How to Think About Salad

Samin Nosrat famously coined the idea in Salt Fat Acid Heat that there are a simple number of core components we need to control to create the flavors we want. As you probably guessed, those components are salt, fat, acid, and heat.

I’d argue there’s another broad category that sits outside those four: the complex, nearly indescribable flavors that are natural to the ingredients we use. It’s the taste of a carrot or chicken or whatever — flavors unique to that thing. In a salad, this matters especially: when ingredients aren’t cooked, you taste them as they actually are.

Why Don’t We Just Eat Dry Salads?

Let me start with a question: why don’t we just eat big bowls of mixed vegetables with nothing on them? A dry salad, if you will.

The honest truth is we sometimes do. This could be a simple slaw — vegetables that allow themselves to be eaten raw and plain. These vegetables tend to self-sauce as you break them down. If you shred a carrot, it releases a lot of carrot juice that lubricates the eating experience.

But that doesn’t mean we can’t make these things taste better by adding salt, fat, acid, and heat. Notably, most of those aren’t present in most vegetables. Some vegetables are slightly acidic, some are definitely spicy, and while many oils are derived from vegetables, not many vegetables taste fatty or salty.

That’s what creates the difference between a plate of disjointed (but maybe decent-tasting) vegetables and a salad. It’s the dressing.

You want to make a really basic dressing? You don’t even need to mix it. You can dress it directly onto your vegetables. Use a nice big bowl if you have one — a bigger bowl is much better than one that’s too small. You’ll make a mess or won’t be able to stir adequately. For mixing, tongs work great, but a wooden spoon or even a couple of small dinner forks work perfectly fine. If you want to get intimate, you can even use your hands.

Start with Vinegar

Drizzle on some vinegar and stir it around. Let it sit for a minute. When you take a bite: Does the acid taste pleasantly sour? Is it barely there so you can’t taste it? Is it making you pucker uncomfortably?

You want it somewhere in between — enough flavor to notice it’s there, but not so much that it’s overwhelming.

Add Oil

The oil gives richness. Drizzle in some oil and stir. Does it taste rich? Is it pleasant? If you don’t see oil starting to accumulate at the bottom of the dish, add a little more until you see just a bit pooling.

Finish with Salt

Start small and taste. If it still needs something, add a little more salt. Try not to add too much because you can’t really remove salt. If you over-salt, you can add more vegetables or dressing ingredients to dilute it.

The dressing almost always brings salt, fat, and acid — sometimes heat, but often not. I’d argue you can even get away with just two of the three: salt and fat, fat and acid, or acid and salt. You’ll still have a satisfying result.

Let’s use the simplest examples:

• Salt: Table salt
• Fat: Olive oil
• Acid: Red wine vinegar

What does each of these do?

Fat creates a filling, luxurious experience that helps other flavors linger.

Salt just makes things taste better. If your food tastes boring, it’s almost always because it’s missing salt.

Acid is kind of a brightener — it elevates things. It’s often the unsung hero of cooking.

People think to reach for oil and salt, and when things taste a little flat, they don’t realize they should be reaching for lemon juice or vinegar.

Here in the West, we tend to think about salad as something with a base of lettuce. But this salt-fat-acid framework works for so many vegetables. Look around the world and you’ll see the same pattern everywhere:

• Potato salad — White vinegar (acid) plus mayonnaise, which is basically thickened oil (fat), plus salt
• Bruschetta — Tomatoes are already acidic, so you add olive oil (fat) and salt, maybe a drizzle of balsamic for extra acid
• Chinese cucumber salad — Chinkiang vinegar (acid) plus chili oil, often made from a neutral oil (fat), plus soy sauce (salt)
• Thai green papaya salad — Lime juice (acid) plus fish sauce (salt), with fat coming from crushed peanuts
• Creamy slaw — Apple cider vinegar (acid) plus blue cheese for creaminess (fat and salt together)

Different vegetables, different cultures, same framework. You can make a salad out of any vegetable you like. Pick vegetables with flavors and textures you enjoy. Cook them a little if you want. Eat it hot, cold, or room temperature.

The best thing about these salads? They hold exceptionally well. You can make big batches and they often get even better after a day or two. Green salads… not so much. But that doesn’t mean we should give up on them.

What greens really bring to a salad is texture — that juicy crunch that screams “I’m fresh and healthy.” Which is good, because the sad truth about most American greens is that’s usually all they bring to the table. Everything in the grocery store tastes kind of bland, so we expect to bring all the flavor with the other things we add.

But I want to tell you: it doesn’t have to be that way. Good greens bring so much more.

Four characteristics I look for in my salad greens:

1. Flavor — does it actually taste like something? (yes, this should be #1)
2. Texture of the individual leaf
3. Loft — the structural quality that adds lightness and holds things within a salad
4. Color for visual appeal

Loft is the quality of greens that allows them to be stacked and stay stacked. It’s the difference between 4 ounces of skirt steak garnished by a smear of flattened leaves or a proud hunk of steak nestled atop a crunchy pile of appetizing greens.

Loft comes from two things: the robustness of the leaves and the shape. Leaves with strong curls create natural springs that provide lift. Lofty leaves also tend to have small features that interlock with each other, holding together into large piles rather than falling flat.

Well-dressed greens or vegetables can absolutely be enough — especially if you’re making a side dish. But if you want something more filling, with more substance, you might want to make a few additions.

When I’m adding other ingredients, I’m typically looking for texture, sweetness, unique flavors, and pops of fat or acid. You can add anything you want, but here are the things we’d consider:

Protein

If you want a salad to be a meal, it’s often helpful to add protein. Meat is the obvious one — or for vegetarians, tofu or tempeh — but legumes like beans and lentils, cheese, and hemp hearts are also great options.

Crunchies

Croutons, crackers, dry ramen noodles, nuts, chunks of raw vegetables like cucumbers or radish.

Sweets

Often fresh or dried fruit. Honey or sugar could be added to the dressing instead. Sweetness is especially important when pairing with bitter greens.

Pickles

We already have acid in our salad, but it’s nice to have pops of sour. Don’t go heavy on the acid in the dressing when using pickles — unless you really like the pucker.

Why add ingredients that don’t go into the dressing? Contrast in a dish is fun. It makes us think, gives our palate something to compare against.

A dressing gives you the same flavor across every bite. Other ingredients give you more intense pops — and if you use them sparingly, you get variation between bites. One a little more sour, one a little more crunchy or creamy.

There is great debate amongst chefs about whether each bite should be “perfect.” Michelin-starred chefs go to great lengths to perfectly compose every bite, but we run a CSA — variety is the spice of life — so you can guess where we land.

So there you have it — our treatise on the perfect salad. Why salad? Learning to cook involves all kinds of tools and techniques, but at the end of the day it’s all about flavor. Few things pare that back as much as a salad. Let the ingredients stand where they can, and add a deliberate dash of this or that to make it just how you want it.

Master the simple salad and next thing you know you’ll be the maestro of your kitchen, whipping up a fresh weekday ragout or a stir-fry from whatever’s in the crisper drawer.