165 recipes. Page 7 of 7
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Cold slices of pork trotter are topped with jellyfish, cucumber and carrot and dressed with a mustard and vinegar sauce sharp enough to sting the nose. Chilling the sauce ahead of time makes it all the more refreshing.
Doenjang, Korean fermented soybean paste, carries this cucumber side dish, with only half a tablespoon of chili flakes, and it tastes gentler than the red, spicy oi-muchim. The cucumbers are cut fairly thick and salted only briefly to stay cold, juicy and crisp under a thin coat of paste.
Sliced paper-thin on the bias, about 0.1cm, the cucumber takes on the dressing quickly and turns tender while keeping its crunch. Vinegar brightens the cucumber's cool, watery freshness, and the chili heat follows quietly behind. It shows up constantly on Korean summer tables, on its own with rice or piled onto naengmyeon and bibimbap. It is mixed close to mealtime, since after about 30 minutes the cucumber starts weeping water and goes limp.
Squid scored on the inside, blanched briefly, and plunged into ice water stays chewy without turning rubbery. Half-moon cucumber slices add crisp juiciness, and shredded red cabbage brings a purple contrast. The chojang dressing, gochujang (Korean chili paste) thinned with vinegar and maesil-cheong, a green plum syrup, is spicy, sweet, and sour all at once, giving the mild squid a strong accent. Served cold, it makes a light meal on hot summer days when appetite is low.
The earthy smell of early-spring naengi (shepherd's purse) gives this squid salad with chojang, a sweet-sour chili dressing, its seasonal character. The greens are cleaned of roots and grit, then dipped only briefly in salted boiling water to soften their bitterness while keeping their aroma.
Tuscan cooks made this salad in summer to use up stale bread, and the recipe still starts with dried ciabatta. The juice that tomatoes release after salting is not discarded; whisked into the red wine vinegar dressing, it seeps into the oven-toasted bread and gives it a sweet-sour flavor.
Coarse, soft lumps of tofu sit between thin strips of red and yellow pepper and cucumber, and each bite alternates between creamy and crisp. The soy and vinegar dressing is a small amount, and any water left on the tofu or vegetables thins it quickly and pools at the bottom of the bowl.
Cooked quinoa shows a tiny ring around each grain, and its light pop contrasts with juicy cucumber and tomato. Rubbing the grains while rinsing removes their bitter coating, which lets the lemon dressing taste clean. Chopped parsley and thin red onion give the mild grain aroma and bite. Dressed only with olive oil and lemon juice, it goes to the table right after tossing.
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.
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.
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.
Peanut butter whisked with soy sauce, lime juice, and chili sauce gives the same rich, nutty profile as the peanut sauce served with satay skewers. That sauce goes over thick pieces of seared tofu with lettuce, carrot, and cucumber, turning a salad into a full meal. Water clinging to the vegetables thins the dressing and dulls it, so shake them dry before assembling.
Left with small lumps on purpose, the potato reads less like smooth mash and more like a chunky salad, with flakes of tuna tucked between pieces you can bite. A short salting first keeps the finely chopped cucumber, carrot and onion crunchy and stops them leaking water into the mayonnaise later. Whole-grain mustard adds a sharper edge and a few popping seeds, and the bowl is served cold from the fridge.
Cold, juicy watermelon against salty crumbled feta gives the sweet-salty contrast this salad is built on. Lime juice and mint keep the finish cool, while thin half-moons of cucumber add a different, firmer crunch. Because watermelon softens and leaks quickly, the salad suits eating right away on a hot day rather than making ahead.
Fish sauce and lime hit first, salty and sour, with seared sirloin underneath carrying the beefy flavor. Chili flakes bring heat, and torn mint cuts through the richness of the meat. Rather than a fixed cooking time, which shifts with the thickness of the steak and the heat of the pan, doneness is judged by the thickest part reaching at least 63°C, followed by a 5-minute rest before slicing. If the red onion tastes too sharp, a 5-minute soak in cold water tames it, as long as it is drained well afterward. Fish sauce does all the seasoning with no separate salt, and the beef is tossed while still warm so it contrasts with the crisp cucumber, tomato and red onion.
Shredded daikon, carrot and cucumber are fanned out in rings with raw salmon in the middle, and everyone tosses the platter high with chopsticks just before eating. Plum sauce and lemon make the dressing sweet and tangy, and sesame seeds add a nutty finish. Pregnant people, children, older adults and anyone with weakened immunity should skip it, because the salmon is eaten raw and even fish sold for raw eating carries some risk.
Sweet citrus from yuja (Korean citron) marmalade and the nose-tingling heat of Korean mustard share one dressing, which coats shredded chicken breast and thin-cut vegetables served cold. The chicken is poached without salt, so all the seasoning comes from the dressing.