Raspberry Vinaigrette

The hot crossings of the Coastal Trail. The mountains still snow-capped. Three twelve-hour shifts this week. The body holding.

Lourdes is 76. She is slower. She still cooks. She still tells me to find a husband even though I have one. Angela came over Saturday with the kids. We cooked. We argued about pancit proportions — she uses more soy, I use more calamansi. We are both wrong, according to Lourdes.

I made sinigang Sunday. The sour was the right register for the body this week. The tamarind was sharp.

The blog post on sinigang got picked up by a Filipino-American newsletter. Traffic doubled for two days. The traffic was the surprise.

I called Lourdes Sunday night. The call was the call. The call was always the call.

The break room had cake Tuesday. Someone's birthday. We ate the cake. We did not ask whose birthday. The cake was the cake.

Lourdes called me twice this week. The first call was about a church event. The second was about a recipe variation she had remembered from her childhood. The remembering was the gift.

The Filipino Community newsletter announced a fundraiser for typhoon relief in Samar. I committed to making three hundred lumpia. The number is the number. The number has always been the number. Three hundred is what I make. The math has stopped surprising me.

I made coffee at six AM. The coffee was the start. The start was always the same.

I drove the Glenn Highway out to Eklutna on Saturday. The mountains were the mountains. The lake was the lake. The body needed the open road. The open road did its work.

The neighbors invited us over for a small dinner Thursday. They are an Iñupiaq family — Aana and her grandson Joe. We ate caribou stew and rice. I brought lumpia. The kitchens of Anchorage have always been the small UN. The food is the proof.

I had a long phone call with Dr. Reeves on Wednesday. We talked about pacing and rest and the way the body keeps a log of what it has carried. Dr. Reeves said, "Grace. The body remembers. The mind forgets. The cooking is the bridge." I wrote the line down. The line is now on a sticky note above the kitchen sink.

The salmon in the freezer is from August. Joseph's catch. The bag is labeled in his handwriting — "for Grace." I will use it next week.

I drove home Tuesday evening and the sun set at three forty-five and the highway was already iced at the bridges and the radio was on a station I did not recognize and I did not change it.

I checked email at the kitchen table while the rice cooked. There were one hundred and twenty unread messages. I closed the laptop. The unread can wait.

A reader from New Jersey wrote in about her grandmother's adobo, which used pineapple. I had never heard of pineapple in adobo. I tried it. It was strange. It was also good. The strange and the good are not opposites.

Auntie Norma called Sunday to ask if I had a recipe for a particular merienda from Iloilo. I did not. I said I would ask Lourdes. I asked Lourdes. Lourdes had it. The chain.

I sat on the balcony in the cold for ten minutes Sunday night with a cup of broth in my hands. The cold was the cold. The broth was the broth. The body held both.

The Filipino Community newsletter announced the Saturday gathering. I will be on lumpia duty. I am always on lumpia duty.

The sinigang was the anchor this week — the tamarind doing what tamarind does, cutting through the heaviness the body had been carrying since Monday. But not every night has time for a full pot of sour broth, and what I keep coming back to is that the sour itself is what I needed: bright, sharp, something that wakes the tongue up and reminds you that you are still here. This raspberry vinaigrette lives in that same register. It takes five minutes, it goes on whatever greens you have left in the crisper at the end of a long week, and the tartness does its small work. Lourdes would probably tell me to add more garlic. She would be right.

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1/2 cup fresh or frozen raspberries, thawed
3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon honey
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 small clove garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 cup olive oil

Instructions

Blend the base. Combine the raspberries, red wine vinegar, honey, Dijon mustard, garlic, salt, and pepper in a blender or food processor. Blend until smooth, about 30 seconds.
Strain (optional). For a smoother dressing, press the blended mixture through a fine mesh strainer to remove the raspberry seeds. Skip this step if you don’t mind the texture.
Emulsify. With the blender running on low, slowly drizzle in the olive oil in a thin, steady stream until the dressing is fully combined and slightly thickened.
Taste and adjust. Taste the vinaigrette and adjust seasoning — add more honey for sweetness, more vinegar for sharpness, or more salt as needed.
Store. Transfer to a jar with a tight-fitting lid. Refrigerate for up to one week. Shake well before each use.

Nutrition (per serving)

Raspberry Vinaigrette — The Sour That Carries the Week