By Monday, June 18th. Classroom walk-through. Mrs. Dominguez met me at the front door and walked me through the building — the main office, the art room, the speech therapy room, the resource room. Then she took me to Room 108. It is at the end of a hallway, quieter than the front of the building, with two windows that look out onto the school garden. The windows face east, which means morning light — Babcia Rose's rule: you need a window to cook properly. I stood in the middle of the room and looked at the windows and thought: yes.
The room was empty except for the furniture — eight low desks in clusters, a sensory corner with a small tent that the previous teacher had left, a whiteboard and a corkboard and shelves along one wall. It smelled like floor wax and the particular dry-air smell of a school in summer. I walked around it slowly. I stood at the whiteboard. I sat in one of the student chairs to see the room from their height. The windows, the east light, the garden outside. This is the room. These are the conditions. August is eight weeks away.
Drove home through Pilsen in the bright afternoon and stopped at the taqueria for a celebratory al pastor taco and then stopped at the Saturday market that was still going at three PM and bought tomatoes and corn and zucchini and walked home with everything in a canvas bag. Made a summer ratatouille-style bake: zucchini and tomatoes and onion and garlic layered in the Dutch oven, olive oil and herbs, baked covered for forty-five minutes. Under three dollars.
Ate it for dinner over rice with a fried egg on top — the egg on top is from a blog I read that recommends it for everything and is completely right. The cast iron for the egg, the Dutch oven for the vegetables, the whole thing assembled in thirty minutes. My kitchen. My food. My classroom in eight weeks. I sat by the open window and ate slowly and looked at the street and thought: I am ready. I think I have been ready for a long time.
That evening called for something that honored what the garden outside Room 108’s windows had started in me — something fresh, something with tomatoes still warm from the Saturday market. The ratatouille bake was the celebration, but this Fresh Caprese Quinoa Salad is the recipe I keep coming back to when I want to hold onto that feeling: summer vegetables, good olive oil, the kind of meal that asks nothing difficult of you and gives a great deal back. It’s the dish I’ll make again on the first day of August, when the countdown finally hits zero.
Fresh Caprese Quinoa Salad
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 cup dry quinoa, rinsed
- 2 cups water or vegetable broth
- 1 1/2 cups cherry tomatoes, halved
- 8 oz fresh mozzarella, cut into bite-sized pieces
- 1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
- 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
- 1 1/2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
- 1 clove garlic, minced
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Instructions
- Cook the quinoa. Combine the rinsed quinoa and water (or broth) in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 12–15 minutes until the liquid is absorbed and the quinoa is fluffy. Remove from heat and let sit, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff with a fork and allow to cool slightly.
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, minced garlic, salt, and pepper until well combined.
- Combine the salad. Transfer the warm quinoa to a large bowl. Add the cherry tomatoes and fresh mozzarella. Pour the dressing over the top and toss gently to coat everything evenly.
- Finish with basil. Fold in the torn fresh basil leaves. Taste and adjust salt and pepper as needed.
- Serve. Serve warm, at room temperature, or chilled. This salad keeps well in the refrigerator for up to 3 days — the flavors deepen overnight.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 390 | Protein: 17g | Fat: 20g | Carbs: 36g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 310mg