Salad

I devised this recipe to harness the delicious juices shrimp exude as they’re cooking—the shrimp essence. Not wanting to completely overwhelm delicately flavored greens with the powerfully spiced shrimp, I use a mixture of arugula, lettuce, and a high proportion of mint, dressed with olive oil and lemon juice. The result is a nice, juicy, big, flavorful and easy salad.

This is a nearly traditional salad in which the grapefruit plays a leading role, complementing mild shrimp and allowing you to make an almost ridiculously easy dressing, made up of nothing more than fish sauce (called nam pla in Thailand and nuoc mam in Vietnam), or soy, lime, a bit of sugar, and some water. Use good shrimp—Pacific or Gulf whites are the best, though the less expensive and widely available tiger shrimp are acceptable—and buy them big, because you’ll have fewer to peel.

So few ingredients and so much flavor—as long as the ingredients are of high quality! Omit the basil if you can’t find any, but where there are good tomatoes there is probably good basil. Add slices of mozzarella to make this more substantial.

This salad features grilled chicken; a superflavorful dressing based on soy sauce, peanut or sesame butter, and spices; and cucumber for crunch. Make extra dressing and you can serve the chicken on top of a bed of salad greens. Boneless chicken thighs are preferable to breasts, because their flavor and texture are superior, they remain moist during grilling, and they brown perfectly.

Many cucumbers are best if they’re salted first. The process removes some of their bitterness and makes them extra-crisp—it takes some time but almost no effort. Start with one or two Kirby (pickling) cucumbers per person—or half of a medium cucumber or about a third of a long (“English”) cucumber. For a full-meal cucumber salad with a Southeast Asian flair, try Cucumber Salad with Scallops (page 54).

This is simply a kind of sea-based mesclun with a distinctively sesame-flavored dressing. The only challenge in making it lies in the shopping. Few supermarkets carry any seaweed at all, so you need to hit an Asian or health food market for any kind of selection. At most Japanese markets and some health food stores, you can find what amounts to a prepackaged assortment of seaweed salad greens; these are a little more expensive than buying individual seaweeds but will give you a good variety without a big investment.

Eaten raw, beets are delicious; even many self-proclaimed beet haters will like them in this salad. To eat a beet raw, you have to peel it and shred it. The first step is easiest with a regular vegetable peeler. I do the second with the metal blade of a food processor, pulsing the machine on and off until the beets are finely cut. You could use the shredding blade, but it isn’t any easier or better. Or you could use a manual grater, but only if you’re looking for an upper-body workout.

This is a salad for a small crowd, though it can be made as big or as little as you like. But please, see this ingredients list as a series of suggestions rather than dogma—a chopped salad can contain any combination that appeals to you, including raw vegetables like broccoli or cauliflower or crunchy cabbages like bok choy, as well as nuts, seeds, and fruit.

As far a cry from iceberg lettuce and bottled dressing as you can imagine, this is a magical combination of powerful flavors made without cooking or any major challenges. Simple as this salad is, without top-quality ingredients it won’t amount to much. So use sherry or good balsamic vinegar to make the dressing, use pears that are tender and very juicy, not crunchy, mushy, or dry, and use real Italian Gorgonzola. It should be creamy; if you can taste it before buying, so much the better. This rich salad can serve as the centerpiece of a light lunch, accompanied by little more than bread. It makes an equally great starter for a grand dinner—followed by roasted meat or fish, for example—or a simple one, served with soup.

A load of herbs and a strongly flavored vinaigrette make this salad special. Choose either the soy or the nut vinaigrette depending on what appeals to you, what you’re serving the salad with, and what you’ve got on hand.

Many people are hooked on premade salad dressing because they believe that homemade dressing is a production, but it need not be. Try this. (And see Basic Vinaigrette, page 304, or Soy Vinaigrette or Nut Vinaigrette)

Here’s a salad that combines the fresh tartness of green—unripe—mangoes with a little stir-fried meat. Unripe mangoes are more common than the ripe variety at most supermarkets, but if you can’t find them, substitute Granny Smith apples. Nam pla—Thai fish sauce—is described on page 500. Palm sugar is authentic but pretty indistinguishable from brown sugar.

A simple, bright, and light salad with tons of flavor. One of the best possible lunch dishes. See page 500 for information on fish sauces like nam pla.

The first time I had this salad—it was in Saigon—I ate so much of it I could barely eat anything else. So, obviously, you can make it as a main course (serve it with rice). Technically, it’s a starter and a great use for leftover steak. For a traditional, unusual, and wonderful Thai version, toss the beef with 1/4 cup Khao Koor powder (page 587) before dressing. For information on nam pla, see page 500.

In Lyon, fat remains king, which makes it a pleasure to eat there—assuming you can put your guilt aside. This salad is best made with a mixture of greens, some of which should be bitter, like dandelion. The poached egg (which ideally will be hot) softens everything, the bacon provides salt, crunch, and fat, the vinegar spices it all up—the combination is really a treat. One of my favorite lunches and a knockout first course, which should be followed by something light.

The ideal herb for seasoning this salad is rau ram, which is not impossible to find if a well-stocked Asian store or supermarket is in your area; you can pick up your Thai fish sauce (page 500) while you’re there. The best alternative is a combination of cilantro and mint, which comes pretty close. If you don’t have precooked chicken, just simmer chicken breasts (bone-in are best) in water to cover for 10 to 15 minutes. When the meat is done, pull it from the bone (continue cooking the bones, perhaps with a few vegetables like carrots and onions, to make stock) and chop or shred.

Tarator, or skordalia (page 600), is one of the most useful dressings I know, a mayonnaiselike sauce that contains neither egg nor oil. Here it transforms ordinary chicken salad.

This is simply a kind of sea-based mesclun with a distinctively sesame-flavored dressing. Wakame, a dark green, leafy seaweed, is sold dried almost everywhere and is the most common seaweed used in salad. Other seaweeds, ranging in color from light green to bright red to black and in texture from leafy to ferny, are all fine (see page 483). At most Japanese markets and some health food stores, you can find a prepackaged assortment of seaweed salad greens; these are a little more expensive than buying individual seaweeds but will give you a good variety without a big investment.You don’t need much: an ounce of dried seaweed, or even less, is enough to make a salad for four.

The story about this so-called Russian classic is that it was created by a nineteenth-century French chef, M. Olivier, who ran The Hermitage, a famous restaurant in Moscow. It is essentially a potato salad–chicken salad combo and, as such, eminently useful. This recipe outlines the basic salad; you can improvise as you would for Salade Niçoise (page 196).

Not surprisingly—Vietnamese food is only occasionally hot—this isn’t as blistering as the vegetarian Thai version on page 174. You can buy Vietnamese chili garlic paste at any store selling Asian ingredients; it keeps nearly forever in the refrigerator. Fish sauces like nam pla and nuoc mam are discussed on page 500. Palm sugar is available at many Asian markets, but brown sugar is indistinguishable in flavor.