By Father's Day. Third year in Denver. The breakfast-in-bed tradition held: Diego made scrambled eggs that were genuinely excellent — soft, creamy, properly seasoned. Sofia made toast and cut it in triangles, which she has done since she was six and which I have not told her I look forward to specifically. The twins made a card that said "best dad" and drew the Weber kettle grill with smoke coming out of it, which is the image they most associate with me and which I choose to take as a compliment.
Called my father in the morning. He answered on the first ring, which is unusual — usually it takes two or three. I said happy Father's Day. He said, "What took you so long?" It was eight-thirty in the morning. I said, "I was eating breakfast." He said, "Call earlier next time." This is the most affectionate version of how my father answers the phone. I know the code by now.
I grilled for dinner: carne asada for the adults, chicken thighs for the kids, grilled elotes (corn on the cob rolled in mayo and cheese and chile powder) for everyone. Marisol came with Alejandro. She lives in Las Cruces but she was visiting a friend in Denver and she came for dinner, which was something that took planning and felt like something we should do more of. Alejandro is almost three. He walked around the yard saying "hot" near the grill and "more" near the elotes and "Tio Carlos" when he wanted me to pick him up, which I did immediately and without comment every time he asked because I am the kind of uncle who picks up nephews without conditions. He ate half an elote. He ate it very seriously. He looked like his father. I held onto him for an extra minute before I put him down.
The carne asada was gone by the time Marisol and Alejandro left, and the elotes were a memory, and the yard had that particular quiet that comes after a good dinner when the coals have finally gone gray. I didn’t want the day to end in cleanup and dishwater—mdash;I wanted one more thing that felt warm and intentional. The Smoked Turkey Brie and Apple Panini is exactly that: something you press down and wait for, something that smells like it means something, something you can make without firing up the Weber again but that still carries the same spirit. It’s become the quiet second act to our louder summer days.
Smoked Turkey Brie and Apple Panini
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 8 minutes | Total Time: 18 minutes | Servings: 2
Ingredients
- 4 slices sourdough or thick-cut sandwich bread
- 6 oz smoked turkey breast, thinly sliced
- 3 oz brie cheese, rind removed, sliced thin
- 1/2 medium apple (Honeycrisp or Granny Smith), cored and thinly sliced
- 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
- 1 tablespoon honey
- 1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
- Handful of arugula or baby spinach (optional)
- Pinch of black pepper
Instructions
- Mix the spread. In a small bowl, stir together the Dijon mustard and honey until combined. Set aside.
- Build the sandwiches. Lay out all four slices of bread. Spread the honey-Dijon mixture on the inner side of each slice. Layer the smoked turkey evenly on two slices, then top with brie slices, apple slices, and arugula or spinach if using. Add a pinch of black pepper. Close the sandwiches with the remaining bread slices, pressing gently.
- Butter the outside. Spread the softened butter evenly on both outer sides of each sandwich. This is what gives the panini its golden crust.
- Press and cook. Heat a panini press or a cast-iron skillet over medium heat. If using a skillet, place a heavy pan on top of the sandwiches to press them. Cook for 3–4 minutes per side, until the bread is deep golden and the brie is fully melted.
- Rest and slice. Remove from heat and let the sandwiches rest for 1 minute before cutting diagonally. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 520 | Protein: 32g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 48g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 980mg