Crunchy Apple, Fennel, and Grains Salad

“My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four.  Unless there are three other people”   ~ Orson Welles

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I really look forward to the couple of days out of the week that I give my daughter a ride to work.  A few minutes, just the two of us, to catch up.  It's fun to hear what she's thinking about and how she's approaching her life, now that she has a little one of her own.

“Now that I'm a mom, I want to have dinner as a family as much as we can.  Growing up, I wish we would've done it more often.”

Alas

It's often said that families are created around the dinner table.  That it's the most important hour of the day.  The time we need to pause, say a prayer, and eat potatoes together, night after night, without fail; no matter what.

Forever and ever.  Amen

Dinner time is sacred; it will make you a family, it's been written

Certainly, it can be sacred.  Certainly, it can be part of what makes you a family. But I'm not convinced either of these things happen because of the hour, .or if the dishes match, or what's being served

I've come to believe it's sacred and will make you a better family if, and only if, one chooses to see it that way

My childhood was delineated, in part, by the farming crisis of the 1980s.

In the early years, growing up on our family's farm in northwestern Iowa, there was a predictable flow to our evenings.  In the summer and winter months, after the chores were finished, we'd sit down together for meals made from recipes of friends and neighbors, gathered together in well-worn church cookbooks

Casseroles, pot-roasts, and dessert salads.

During planting or harvest season, dinner was sandwiches eaten brown-bag-style, in the cab of the tractor or combine.  At dusk, my brother and I headed off to the fields on our three-wheeler.  Special delivery to my father and grandfather while they worked, well into the night.

Then came the farming crisis.  The season my parents decided to go back to school, and pursue their college degrees (brave!)  Between parents with days full of work and school, and two busy teenagers,  family dinners were far

from the norm

None of us thought about it much.  We knew the Schwan's man by name, warmed burritos from the freezer, cooked noodles on the stove and covered them with cheese, opened the peanut butter jar and made cinnamon toast

Some days, we'd forget the sacred, the togetherness.  We'd focus on the homework, the mess, the dishes, the everyday

But on others, the ones my father would break out the Aunt Jemima and boysenberry syrup, or my Granny would be visiting, and in the kitchen making cabbage rolls.  Those still make me smile

When I became a mom of my own, I remember feeling exactly the way she does today.  That I so badly wanted to do everything right, and the only way family dinner should be done is around the kitchen table, over meat and vegetables at 6 pm.

Please pass the salt

But now, I know better

To the mother with a car full of hungry kids navigating the drive-through. #7 no mayo, #4 hold the meat + lots of tomatoes, #10 with the works.  Is that everything?  Probably not, but it'll be good enough.  Sacred mealtime, you're making a family

To the weary father in the middle of the night, re-heating last night's meatloaf while warming the baby's bottle.  Sacred mealtime, you're making a family

To the grandparents at the park with your grandchild.  Animal crackers and apple juice shared on a bench.  Sacred mealtime, you're making a family

To the college student eating a bologna sandwich at the library.  Sacred mealtime

To the puppies who wait at your feet to QA those eggs, or pancakes, or cheese slices.  Sacred mealtime, you're making a family

To the ones we love, to those we don't understand; to those, we're glad we left the door open to.  Sacred mealtime, we're making a family

To those, we keep showing up for, even if the gesture isn't recognized or returned.  Sacred mealtime, we're making a family

To those, we keep frying eggs for, keep wiping crumbs from, keep passing the salt to, keep refilling wine for, keep spreading love and patience and apple butter to

Sacred mealtime, we're making a family

We're lucky enough to have a talented neighbor who's known for many things, including her love of interesting salads, and this is no exception — her addition to last month's Spaghetti Saturday.

As a whole, the salad is absolutely wonderful.  Fennel and apple are such great partners, brightened by the vinaigrette.  Refreshing, crispy, crunchy, and light.  It's a salad that brings color and happiness to any meal.

A note about the grains: in her original, she cooked the grains before adding them.

Here, taking a queue from Cooking Light, I've included the frying step. They're easy to make, and on their own, the crunchy spelt tasted a bit like unpopped popcorn kernels.  Fried, they have a nutty flavor and become incredibly crisp.

Once incorporated into the salad, they're transformative — the addition of the perfect and unexpected crunch.

Enjoy!

xoxo

ps: More fun recipes and stories from Spaghetti Saturdays