Salads, Nothing Fancy

1 shallot, thinly sliced into rings

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar or white wine vinegar

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

3 ounces guanciale or pancetta, cut into ½-inch pieces

¾ cup fresh bread crumbs (see this page) or panko

½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes, plus more for seasoning

1 garlic clove, finely grated

1 large head of escarole, torn into large pieces

1 cup fresh parsley, tender leaves and stems

3 tablespoons whole-grain mustard

3 tablespoons olive oil

¼ cup nutritional yeast (optional)

1 Combine the shallot and vinegar in a small bowl and season with salt and pepper; let sit a few minutes.

2 Heat the guanciale in a large skillet over medium-low heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until guanciale has rendered most of the fat and is starting to brown and crisp, 10 to 12 minutes (do not try to do this faster, or it will brown and crisp before fat is rendered, and fat is what we are after).

3 Add the bread crumbs and crushed red pepper flakes to the skillet. Season with salt and pepper and continue to cook until the bread crumbs are nicely golden brown and toasted, 3 to 4 minutes. Remove from the heat and add the garlic, stirring to mix in.

4 Toss the escarole, parsley, mustard, and shallot with the vinegar in a large bowl. Season with salt and pepper and add the olive oil. Give it another toss and transfer to a large serving platter. Top with the nutritional yeast (if using) and some of the bread crumbs, serving any extra alongside.

DO AHEAD Bread crumbs can be made up to 2 days ahead, tightly covered, and refrigerated. Gently rewarm before serving.

NOTE The “nutritional yeast as cheese” is something I learned from my friend/chef/excellent dancer Gerardo Gonzalez. It’s sprinkled over his famous-to-me vegan Caesar, at one of my favorite NYC pizza spots, Scarr’s. The nutty, umami-y nutritional yeast acts as a lighter, brighter parmesan.

This is not like a casual “I’ll just have a bowl of this salad for lunch” type of salad. This bitter, sassy, garlicky salad needs and wants a friend. A rich, hearty friend like leg of lamb (this page) or spicy pork shoulder (this page). Not that the fattiness of the yogurt or freshness of mint leaves don’t adequately tame the bitterness of the chicories; they do, but it’s still the kind of vegetable that needs other things on the table.

For whatever reason, I am just not a fan of coating each leaf individually with a creamy dressing (yes, I am a “dressing on the side” person) and I prefer to drag and dip my perky, seasoned lettuces through a tangy sauce rather than weigh down the leaves with a dressing, making them all sad and wilty. However, this is a no-judgment zone and if you are into salads fully tossed with creamy dressings, you can absolutely thin this yogurt number down with enough water as needed and use it as such, drizzling over the chicories and tossing to coat before serving.

1 cup full-fat Greek yogurt

4 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, divided, plus more as needed

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

½ preserved lemon, seeds removed, thinly sliced into strips

½ garlic clove, finely grated

2 heads of radicchio, Castelfranco, treviso, or other variety of chicory, torn or sliced into 2-inch pieces

1 cup fresh mint leaves, plus more for serving

¼ cup olive oil, plus more for serving

4 to 6 anchovy fillets, drained (optional)

1 Whisk the yogurt and 2 tablespoons lemon juice together in a small bowl; season with salt and pepper. It should be pleasantly tangy and salty; season with more lemon juice and salt, if needed.

2 Combine the preserved lemon, garlic, and remaining 2 tablespoons lemon juice in a large bowl. Add the chicories, mint, and olive oil and toss to coat. Season with salt and plenty of pepper.

3 Smear the yogurt mixture onto the bottom of a large serving bowl or plate and top with the salad.

4 Drizzle with more olive oil as desired, and scatter additional mint and the anchovies, if using, over the top before serving.

DO AHEAD Yogurt sauce can be made up to 3 days ahead, covered, and refrigerated. The greens can be prepped and torn and tossed with mint a day ahead, stored in a zippered bag, and refrigerated.

How many times in your life have you said, “Wow, this is a perfect salad!”? I say it all the time because I am prone to hyperbole, but when I do say it, it’s because I’m eating a bowl of very fresh and spicy greens dressed with herbs, lemon, olive oil, and flaky sea salt. To me, this salad is perfect, and yes that is a Love, Actually reference.

Not to fluff my own feathers, but every time I serve this perfect salad, people freak out. “WHAT is in this salad? WHAT did you put on it??? IT IS SO GOOD!” And I get it! How is it possible that simple greens, tossed with leafy herbs, squeezed with a little lemon, sprinkled with a little flaky salt, and drizzled with a little olive oil could be so life-changingly good?

The caveat here is that it requires a bit of “extra work” on your part, and by “extra work,” I mean “visit a farmers’ market.” All fruits and vegetables start to lose water the minute they are picked from wherever they come from (The dirt! A tree! A bush!), but none more apparently or rapidly than lettuce or salad greens. This means the greens procured from a farmers’ market are going to be fresher, perkier, and crunchier with tons more flavor than anything that’s been sitting on a supermarket shelf. When I was nineteen, I worked for a farm called Maggie’s Farm located at the Wednesday/Saturday Santa Monica Farmers’ Market. They paid me half in real American dollars and half in a spicy salad mix, which I never got sick of snacking on like chips during my drive home in Los Angeles traffic. Unfortunately, those greens spoiled me for life.

TO MAKE
For 4 to 6 people, start with either 6 to 8 cups pre-mixed greens (farmers’ markets always have the best mesclun mixes) or simply a few perfect heads of neon-green Little Gems, baby red leaf, tiny romaine, or tight little roses of butter lettuce, leaves pulled apart and torn if large. Then, mix in a LOT of fresh herbs (tender leaves AND stems, of course) like parsley, chives, dill, mint, tarragon, or cilantro (whatever mix turns you on, go for it). The ratio should almost be 50/50.

To dress this very special and simple salad, I skip the vinaigrette altogether (which, if you’ve read any of these other salad recipes, you’ll notice is a theme). Simply squeeze half a lemon over, tossing to make sure every leaf is nicely coated, but not wet or soggy. Sprinkle with some flaky salt and a good grind of black pepper. Taste a leaf or two; does it need more lemon? Squeeze some more over. More salt? Give it another sprinkle. Each leaf should taste like a pleasantly lemony, salty version of itself (green, fresh, lettuce-y, spicy if applicable). Drizzle with a bit of good olive oil and toss just to coat—not too much or the leaves could become heavy.

You can serve this salad with literally anything on the planet, or use it as a bed for a nicely poached egg and whatever leftovers you’ve got swimming about in your fridge for a better version of whatever fast-casual salad bar you’re obsessed with at the moment. To me, it is perfect—I think you’ll think so, too.

Not all watercress is created equal. There’s the wild stuff, the cultivated stuff, and the hydroponic stuff. Wild, it grows like a weed wherever there is good, fresh, gently running water, near creeks, brooks, and slow-moving rivers (hence the name, “watercress”). This is the king of all watercresses, hearty and spicy, spriggy and leafy, and insanely flavorful. It’s available seasonally at farmers’ markets and specialty grocery stores in both purple (!!) and deep army green. I wouldn’t call it an easily found ingredient, but the cultivated stuff is a good approximation.

Mostly a salad to celebrate the specialness of a good, peppery watercress, there is also crunchy fennel tossed with some thin (whole) lemon slices. I enjoy the assertive acidity and gentle bitterness of the whole lemon, which, coupled with the spiciness of the greens, makes this kind of an “adult salad,” which is, incidentally, my new favorite phrase. Serve it with anything that has more subtle, quiet flavors, like the Chicken and Mushroom Skillet Pie (this page) or the Grilled Trout with Green Goddess Butter (this page).

1 tablespoon fennel seeds

1 Meyer or regular lemon, thinly sliced, seeds removed

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 small shallot, thinly sliced or finely chopped

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 bunch watercress, arugula, or baby mustard greens, thick stem ends trimmed

1 fennel bulb, thinly sliced

Olive oil, for drizzling

1 Toast the fennel seeds in a small skillet over medium heat, shaking constantly until they are smelling super fragrant and are a light golden brown, about 1 minute.

2 Add the seeds to a small bowl along with the lemon slices, lemon juice, and shallot; season with salt and pepper. Let sit a few minutes just to slightly soften the lemon.

3 Combine the watercress and fennel in a large bowl. Add the lemon mixture and toss to combine. Season with salt and pepper and drizzle with olive oil before serving.

DO AHEAD The watercress and fennel can be tossed together a day ahead, stored in a zippered bag, and refrigerated. Dress with the lemon mixture just before serving.

NOTE The hydroponic watercress tends to be painfully delicate, wispy, and almost anemic in flavor, fine for things like garnishes, but I wouldn’t recommend using it in salads like this. If you can’t find the heartier stuff, use something like good arugula or baby mustard greens.

This is the salad of my dreams. Garlicky, bracingly acidic, clean, and crunchy as hell. The denim jacket of salads, it complements just about everything. Dress it up or dress it down, eat it alone or with 24 other things. To say anything else about this salad would be doing it a disservice, because every minute reading another word about it is a minute you’re not going to the store to get ingredients for this salad to make immediately.

Little Gem lettuces may seem like a myth, but they do exist and you can find them. If you can’t, a head of romaine, or even my best friend, iceberg lettuce, will do the trick; the point is that you should seek out a lettuce with adequate sturdiness and abundant crunch. Similarly, if pistachios aren’t your thing, you can use most any other nut, including but not limited to almonds or walnuts.

2 lemons

½ cup raw pistachios, almonds, or walnuts, finely chopped

1 garlic clove, finely grated

¼ cup olive oil, plus more for drizzling

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

4–6 heads of Little Gem lettuce (1½–2 pounds) or 1 large head of romaine or iceberg, quartered

½ cup fresh parsley, tender leaves and stems, coarsely chopped

½ cup fresh chopped chives

¼ cup fresh dill, coarsely chopped

Flaky sea salt

1 Finely chop one of the lemons, taking care to avoid and remove all seeds. Zest and juice the remaining lemon; set aside.

2 Toast the pistachios in a small skillet over medium heat until they’re just starting to smell toasty but before they turn brown, 2 to 3 minutes. Remove from the heat and place in a medium bowl; let cool.

3 Add the lemon zest, chopped lemon, garlic, and olive oil to the pistachios and season with salt and pepper.

4 Scatter the Little Gems onto a large serving platter or shallow bowl. Drizzle with the lemon juice and a bit of olive oil until all the bits get some love; season with salt and pepper.

DO AHEAD Pistachio mixture sans garlic and whole lemon can be made a day ahead. (Lemon can get bitter as it sits, so I prefer to add it just before using.)

Iceberg lettuce, historically speaking, has a reputation for being boring, basic, and just generally uncool. But like Birkenstocks and Tevas, what was once so uncool is now the coolest. And just like Birkenstocks, I now own at least one pair of iceberg lettuce. What I’m trying to say is that I’m proud to declare that I don’t just tolerate iceberg, I love iceberg. I want it. I crave it. I shop specifically for it.

Presumably named either for the watery flavor, extremely crunchy texture, or both, iceberg’s name and lackluster visual appearance don’t do much to sell itself, and it’s sure not known for its nutritional value, but that’s not why we are here. Undeniably the crunchiest in the lettuce kingdom, iceberg’s neutral flavor supports being blanketed with too much cheese and scattered with salty, assertively flavored olives. If you play your cards right (and we are playing our cards very right), iceberg can be the most over-the-top, indulgent—dare I say coolest—vegetable out there (and, no, that is not an iceberg pun, but it could be!).

1 fresh chile, such as jalapeño, Fresno, or habanero, thinly sliced, seeds removed for less heat

½ small white or yellow onion, thinly sliced

¼ cup distilled white vinegar or white wine vinegar

2 teaspoons honey

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

8 ounces Castelvetrano or oil-cured black olives, pitted and crushed

3 tablespoons fresh oregano, coarsely chopped, or 2 teaspoons dried, plus more for serving

1 head of iceberg lettuce, cut into 1½-inch wedges and leaves pulled apart slightly

½ cup fresh parsley, tender leaves and stems

6 tablespoons olive oil

1 ounce pecorino cheese, finely grated (about ½ cup), plus more, if you like

1 Combine the chile, onion, vinegar, and honey in a large bowl; season with salt and pepper and set aside for 5 or so minutes to soften and marinate the onion.

3 Arrange the lettuce and parsley on a large serving platter or in a bowl. Spoon the onion-olive mixture over. Season with salt and pepper and drizzle with olive oil. Scatter with the cheese and more oregano, if desired, before serving.

DO AHEAD This is kind of an à la minute salad, but if you must, you can cut the iceberg lettuce a few hours ahead, and store it in a zippered bag in the refrigerator.

Everyone needs a good citrus salad in their life, and this is a very good one. Sure, citrus is soft and I would definitely call this a “Crunchy Salad.” But don’t worry; there is plenty of fennel and radish to make up for any softness going on, I assure you. Since we don’t all live in a place where there is access to flawless citrus year-round (good for you, California!), you must act and react to whatever you’ve got. Until you, too, move west, there is no shame in correcting the balance of tart and sweet in your bodega citrus with things like honey and additional juice from lemons or limes!

¼ cup Castelvetrano or oil-cured black olives, pitted and crushed

¼ cup olive oil

4 tangerines or 2 oranges or 2 blood oranges (or some combination), peeled and sliced into ¼-inch rounds, seeds removed

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Honey, as needed

2 tablespoons fresh lemon or lime juice, plus more as needed

1 fennel bulb, trimmed and thinly sliced lengthwise

1 small or ½ large watermelon radish, very thinly sliced (or 4 regular radishes, thinly sliced)

2 Place the citrus on a large serving plate or platter. Season with salt, pepper, and then a little honey or lemon juice as needed to make sure everything is tasting as sweet, sour, and balanced as possible.

3 Toss the fennel, radish and 2 tablespoons lemon juice in a medium bowl; season with salt and pepper, adding more lemon juice and salt as needed to make them very tangy and almost too salty.

4 Top the citrus with the fennel-radish mixture and spoon the olive mixture over all of that. Finish with lots of black pepper.

DO AHEAD Citrus can be peeled and sliced a few hours ahead, wrapped, and refrigerated. Fennel and radish can be sliced a few hours ahead, covered, and refrigerated.

Unfortunately for celery, the nicest thing most people can say about it is that they like to eat it with their buffalo wings; but the merits of this very good and underrated vegetable are plenty, and well…I LOVE CELERY. Aside from its extremely crunchy texture, gorgeous neon-green color, and crisp, green flavor, it is cheap as hell. I would be very happy with a salad made from just thinly sliced celery, lots of lemon, salt, and pepper (I would!), but nobody is going to win Supermarket Sweep by purchasing those ingredients alone. (In case you don’t know, Supermarket Sweep is a now obsolete, truly absurd game show on which people win by spending the most money possible at the grocery store. Please do yourself a favor next time you have five minutes to kill and watch YouTube clips of this show.)

The point is that you can go a little bit high-low here and maybe dress up that frugal celery with some admittedly less frugal walnuts and a fancy blue cheese, and it still won’t break the bank. This salad, with equal parts clean and crisp/rich and creamy, is ideal for pairing with a simple roasted chicken (or one dusted with fennel seed, like on this page), a pot of spicy short ribs (this page), and maybe a bowl of herby grains (this page) or vinegared potatoes (this page).

½ cup toasted walnuts (see this page), coarsely chopped

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

4 celery stalks, with leaves, thinly sliced on the bias

1 large fennel bulb, trimmed and thinly sliced lengthwise

½ small shallot, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, plus more as needed

¼ cup olive oil, plus more as needed and for drizzling

1½ ounces firm blue cheese, such as Bayley Hazen or Valdeon, or a mild Stilton, thinly sliced or crumbled

1 Toss the walnuts with a bit of olive oil so they are nicely coated, then season with salt and pepper and set aside.

2 Toss the celery stalks (reserve the leaves for garnish), fennel, shallot, and lemon juice in a large bowl; season with salt and pepper. Drizzle with the olive oil and season with enough lemon juice to make it very tangy.

3 Transfer to a large serving platter or large shallow bowl and top with the walnuts, cheese, celery leaves, and another drizzle of olive oil and plenty of pepper.

I love cucumbers, maybe even more than I love celery (which is saying a lot). I always have at least half a hothouse or a few Persian cucumbers in my fridge, ready to be turned into a snack or a salad like this one, where they can truly shine. (I am a true cucumber purist so don’t love them in leafy salads.) Since they’ve got such a clean, neutral flavor, they get along with nearly all ingredients, but especially the creamy, fatty ones like tahini, yogurt, or cheese. Sorry to get you excited, but there is no cheese in this recipe. There is, however, a deeply sesame-y, creamy yet dairy-free tahini sauce that I think just might make you forget cheese exists altogether (at least for a few minutes).

This is the kind of dish that can be served as part of a “snacks for dinner” spread, but also as a salad alongside things like Swordfish with Crushed Olives and Oregano (this page) or One-Pot Chicken with Dates and Caramelized Lemon (this page).

½ small red onion, thinly sliced

3 tablespoons tahini

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil

3 tablespoons water

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 hothouse or 4 Persian cucumbers, thinly sliced into rounds

2 tablespoons fresh lemon or lime juice

1 tablespoon finely grated lemon or lime zest

½ teaspoon ground sumac, plus more as needed (optional)

½ cup fresh cilantro, tender leaves and stems

3 tablespoons white or black sesame seeds, toasted

Olive oil, for drizzling

1 Place the onion in a bowl of ice water and let sit 5 to 10 minutes to take the edge off; drain.

2 Whisk the tahini, sesame oil, and water in a small bowl until smooth and creamy, adding a splash of water as needed. Season with salt and pepper and set aside.

3 Toss the cucumbers, onion, lemon juice, lemon zest, and sumac (if using) together in a medium bowl; season with salt and pepper.

4 Spoon the tahini sauce onto the bottom of a large serving plate and top with the cucumbers, cilantro, sesame seeds, a drizzle of olive oil, and more sumac, if you like.

DO AHEAD Tahini sauce can be made up to 5 days ahead, stored in a container, and refrigerated.

I know this will make a lot of eyes roll, but I hate the word slaw. Worse, coleslaw. I don’t want to “yuck anyone’s yum,” but this is my book and if I decide not to call something a slaw, even though anyone could see that clearly it is, that’s my prerogative. So, here we have a spicy red cabbage SALAD, which is exactly the kind of crunchy, lime-y, spicy thing that you crave when eating anything that feels kind of heavy, like stewed, braised, or grilled meats. It can also be served as sort of a bonus salad, since it takes about 3 seconds to throw together using ingredients you can easily and affordably procure.

Feel free to mix this up, using green cabbage instead of red, adding an apple if you like things on the sweeter side. It should be tangy and crunchy, and taste just how you want, so if a shredded carrot is what you want, go for it. It should also be mentioned that while, yes, it will soften slightly, this salad keeps for days in the fridge, lightly pickling and getting better with age—just like all of us.

1 jalapeño or fresh red chile, finely grated or chopped

⅓ cup fresh lime juice, plus more for seasoning

1 tablespoon mild honey, such as orange blossom

1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes, plus more for seasoning

2 teaspoons ground sumac, plus more for seasoning

2 small heads (or 1 large head) of red cabbage, cores removed, very thinly sliced

1 red or sweet yellow onion, thinly sliced

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Olive oil, for drizzling

1 Combine the jalapeño, lime juice, honey, crushed red pepper flakes, and sumac in a large bowl. Add the cabbage and onion and season with salt and pepper; let sit a few minutes.

2 Toss again to coat and season again with salt, pepper, and more crushed red pepper flakes, sumac, and lime juice, if you like. Drizzle with olive oil just before serving.

DO AHEAD Cabbage can be sliced up to 2 days ahead, kept in a zippered plastic bag or otherwise covered tightly, and stored in the refrigerator. Salad can be made 3 days ahead.

My humble homage to New York City, this salad is inspired by a restaurant I probably eat at more than any other place: X’ian Famous Foods. It’s a western Chinese-style spot with several locations around New York City, which means when a craving strikes, no matter where you are in Queens, Brooklyn, or Manhattan, you can treat yourself. And I do treat myself. Often. Anyway. I don’t know exactly what’s in their version of this salad; all I know is that it’s 80 percent cilantro stems and 15 percent celery, and 5 percent other stuff like scallions and sesame oil. It’s the perfect thing to eat when getting down on intensely lamb-y noodles or crazy-hot dumplings, but since I started making my own version (I added fish sauce and lime juice, and there’s a heavier ratio of celery to other stuff), I realized I liked eating it with just about everything, but especially things like hot-and-sour chicken (this page) or soy-braised brisket (this page).

Honestly, though, sometimes I’ll just make one to eat by itself because I am truly “Wild About Celery” (the title of my forthcoming memoir), especially in the summer when it’s too hot outside to eat anything but a bowl of salty, tangy, herby celery.

2 tablespoons white sesame seeds

6 scallions, green and white parts, thinly sliced on the bias

4 celery stalks and leaves, very thinly sliced on the bias

1 bunch fresh cilantro, tender leaves and stems, cut into 2-inch pieces

1 fresh green chile, such as Thai, jalapeño, or Bird’s Eye, seeds removed, thinly sliced

1 tablespoon fish sauce

3 tablespoons unseasoned rice wine vinegar, plus more as needed

2 tablespoons fresh lime juice, plus more as needed

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 tablespoons canola oil

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil

¼ cup olive oil, plus more for drizzling

1 Toast the sesame seeds in a small skillet over medium-high heat until golden brown and starting to pop, about 2 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside.

2 Toss the scallions, celery, cilantro, chile, fish sauce, vinegar, and lime juice together in a large bowl. Season with salt and pepper and add the oils. Season again with more salt and pepper, adding more lime juice or vinegar if you like.

3 Transfer to a large bowl or serving platter and top with the sesame seeds, lots of pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil.

DO AHEAD Scallions, celery, cilantro, and chile can be combined a day ahead, stored in a large zippered bag, and refrigerated. Dress before serving.

I love crunchy fruit in salads, which is why I suggest you seek out slightly underripe Fuyu persimmons here. If you can’t find them, feel free to substitute Asian pears or more regular apples (a mix of all three would not be bad, either). You want the fruit to be fairly acidic and salty; the honey is there to compensate for any lack of naturally occurring sweetness, so adjust with more as needed.

Fresh horseradish is one of my favorite niche ingredients that I don’t love to call for because I know it can be challenging to find, but I have noticed it increasingly pop up at grocery stores, so I’m just going to live my truth and call for it. If you can’t find it, prepared horseradish will do the trick—just expect a tangier salad (not the worst thing).

2 large, firm, tart apples, such as Pink Lady, Honeycrisp, or Gold Rush, cored and thinly sliced

2 Fuyu persimmons or Asian pears, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar or white wine vinegar, plus more for seasoning

2 teaspoons honey, plus more for seasoning

Flaky sea salt

Coarsely ground black pepper

1 knob of fresh horseradish, for grating, or 1 teaspoon prepared horseradish

1½–2 ounces sharp white cheddar or Gouda

Olive oil, for drizzling

1 Arrange the apples and persimmons on a large serving plate. Drizzle with the vinegar and honey (if using prepared horseradish, mix with vinegar and honey first so that you can evenly distribute), and sprinkle with flaky salt and pepper. Give everything a subtle toss, being gentle to avoid breakage. Season with more salt, pepper, honey, and vinegar as needed.

2 Using a peeler, shave a bit of horseradish onto the fruit, followed by a crumbling of the cheese. Drizzle all over with olive oil before serving.

I’m sure you’ve already figured this out, but I’ll say it anyway. This “salad” is just an excuse to eat an extraordinary amount of cheese. It’s also a way to eat an extraordinary amount of peas, which I love. For what it’s worth, I am not the kind of person who insists on shelling in-season, farmers’ market peas (I think frozen peas are pretty damn good and can absolutely be used here), but if you happen upon them, there is no dish more worthy of the glory of fresh peas than this one.

¼ cup oil-cured black olives or Castelvetrano olives, pitted

⅓ cup olive oil

2 cups fresh (or frozen, thawed!) English peas

2 tablespoons freshly grated lemon zest

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

3 cups spicy greens, such as mustard greens or arugula

1 cup fresh mint leaves, torn

2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh chives

½ cup fresh parsley, tender leaves and stems

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice, plus more to taste

2 balls burrata cheese, drained (you can also use mozzarella; just expect a different visual)

2 Place half of the peas in a medium bowl. Using your hands (or, if you’re more refined and/or own one, a potato masher), crush the peas. You’re looking for crushed, not a puree, so don’t bother using a food processor. Add the remaining peas and lemon zest, and season with salt and pepper.

3 Toss the greens, mint, chives, parsley, and lemon juice together in another medium bowl, and season with salt and pepper and a bit more lemon juice if you like.

4 Tear the burrata into pieces and arrange on a large serving platter or in a shallow bowl (you can also cut the burrata, but tearing it is much easier). Scatter the crushed peas on and around the burrata and top with the olive mixture, followed by the spicy greens and herbs.

DO AHEAD Peas can be seasoned a day ahead, covered tightly, and stored in the refrigerator.

Smashing cucumbers is not just a fun thing to do and say, but it also serves a purpose. Since they are mostly water, it’s best to salt and then smash them, which releases some of the water and concentrates those cucumber flavors. What you’re left with is a crunchy, craggily, geode-esque vegetable, ready to be graced by an assertively delicious dressing.

Here, that dressing starts with a toasted garlic oil laced with turmeric, not just for color (although, would you look at that color??) but for its vaguely ginger-y, deeply earthy flavor, which loves a cucumber.

It’s hard to say how this salad-y number is best served—because the answer is “with everything and all the time.”

½ cup grapeseed oil

6 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped

1-inch knob fresh turmeric, coarsely chopped, or ½ teaspoon ground turmeric

1 teaspoon flaky sea salt, plus more for seasoning

6 Persian cucumbers, or 2 hothouse cucumbers, cut into 1-inch chunks

2 scallions or 1 spring onion, green and white parts, thinly sliced

3 tablespoons distilled white vinegar, white wine vinegar, or rice wine vinegar, plus more to taste

Freshly ground black pepper

½ cup fresh mixed herbs, such as dill and mint, tender leaves and stems

1 Heat the oil in a medium pot over medium heat. Add the garlic and cook, swirling the pot occasionally, until the garlic is sizzling loudly and looks (and smells) delightfully toasted, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the turmeric and flaky salt and swirl the pot. Remove from the heat; set aside.

2 Place the cucumbers in a large resealable plastic bag and season with salt. Using a heavy skillet, rolling pin, or anything heavy, smash the cucumbers until they split and explode a bit. Let them sit few minutes to release some of that water.

3 Drain the cucumbers, discarding any liquid. Combine the cucumbers, scallions, and vinegar in a large serving bowl. Season with salt, pepper, and more vinegar. Drizzle with the toasted garlic oil, letting it run into the tiny scraggly bits. Scatter with the herbs before serving.

DO AHEAD Cucumbers can be smashed a few hours ahead, draining and seasoning before serving. Crunchy garlic and turmeric oil can be made 2 days ahead, covered, and refrigerated; bring to room temperature before using.

Summer squash is, admittedly, pretty boring. It doesn’t taste like a whole lot and is made mostly of water. So what’s it doing here? I would not steer you wrong—hear me out. It’s so wildly abundant in the summer that I feel guilty not cooking with it (don’t you?), so I’m always trying new ways to attempt to love this vegetable. Turns out, if you dress it with enough fresh lemon juice and salty fish sauce, and blanket it with Parmesan cheese, oniony chives, and very crunchy things like buckwheat, it’s better than tolerable—it’s amazing.

2 tablespoons buckwheat kernels (also unfortunately known as buckwheat groats) or pumpkin seeds

2 medium summer squash (about 1¼ pounds), very thinly sliced

3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon fish sauce

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 good hunk of parmesan cheese, for grating

Olive oil, for drizzling

¼ cup finely chopped fresh chives

¼ cup fresh basil leaves, torn

¼ cup fresh parsley, tender leaves and stems

1 Toast the buckwheat in a small skillet over medium heat, tossing frequently until golden brown and starting to smell like popcorn, 2 to 3 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside.

2 Toss the squash with the lemon juice and fish sauce in a large bowl, and season with salt and pepper. Scatter the squash on a large serving platter or in a shallow bowl. Grate the parmesan over, drizzle with olive oil, and top with the buckwheat, chives, basil, and parsley.

DO AHEAD I would not do anything ahead of time here, other than toast the buckwheat or pumpkin seeds. This salad is best dressed when you’re ready to serve and eat it. (After it’s dressed it begins to lose texture and flavor, so it’s kind of a dress-and-eat situation.)

Ever eat something so good it makes you cry? This happens to me, mostly when I’m in an exotic locale eating something exquisite—like Portugal (grilled head-on prawns tossed with garlic and olive oil) or Rome (cacio e pepe, obviously)—but it rarely happens with food I make because I’m too close to it. Though, the first time I made these tomatoes, cooking with friends in some fantasy upstate house (that definitely did not belong to any of us), there were tears (of joy!).

You’re probably thinking that you need perfect tomatoes to make this dish, but the beauty is that you don’t (any East Coaster will tell you that the good tomatoes don’t even show up until late August). The insanely flavorful oil used to dress them, spicy from pepper flakes, crunchy with toasted fennel seed, and salty with bits of anchovy, will transform any tomato. It’s also good on most vegetables—raw summer squash, cucumbers, radish or fennel, roasted eggplant, sautéed greens or broccoli…I could go on. Okay, I will. Its also good tossed with pasta, to dip bread in, spooned over creamy goat cheese or feta, or…you get the idea.

½ cup olive oil

2 tablespoons fennel seeds, crushed

2 teaspoons Aleppo-style pepper, or 1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

8 anchovy fillets, plus more if you like

2–3 pounds small-ish very ripe tomatoes, quartered or sliced

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar or white wine vinegar

Flaky sea salt

Coarsely ground black pepper

1 Heat the olive oil in a small pot over medium heat. Add the fennel seeds, Aleppo-style pepper, and anchovies, swirling and toasting until the spices are fragrant and the anchovies are melted, 2 to 4 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside.

2 Scatter the tomatoes on a large serving platter or in a shallow bowl. Drizzle with the vinegar and, if you want, scatter with more anchovies (or just serve alongside in their little tin for snacking on). Spoon the toasted fennel–anchovy mixture over and top with flaky salt and a few grinds of black pepper.

DO AHEAD The toasted fennel–anchovy oil can be made up to 2 weeks ahead, tightly covered, and stored in the refrigerator. The tomatoes can be sliced 1 hour ahead, if you must, but are really best if sliced, dressed, and served immediately.

This salad is the best thing about a corn salsa without (a) calling it a corn salsa; and (b) using tomatoes, which I find too wet and too soft for this kind of thing. The tomatillos, by comparison, are firm, super tart, and have just the right amount of juiciness—enough to act as a sort of dressing for the charred corn without making everything soggy (the worst!). I think corn is the best version of itself when grilled (the sugars in the corn caramelize just like sugar in a pan does), but blasting it in a very hot oven is a great alternative. (For a photo of the finished dish, see this page.)

1 bunch scallions or spring onions

6 ears fresh corn, shucked

2 tablespoons canola or grapeseed oil

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

4 tomatillos, husked and rinsed, thinly sliced

1 cup fresh cilantro, tender leaves and stems, coarsely chopped, plus more for garnish

1–2 avocados, depending on how much you like avocado, sliced or coarsely chopped (optional)

Olive oil, for drizzling

2 Finely chop 2 scallions, green and white parts; set aside. Place the corn and whole scallions on a large rimmed baking sheet; drizzle with the oil and season with salt and pepper.

3 Grill the corn until deeply charred on all sides (the best way to do this is by letting the ears char without moving them, rotating only every few minutes or so), 8 to 10 minutes. Add the scallions and grill about a minute or two. (If using the oven, simply roast, turning occasionally, until the corn and scallions are golden brown and lightly charred, 15 to 20 minutes. The corn will never char as if it had been grilled, but this is okay; get as much color as possible.) Let corn cool slightly.

4 Using a sharp knife, remove the kernels from the corn and place in a large bowl along with the lime juice, tomatillos, and cilantro. Coarsely chop the charred scallions and add to the corn along with the remaining raw chopped scallions. Toss to coat and season with salt and pepper.

5 Transfer to a large bowl or serving platter, top with more cilantro and avocado, if desired, and drizzle with olive oil.

DO AHEAD Corn salad can be made a day ahead, stored in a container, and refrigerated.

NOTE I mention avocados to give you permission to use them, because I know you probably want to. Logically, I know they would be great, but avocados make me feel nothing, so I leave them “optional.”

Other grilled dishes, such as Grilled Shrimp with Crushed Fresh Tomatoes and Lots of Lime (this page)

If you’re thinking Is this just ham and melon together?, well, the answer is, yes, there is ham and there is melon, but the ham is crispy and the melon is tangy, so let’s just say that this is a whole different ball game from prosciutto-wrapped melon. Oh, there is also cheese, making it a real one-stop-shopping kind of scene. More salad than snack, but truthfully, it can be eaten as either a predinner snack or a dinner salad. The only thing that would change is your plating: for a snack, the ingredients can be cut a bit larger and casually draped over one another; for a salad, they should be a touch more bite-sized and casually tossed together.

There are only two rules for this dish: (1) Your melon, as when eating any melon, should be as ripe and delicious as possible; I’m talking juices running down your forearm ripe. (2) Make sure to assemble the salad just before serving, so that the ham stays crispy as intended.

4 ounces thinly sliced prosciutto, speck, or coppa ham

1 cantaloupe or other melon, cut into thin wedges, peel removed if you like

1 lemon, cut in half crosswise

Flaky sea salt

2 ounces ricotta salata or firm mild feta, very thinly sliced

Olive oil, for drizzling

Freshly ground black pepper

1 Preheat the oven to 425°F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper. Lay the prosciutto in a thin, even layer (without overlapping or touching) and bake until crispy and crunchy (it may wrinkle and crinkle a bit, that’s okay), 8 to 12 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside.

2 Arrange the melon wedges on a large platter and squeeze lemon juice all over. Sprinkle with the salt.

3 On a serving plate, scatter the ricotta salata and ham bits around. Drizzle with olive oil and give it a good few grinds of fresh pepper before serving.

NOTE If you’re making this as a snack, serve it with dips as part of a “not-crudité” platter (this page), or alongside other crispy, crunchy, salty things like the breadsticks on this page or giant crunchy corn on this page.