Spring in the desert is subtle. You don't notice it the way people in other climates notice it — no snow melting, no leaves budding, no dramatic thaw. What happens is this: the mornings go from cool to warm. The wildflowers start appearing in the washes and on the hillsides — poppies, lupines, brittlebush, all in electric oranges and purples that look photoshopped against the brown dirt. The saguaros start to bloom, white flowers at the top like crowns. And the light changes — it gets softer, more golden, the kind of light that makes the mountains glow pink at sunset. Spring in Phoenix is earned. You survive the summer, you endure the fall, and the desert rewards you with this.
I took Sofia to the Desert Botanical Garden this week — just the two of us, a daddy-daughter outing that Jessica encouraged because she was napping on the couch (first trimester, chapter six: the nap that never ends). Sofia walked the paths holding my hand and stopped at every cactus and said "prickly" which is her new favorite word and which she applies to cacti, hedgehogs in her picture books, and my beard when I haven't shaved. She is not wrong about any of these things.
We saw the wildflower exhibit and Sofia was enchanted in the quiet, solemn way that children sometimes are when they encounter beauty they don't have words for. She stood in front of a hillside of orange poppies and just... looked. For two minutes. Two minutes of silence from a two-year-old is approximately six hours in adult time. I knelt next to her and we looked together, and I thought about the fact that in seven months there will be another child here, another set of eyes seeing this for the first time, and my heart did something I don't have the vocabulary to describe.
At home, I made spring food: grilled shrimp with a mango salsa. The shrimp marinated in lime juice, garlic, cumin, and a little honey, then grilled over high heat for two minutes per side. The mango salsa — diced mango, red onion, jalapeño, cilantro, lime juice — was bright and sweet and exactly what you want when the desert starts warming up and heavy food feels wrong. Jessica ate it from the couch, still in her nap clothes, and said "this is amazing" and then fell asleep with the plate on her lap, which I consider the ultimate compliment: food so good it accompanies you into sleep.
One more week until the anniversary of the blog. One year of writing about fire and food and family. It feels like both forever and no time at all, which is how everything feels when you're living a full life. Here's to the next year. Here's to the new baby. Here's to the grill, the smoke, the table, and the people who sit around it. Just show up. That's all you have to do. Just show up.
That week felt like a culmination — the end of a year, the nearness of a new baby, Jessica asleep on the couch with a plate on her lap — and I wanted the recipe I shared to carry some of that same warmth and simplicity. Grilled coleslaw isn’t fancy, but it’s the kind of thing that makes people lean forward and ask “wait, how did you do that?” — a little fire turning something ordinary into something you remember. Here’s how I made it.
Grilled Coleslaw
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 8 min | Total Time: 18 min | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 1 small head green cabbage, cut into 4 wedges through the core
- 1/2 small red cabbage, cut into 2 wedges through the core
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 3 tablespoons mayonnaise
- 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice (about 1 lime)
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- 2 green onions, thinly sliced
- 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves, roughly chopped
- 1 jalapeño, seeded and minced (optional)
Instructions
- Heat the grill. Preheat a gas or charcoal grill to high heat, around 450°F. Clean and oil the grates well so the cabbage doesn’t stick.
- Prep the cabbage. Brush all cut sides of the cabbage wedges with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Keep the core intact — it holds the wedges together on the grill.
- Grill the cabbage. Place wedges cut-side down on the grill. Cook for 3–4 minutes per cut side until you have deep char marks and the edges are just beginning to wilt. The cabbage should still have some crunch at the center. Remove from the grill and let cool for 5 minutes.
- Make the dressing. While the cabbage cools, whisk together the mayonnaise, lime juice, honey, cumin, and garlic powder in a small bowl until smooth. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
- Slice and toss. Remove the core from each wedge and thinly slice the grilled cabbage crosswise. Transfer to a large bowl. Add the green onions, cilantro, and jalapeño if using.
- Dress and serve. Drizzle the dressing over the slaw and toss gently to combine. Serve immediately while the cabbage is still slightly warm, alongside grilled shrimp or any grilled protein.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 145 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 13g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 320mg