I have never been a fan of salads.
Call it a residual leftover from childhood. Maybe it’s cultural conditioning (not going to lie, I still harbor an immature…wariness of Brussels sprouts), maybe it was the time where I vividly remember almost choking to death on spinach as a kid (I’m not making this up), maybe I’m just not really anything that’s not drenched in salt, sugar, or butter. So sue me.
That being said, I’m not a completely unhealthy person. I’ve never deep-fried anything in my life. When I cook for myself, I'm mostly vegetarian. The majority of the things that I spy on This is Why You’re Fat makes my arteries feel more clogged just through visual consumption (though, handy tip: the site is an excellent appetite-suppressant if you are trying to hold out a little longer until your lunch hour at work).
I began to see the light that is the joy of salad consumption last year, largely due to the herbivorous impulses of my roommate, Maddie. I'm talking about a girl that practically has larger biceps from her salad-spinner usage alone. There were always various scary-looking unlabelled jars in our refrigerator full of unidentifiable leftover dressing (did I mention that she always made her own dressing? Because she did). Though I never made salads myself, I often was lucky enough to be around at the right time and place to poach the leftovers. And the same thought always occurred to me as I chewed on a forkful of romaine lettuce, spinach, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, garlic powder, salt, and pepper – this would be so easy to make! And it is.
The following salad is not the salad I remember from my youth. You know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about that pile of wilted iceberg lettuce salad that languished untouched at all-you-can-eat buffets, limply sporting a couple shreds of carrots and a few shriveled olives. The type of salad that you raced past in favor of loading your plate up with kiddie kryptonite (known colloquially as, "lime Jello").
No, this salad is the type of salad that you feel guilty about because it seems too good to be true. And then you realize that it isn’t, so you bring it home to meet your parents. This is a salad whose shoulder you can cry on when you didn’t get the job, who won’t judge you when you’re still in sweatpants at 4 PM, who will be there for you when you come home after a long day. Am I still talking about salad here? You be the judge.
Greek Pasta Salad with Roasted Vegetables
My favorite thing about salad recipes is that it’s not like baking – you can add, subtract, and substitute anything in this recipe to suit what you already have, personal taste preferences, and time constraints. Depending on the time of TLC you want to put into it, this salad could take anywhere from 15 minutes to two hours to make. Don’t want to wait for the veggies to cook in the oven? Coat them lightly in olive oil and roast them on a frying pan on the stove (just be careful not to use too much oil, or the eggplant will acquire that dreaded sog factor). Finangle with the proportions of olive oil, balsamic, salt and pepper. Vegan? Nix the cheese, and toss in some nuts instead. Add, subtract, and mix up the greens in the salad, throw in fresh tomatoes instead of sundried, chuck in some olives if you’re feeling particularly sassy. This recipe can handle it. It’ll let you use and abuse it until the cows come home, and will still come through for you (deliciously, I might add) in the end. And that’s more than you can say about most things.
Call it a residual leftover from childhood. Maybe it’s cultural conditioning (not going to lie, I still harbor an immature…wariness of Brussels sprouts), maybe it was the time where I vividly remember almost choking to death on spinach as a kid (I’m not making this up), maybe I’m just not really anything that’s not drenched in salt, sugar, or butter. So sue me.
That being said, I’m not a completely unhealthy person. I’ve never deep-fried anything in my life. When I cook for myself, I'm mostly vegetarian. The majority of the things that I spy on This is Why You’re Fat makes my arteries feel more clogged just through visual consumption (though, handy tip: the site is an excellent appetite-suppressant if you are trying to hold out a little longer until your lunch hour at work).
I began to see the light that is the joy of salad consumption last year, largely due to the herbivorous impulses of my roommate, Maddie. I'm talking about a girl that practically has larger biceps from her salad-spinner usage alone. There were always various scary-looking unlabelled jars in our refrigerator full of unidentifiable leftover dressing (did I mention that she always made her own dressing? Because she did). Though I never made salads myself, I often was lucky enough to be around at the right time and place to poach the leftovers. And the same thought always occurred to me as I chewed on a forkful of romaine lettuce, spinach, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, garlic powder, salt, and pepper – this would be so easy to make! And it is.
The following salad is not the salad I remember from my youth. You know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about that pile of wilted iceberg lettuce salad that languished untouched at all-you-can-eat buffets, limply sporting a couple shreds of carrots and a few shriveled olives. The type of salad that you raced past in favor of loading your plate up with kiddie kryptonite (known colloquially as, "lime Jello").
No, this salad is the type of salad that you feel guilty about because it seems too good to be true. And then you realize that it isn’t, so you bring it home to meet your parents. This is a salad whose shoulder you can cry on when you didn’t get the job, who won’t judge you when you’re still in sweatpants at 4 PM, who will be there for you when you come home after a long day. Am I still talking about salad here? You be the judge.
Greek Pasta Salad with Roasted Vegetables
INGREDIENTS:
1 red bell pepper, julienned
1 eggplant, cubed
6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/3 cup sun-dried tomatoes
1 cup arugula
1 1/2 cup spinach
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons minced garlic
1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
8 oz (half package) pasta
DIRECTIONS:
Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Line a cookie sheet with foil.
In a medium bowl, toss the pepper and eggplant 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, salt, and pepper and pepper to taste. Arrange on the prepared cookie sheet. Bake vegetables 25 minutes in the preheated oven, tossing occasionally, until lightly browned.
In a large pot of salted boiling water, cook the pasta until al dente, and drain.
In a large bowl, toss together the roasted vegetables, cooked pasta, sun-drained tomatoes, arugula, and basil. Mix in remaining olive oil, balsamic vinegar, garlic, and feta cheese; toss to coat. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
My favorite thing about salad recipes is that it’s not like baking – you can add, subtract, and substitute anything in this recipe to suit what you already have, personal taste preferences, and time constraints. Depending on the time of TLC you want to put into it, this salad could take anywhere from 15 minutes to two hours to make. Don’t want to wait for the veggies to cook in the oven? Coat them lightly in olive oil and roast them on a frying pan on the stove (just be careful not to use too much oil, or the eggplant will acquire that dreaded sog factor). Finangle with the proportions of olive oil, balsamic, salt and pepper. Vegan? Nix the cheese, and toss in some nuts instead. Add, subtract, and mix up the greens in the salad, throw in fresh tomatoes instead of sundried, chuck in some olives if you’re feeling particularly sassy. This recipe can handle it. It’ll let you use and abuse it until the cows come home, and will still come through for you (deliciously, I might add) in the end. And that’s more than you can say about most things.
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