Here, Taste This : Thai Quinoa Salad with Peanut Lime Dressing

If I had to give this summer a theme, it would be - Just Go With It.

If not observing strict bedtimes makes your evenings stress-free, just go with it.

If watching "Days of our Lives" every night while you clean the kitchen brings you an odd sort of comforting joy, just go with it. (EJ DiMera is in prison, Sami is on a rampage, John Black is in a coma, Hope's eyebrows still shoot sky-high at the end of every scene she's in. All is as it should be in Salem. It makes me strangely happy.)

If staying off social media is a breath of fresh air, just go with it.

And if you discover a salad you like so much, you make it every week, just go with it. Variety is over-rated anyway, right?

We first met, the salad and I, at a friend's house back in March. I was smitten with the first bite: nutty quinoa, crunchy cabbage and peppers, bits of carrots and red onion and cilantro and peanuts - held together with a Thai-inspired dressing that is the perfect blend of natural peanut butter, ginger, honey, soy sauce and lime juice. It bursts with color, texture and oh-my-word-you-have-to-smell-this aroma. It's the kind of salad that pairs perfectly with grilled chicken or, my favorite, spicy shrimp. Or you can just eat it for lunch every day for the entire summer. Like you do.

Just go with it.


Thai Quinoa Salad with Peanut Lime Dressing

3/4 cup uncooked quinoa
2 cups chopped red cabbage
1 red bell pepper, diced
1/4 red onion, diced
1 cup shredded carrots
1/2 cup peanuts
1/2 cup chopped cilantro
1/4 cup diced chives

Dressing:
1/4 cup natural peanut butter
2 tsp fresh grated ginger
3 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tsp sesame oil
1 tsp olive oil
juice of 1 lime

Directions:
1. Rinse quinoa with cold water in a mesh strainer until water runs clear. This removes the bitterness sometimes associated with quinoa. In a medium saucepan, boil 1-1/2 cups water. Add in quinoa and return mixture to a boil. Cover, reduce heat to low and let it simmer for 15 minutes or so, until quinoa has absorbed all the water. Remove from heat and fluff with a fork. Place in a large bowl and set aside to cool. (Note: This should result in about 2 cups of quinoa.)
2. Make the dressing. Mix peanut butter and honey in a microwave safe-bowl and heat in microwave for 30 seconds, so they will be easier to combine. Add in ginger, soy sauce, vinegar, the oils and the lime juice. Stir until mixture is smooth and creamy.
3. Add dressing to quinoa. Stir to combine.
4. Fold in the cabbage, red pepper, onion, carrots, peanuts, cilantro and chives. Garnish with extra peanuts, chives and lime slices, if desired. Serve chilled or at room temperature.

Tips:
1. Hello Salad Adaptable. Do you have cashews in your cupboard instead of peanuts? Sub 'em in. Want to try honey-roasted peanuts in place of the naked version? Do it. Want to skip the cilantro because it makes you gag? Sigh. If you have to.
2. Go make this. Right now. That is my biggest tip.

The Parenting Fog


I call it The Parenting Fog.

It's easy to slip into, especially in the summer. We get home from a camping trip, we finish up a week of VBS, the relatives leave after a fun visit - and everyone collapses. Fun plus exhaustion plus emotional hyperactivity minus sleep minus vegetables equals a deflated balloon of a person. So everyone retreats to their own corners.

In my house, that means the big kids ingest hefty doses of screens. Connor plays Minecraft eight hours a day, Natalie watches equal amounts of "Good Luck Charlie." The little kids split their time between Netflix and playing "school" which involves getting out every type of toy we own and putting one of each kind into a backpack to shlep around their bedrooms. And me? I stare at Facebook and various news websites for hours on end.

In the back of our little brains, the whole engine is going "chug, chug, chug, put this memory over there, chug, chug, file this big thought, chug, chug, do that better next time, chug, chug."

I maintain it's a necessary and even healthy stage of summer survival.

The only problem is: like a bad houseguest, it tends to overstay its visit.

I know this, because last Wednesday - after two weeks of family visiting us plus Fourth of July celebrations plus a week of VBS plus Corey leaving for North Korea the same day the last family members flew home - I entered that stage. I descended blissfully, I'll have you know. "Have at the screens, kids," I mumbled before sitting at my desk with Facebook open. The fog enveloped me like a blanket, and I sighed with pleasure at the nothingness.

But by Saturday, the sun was breaking through. The fog started to dissolve a little. I could make out shapes. What is that - a child? He's hungry? Bizarre. Do I have children? What day is it?

And slowly, ever so slowly, I felt strength and determination return.

That is the moment I decided - hey, this mothering gig. I'm not doing a great job at it - unless you count throwing cheese sticks and granola bars at the fog shapes and calling it a day. Maybe I could get off my arse, put limits on screen time and actually BE with my children.

Novel, no?

So Monday, I started over. I parented with intentionality again. I made breakfast for my kids and listened to their stories, instead of retreating with my coffee to my desk. ("I wonder if anyone on Facebook has posted something in the last five minutes?") I made plans to get out of the house. We spent an afternoon at the park on the beach. We dug holes in the sand and ate chips under the trees and marveled at the fall-like temperatures. We took Teyla to gymnastics lessons and instead of pulling out the phone, Kieran and I played tag and catch and let's see who can hit the wall harder. We went to the final baseball games of the season and cheered Connor and his team and basked in the just-warm-enough sunshine and gaped at the best summer sunsets.

It only took a few days for me to remember - oh yeah, I actually like this parenting gig. It's hard and at times it's tedious and at times it's maddening. But it's summer and I don't want to waste one glorious golden moment with the people I love.

Bring on the second half of the best season, I say. Here comes the sun. And it always brings grace with it.