Honey Mustard Brussels Sprout Slaw

Memorial Day weekend. I don't talk much about the military — that's Clay's future, not my past, though I don't know that yet — but I think about the men from Harlan County who didn't come home. Evarts had a memorial wall outside the post office with names going back to World War I. Coal miners' sons who traded one underground for another, who went from the darkness of the mines to the darkness of trenches and jungles and deserts. Harlan County has always given more than its share to the military because Harlan County has always had more poor boys than options.

We went to Travis's apartment for a cookout on Saturday. Travis has a small patio behind his first-floor unit, barely big enough for a grill and two chairs, and he set up a charcoal grill and invited us over. Travis doesn't cook much — he's twenty-two and survives mostly on gas station food and whatever Jolene from work brings — but he grills. Grilling is the entry point for men who think they don't cook. You stand outside, you control fire, you produce meat. It doesn't feel like cooking. It feels like a primitive skill, which it is, and that makes it acceptable to men who were raised to think kitchens are women's territory.

I brought the burger patties. Travis provided the charcoal and the buns and a bag of chips. Clay brought himself and his appetite, which is roughly equivalent to bringing a third of the guests. Connie brought a bowl of her potato salad, which I need to talk about because Connie's potato salad is one of the three things she makes that are better than Betty's, and I will deny saying this if asked directly.

Connie's potato salad: boil red potatoes until just tender — not falling apart, just fork-tender. Cut them into chunks while they're still warm. Add chopped celery, diced onion, three hard-boiled eggs chopped up, and enough mayonnaise to bind it (Duke's mayonnaise, not Miracle Whip, not Hellmann's — Duke's, this is non-negotiable in the South). Then the secret: a splash of yellow mustard and a spoonful of sweet pickle relish. Salt, pepper. Let it sit in the fridge for at least two hours so the flavors marry. Connie's potato salad is tangy and creamy and everything you want on a paper plate next to a hamburger on a Saturday afternoon.

Travis grilled the burgers — I made the patties with ground chuck (80/20, never leaner), salt, pepper, a little Worcestershire sauce worked into the meat. He cooked them about four minutes per side over medium-high heat. They were good. Not great — Travis needs to stop pressing them with the spatula, which squeezes out all the juice, and I've told him this forty times and he does it anyway because twenty-two-year-old men believe they know things. But the burgers were decent and the company was good and the sun was warm and for one afternoon, it felt like summer was a promise the world was going to keep.

My back is better. Not good. Better. I went back to full duty on Wednesday and only thought about quitting twice, which is an improvement over last week. Connie asked if I'd called the doctor. I said I would. I won't. We both know this. The dance continues.

Connie’s potato salad was the real star of that afternoon, and I’ll go to my grave saying so—even if I’ll deny it to her face. But if you don’t have two hours to let a potato salad marry in the refrigerator, or if you want something a little lighter alongside your burger on a hot Saturday patio, this Honey Mustard Brussels Sprout Slaw hits the same tangy, creamy notes that made Connie’s version legendary. The mustard does the same work here that it does in her bowl—cuts through the richness, wakes everything up—and you don’t even have to boil anything.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes (plus 30 minutes chilling) | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 lb Brussels sprouts, trimmed and shredded thin (or one 12-oz bag pre-shredded)
1 cup shredded red cabbage
2 medium carrots, peeled and shredded
3 green onions, sliced thin
1/3 cup mayonnaise (Duke’s if you’re doing this right)
2 tablespoons Dijon or yellow mustard
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
1/4 cup roasted sunflower seeds or chopped pecans (optional, for crunch)

Instructions

Shred the sprouts. Trim the stem end off each Brussels sprout and slice them as thin as you can with a sharp knife, or pulse in a food processor. You want fine shreds, not chunks.
Combine the vegetables. In a large bowl, toss together the shredded Brussels sprouts, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and green onions until evenly mixed.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, mustard, honey, apple cider vinegar, and garlic powder until smooth. Taste it—it should be tangy and a little sweet. Adjust with more honey or vinegar as needed.
Dress the slaw. Pour the dressing over the vegetable mixture and toss thoroughly until everything is evenly coated. Season with salt and pepper.
Chill before serving. Cover and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. The Brussels sprouts will soften slightly and the flavors will come together. Stir once more before serving.
Finish and serve. Top with sunflower seeds or pecans just before serving if you want the crunch. Serve cold alongside burgers, grilled chicken, or anything coming off a charcoal grill.

Nutrition (per serving)

Honey Mustard Brussels Sprout Slaw — The Side Dish Connie Would've Brought If She Was Feeling Adventurous