Grilled Summer Vegetable Salad

One week. Seven days. I'm trying not to count but the count is automatic, like breathing or blinking or the way my back hurts when I bend wrong. The count happens whether I want it to or not. Seven. Six. Five.

Fourth of July this year was quiet. No big cookout. Just us. I smoked ribs because it's tradition and because stopping tradition would be an admission that something has changed, and I'm not admitting anything. I'm making ribs on the Fourth of July because that's what I do and that's what I'll do next year and the year after that, whether Clay is in the backyard or in a forward operating base in a country whose name I can't pronounce.

Clay ate ribs and corn and coleslaw and watermelon and was present in a way that he hasn't been all year. Not distracted. Not on his phone. Not watching military videos. Just here, in the backyard, eating ribs, looking at the sky. I think he's memorizing it. I think he's storing this — the backyard, the grill, the smoke, the taste, the sound of his mother laughing at something Travis said — in whatever place young men store the things they need when the world gets dark. I stored Betty's fried chicken in that place. It kept me alive in the mine for seventeen hours. Maybe the ribs will keep Clay alive wherever he goes.

Travis came over. Jolene brought watermelon — the good kind, seeded, from a farm stand on the Richmond road. We cut it on the patio and ate it with our hands and let the juice run down our arms because watermelon is not a dignified food and dignity is overrated on the Fourth of July. Clay had a seed-spitting contest with Tyler, who came by. Tyler won. Clay demanded a recount. There is no recount procedure for seed-spitting. The protest was denied.

At dark, we watched fireworks from the backyard. The Keeneland show, visible over the rooftops. Clay stood on the patio with his head tilted back, watching the sky explode in red and white and blue, and I stood behind him and watched him watch and thought: this is the last Fourth of July. Not the last ever — the last before. Before the uniform, before the deployment, before Clay becomes the thing the fireworks celebrate. Next year the fireworks will mean something different. Next year they'll mean my son.

I’m going to keep making this salad every Fourth of July — alongside the ribs, alongside the watermelon, alongside whatever traditions I can hold onto. It came together while the ribs were resting and Clay was out back throwing a football with Tyler, and it tasted exactly like that afternoon feels when I replay it: smoky from the grill, a little bright, a little sharp, gone too fast. If you’ve got a grill going and people worth feeding, this is the thing to make with the heat that’s already there.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 medium zucchini, sliced lengthwise into 1/2-inch planks
2 ears fresh corn, husked
1 large red bell pepper, halved and seeded
1 medium red onion, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 teaspoon kosher salt, divided
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 small garlic clove, minced
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese (optional)

Instructions

Heat the grill. Preheat your gas or charcoal grill to medium-high heat, about 400—450°F. Clean and oil the grates.
Season the vegetables. Brush the zucchini, corn, red bell pepper, and red onion rounds with 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Season with 3/4 teaspoon of the salt and all of the black pepper.
Grill in batches. Place the corn and bell pepper on the grill first; cook the corn, turning occasionally, for 10—12 minutes until charred in spots. Grill the bell pepper, cut side down, for 6—8 minutes until softened and charred. Grill the zucchini and onion rounds for 3—4 minutes per side until tender with clear grill marks.
Rest and cut. Transfer all grilled vegetables to a cutting board and let them cool for 5 minutes. Cut the corn kernels off the cob, roughly chop the bell pepper, and cut the zucchini into bite-sized pieces. Leave the onion rounds whole or separate into rings.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the balsamic vinegar, Dijon mustard, minced garlic, remaining 1 tablespoon of olive oil, and remaining 1/4 teaspoon of salt until emulsified.
Assemble and toss. Combine the grilled vegetables and halved cherry tomatoes in a large serving bowl. Drizzle with the dressing and toss gently to coat. Scatter torn basil and feta (if using) over the top.
Serve. Serve warm or at room temperature. This salad holds well on the table for an hour, making it ideal for cookouts where people graze.

Nutrition (per serving)

Grilled Summer Vegetable Salad — The Side Dish That Belongs at Every Last Cookout