salad. In a large bowl, combine the tomatoes, cucumber, radishes, red onion, parsley, and mint. Add the toasted pita chips and drizzle the dressing over the top.
- Toss and serve. Toss gently to coat everything in the dressing. Serve immediately so the pita stays crisp —or let it sit 5 minutes if you prefer the bread slightly softened. Finish with an extra pinch of sumac over the top.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 210 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 26g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 340mg