By The response to the Salina essay continued into the second week. Fourteen hundred comments on RecipeSpinoff and a request from a grief journal based in Denver to republish it in their fall issue. I said yes. The essay went to Billings and Denver and several email chains I've been copied on where people sent it to each other with notes like: this is the one. These things happen in writing sometimes — a piece that was private becomes public in a way that changes who it's for without changing what it is. I've been watching that happen with some wonder.
Second haying is coming. The alfalfa in the lower field is heading, the timothy approaching. I'll start next week if the weather holds. Dad asked about the forecast on Sunday while we were walking the fence line. The walk is shorter than it used to be — we do the east section and the creek side but leave the north section to me on my own, which has been the arrangement for two years. He asked the right questions about the fence sections. The knowledge is there. The range has adjusted.
Cole called Thursday — Emma was having a good week, the pregnancy was progressing normally. He's been slowing his account load in preparation for October, which is the right call. I'll cover his accounts for the two weeks after the birth. He doesn't know I've already rearranged my schedule for this. I'll tell him when it's closer.
Made cold noodles again — the soba with sesame dressing that I tried for the first time in 2020 and have been making every summer since. Some dishes arrive in your kitchen and stay. The cold bitterness of the soba and the sesame paste and the cucumber from the garden, eaten at the kitchen table at noon when the temperature outside is ninety. July food.
The soba has become the noon meal of July, but the garden keeps giving past what any single dish can use. The cucumber goes into the noodles, and the asparagus—more than I expected this year—goes into jars. Pickling is the other side of that same impulse: you make something while it’s there, you put it away, and later it’s still good. That feels like the right kind of work for a week when the essay went farther than I expected and the fences got walked and Cole’s news came in quiet and steady. Some things you prepare ahead of time without announcing it.
Pickled Asparagus
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 5 min | Total Time: 20 min (plus 24 hr chill) | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1 lb fresh asparagus, woody ends trimmed
- 1 cup white distilled vinegar
- 1 cup water
- 1 tbsp kosher salt
- 1 tsp sugar
- 3 garlic cloves, smashed
- 1 tsp red pepper flakes
- 1 tsp whole black peppercorns
- 1 tsp mustard seeds
- 1 tsp dried dill (or 2 sprigs fresh dill)
Instructions
- Prepare the jars. Wash two pint-sized mason jars with hot soapy water and rinse well. Set aside to air dry.
- Trim the asparagus. Cut asparagus spears to fit upright in your jars, leaving about 1/2 inch of headspace. If spears are thick, halve them lengthwise.
- Make the brine. Combine vinegar, water, salt, and sugar in a small saucepan over medium heat. Stir until salt and sugar dissolve completely, about 3–4 minutes. Remove from heat.
- Pack the jars. Divide garlic, red pepper flakes, peppercorns, mustard seeds, and dill evenly between the two jars. Pack the asparagus spears in tightly, tips pointing up.
- Add the brine. Pour the hot brine over the asparagus, covering the spears completely and leaving 1/2 inch headspace. Tap jars gently on the counter to release air bubbles.
- Seal and cool. Wipe jar rims clean, seal with lids, and let cool to room temperature on the counter.
- Refrigerate. Once cool, refrigerate for at least 24 hours before eating. Flavor improves significantly after 48–72 hours. Keeps refrigerated for up to 3 weeks.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 20 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 3g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 620mg