216 recipes. Page 8 of 9
Salad recipes with vegetables, fruit, and grains
Roasted until the edges go deep golden, the florets pick up a toasty sweetness that stands up to heavy, nutty tahini, which would simply smother boiled cauliflower. Lemon juice and garlic lighten the sauce, and a generous handful of parsley cuts through the oil.
Pomegranate seeds burst with tart juice between soft slices of roasted eggplant. Salted first to draw out surface water, the eggplant browns at the edges in the oven instead of steaming.
Kabocha roasted with its skin on turns chestnut-dry and fluffy inside, with caramelized edges outside. Autumn squash, at its sweetest, gives the clearest version of that flavor. White miso loosened with rice vinegar and maple syrup makes a dressing that is salty, sweet, and sour at once, and it makes the squash taste sweeter rather than masking it. With a very salty miso, add the dressing in portions and taste along the way. A bed of peppery arugula keeps the plate from tipping too sweet. Chickpeas and walnuts add chew and enough heft to make this a vegetarian main.
Perilla seed powder and Greek yogurt bind this potato salad instead of mayonnaise, giving it a nutty taste and a light finish. King oyster mushrooms torn into thick strips keep their chew after roasting, a good foil to the fluffy, roughly mashed potato.
Thin wedges of pumpkin come out of the oven browned at the tips and soft through the middle. Cut thicker than about 7 to 8 mm, they dry out on the surface before the center cooks through. Crumbled feta lands salty and tangy on that chestnut-like sweetness, and toasted pumpkin seeds add crunch. Laid on the spinach while still warm, the pumpkin wilts the leaves just slightly and the parts come together instead of sitting separately on the plate. The leaves need to be shaken or blotted very dry, since wet spinach thins the lemon and honey dressing and flattens the taste.
Bitter, herbal chwinamul (a Korean wild green usually dressed as a namul side dish) meets the sweetness of roasted sweet potato in a perilla oil and soy dressing. The greens lose that bitter aroma and their clear color first if they sit in the boiling water too long.
Bell pepper, zucchini, eggplant, and onion lose their surface moisture fast in a hot oven, so their sweetness concentrates and the edges pick up scattered char. Peppery arugula underneath answers that sweetness, and a splash of balsamic adds the acid. Even the preheated tray serves a purpose: vegetables that hit hot metal start roasting at once rather than sweating.
Tuna, soft-boiled eggs, green beans, tomatoes, olives and anchovies stay in separate sections of the platter rather than being tossed together, the traditional way it is served in Nice. The runny yolks do half the dressing's work: break them just before eating and they flow over everything alongside the lemon and Dijon vinaigrette. Salty anchovy and olive play against the mild tuna. Eggs left warm after boiling keep cooking from residual heat and lose that liquid center.
Rich, salty smoked salmon meets buttery avocado, and capers pop with briny tang in almost every bite. With nothing to cook, the salad comes together fast, and the only thing to hold back is the avocado, sliced at the last moment so it stays green.
Beef brisket is simmered until tender, cooled completely and shredded into fine strands, then tossed with lettuce, tomato, red onion and jalapeño in lime juice and cider vinegar and eaten cold.
Torn lettuce gets a thin, glossy coat of red chili dressing seconds before it reaches the table, usually beside grilled pork belly or other grilled meat. The dressing rests for about a minute first, long enough for the chili flakes to soften and lose their dusty taste. Geotjeori is a fresh, unaged kimchi-style salad, and it does not hold: left to sit, the leaves wilt and liquid gathers in the bowl. When the dressing tastes thin, drying the lettuce matters more than adjusting the sauce: the usual cause is water trapped between the leaves rather than too little seasoning. Thin slices of onion add a sharp edge against the mild bitterness of the leaves. Plum syrup gives a fruitier, subtler sweetness than sugar, and vinegar tempers the chili heat.
Glasswort grows near tidal flats and its thin stems already taste salty, which leaves the seasoning to chili flakes, vinegar, plum syrup and sesame oil with no added salt. The stems pop when bitten, and keeping that snap explains the 10-second blanch and the plunge into cold water right after. Mixing it for too long makes the stems go limp and leaves water on the plate. For that reason the chili flakes are soaked in the vinegar and plum syrup first, and a quick toss then coats the greens. Paper-thin onion adds a little sweetness, and the fruity plum syrup rounds off the vinegar's sharpness.
A brief dip in boiling water firms the surface of acorn jelly, which helps the soft slices survive being tossed in a soy, vinegar and chili dressing. Mixing them takes a few gentle lifts from the bottom rather than stirring, as they still break easily.
Six layers of romaine, cucumber, cherry tomato, peas, chopped egg, and red onion show through the side of a glass bowl, capped with Greek yogurt and lemon. Egg brings mild richness, peas a starchy sweetness, and red onion a sharp edge against the creamy top. Serve with a spoon that reaches all the way to the bottom, so every plate gets every layer.
Tofu mashed until smooth, with ground sesame and a little sugar, coats the carrot and konjac in a white dressing that is more gently sweet than salty. Any warmth or liquid left in the vegetables thins it out, so after their simmer in dashi they are drained and cooled completely.
Finely grated feta covers chopped tomato, cucumber, green pepper, and onion like a layer of snow in Bulgaria's best-known salad. There is no separate dressing: juice from ripe tomatoes mixes with the olive oil and red wine vinegar and becomes the sauce at the bottom of the bowl. Green pepper's grassy bitterness keeps the salty cheese and watery vegetables from tasting one-note. The feta brings plenty of salt on its own, so the vegetables get only a light seasoning to start. Scraping out the cucumber's seed section means less water diluting that sauce, and tossing right before eating keeps the vegetables firm.
Snappy shrimp and soft, ripe mango are pulled together by lime juice and fish sauce, salty and sour at once. It is best eaten cold, soon after tossing, before the mango and shrimp start shedding liquid into the bowl.
Searing smoked duck briefly renders the surface fat, and what richness remains gets cut by the nose-tingling heat of mustard and a splash of vinegar. Korean chives, cabbage, and bell pepper give it crunch and a garlicky green aroma, while honey and sesame oil round off the soy dressing. Toss the duck with the vegetables while it is still warm, when the meat feels most tender.
Shredded green papaya is bruised only lightly in a mortar with a hot lime dressing and keeps its strands crisp instead of limp. The mortar acts more like a mixing bowl than a grinder. Pounding hard snaps the thin strands and softens them.
Fine shreds of green papaya get lightly bruised in a mortar so they soak up lime juice, fish sauce, and palm sugar. Unripe papaya has none of the fruit's sweetness, just a crisp crunch, and the dressing hits hot, sour, salty, and sweet all at once. A cold-water soak firms the shreds, but they need thorough draining or the measured dressing turns watery. Light pounding is all it takes; stop once the tomatoes start to release juice, before they collapse. Without a mortar, a large bowl and a rolling pin do the same job with gentle pressing, and seeding the Thai chilies tames the heat. Serve it as soon as the peanuts are mixed in, while the papaya is still crisp.
Thin slices of strawberry and a honey-balsamic dressing lay sweet and tart notes over tender baby spinach. Toasted walnuts and very thin red onion keep the salad from tipping into dessert, one with crunch and the other with a sharp bite.
Thinned with lemon juice, ssamjang (the soybean and chili dipping paste used for Korean lettuce wraps) becomes a savory dressing sturdy enough for raw kale. The kale's slight bitterness suits that nutty, salty depth, and red cabbage and cucumber add juicy crunch. Golden pan-seared tofu edges and sliced almonds supply the crunch in the name; scatter the almonds at the last minute so they stay crisp.
Raw crown daisy leaves are bitter and fragrant, and a yuzu marmalade dressing wraps them in sweet citrus while browned tofu adds a mild, savory base. Because the greens stay uncooked, hot tofu wilts them on contact and dulls their aroma; let the tofu cool briefly first. Soy sauce, lemon, and sesame oil balance the sweetness of the marmalade, and gentle folding keeps the seared cubes whole.
Paper-thin cucumber and wakame soak in a sweet rice vinegar dressing, and the result is cool, tangy, and very light. Unlike many cucumber salads, it carries no garlic or chili, so the vinegar and the clean taste of cucumber come through on their own.