Antipasto Salad Platter

New Year's Eve. 2024. The year we get married. Megan and I stayed home this year — no party, no bar, just us. She made champagne cocktails (her specialty) and I made a cheese board with all the Wisconsin cheeses I could find: aged cheddar, Colby, gouda, beer cheese, cheese curds. A cheese board in Wisconsin is not an appetizer. It's a statement of values.

At midnight, we kissed in the kitchen again. Our kitchen. The kitchen that's too small for two people. The kitchen where I learned to make pierogi. The kitchen where I told Megan I loved her. The kitchen where the ring was hidden in the coffee can. Every important moment of our relationship has happened in this kitchen. If we ever move — and we will move, because two people and eventually kids will not fit in seven hundred square feet — I will miss this kitchen the way you miss a first car. Impractical, uncomfortable, impossibly dear.

She said, "2024." I said, "2024." She said, "This is our year." I said, "Every year is our year." She said, "Don't be corny." I said, "I'm always corny." She kissed me again. Corn and all.

New Year's Day: hangover breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast, coffee. The ritual. The reset. I'm twenty-seven years old. In six months I'll be married. In twelve months I might be a father (though we haven't talked about timing, the possibility hovers, warm and terrifying and wonderful). In thirty years I'll be — I don't know what I'll be. Standing in a kitchen somewhere, probably. Making pierogi, probably. Humming, probably. That's enough of a plan. That's more than enough.

That cheese board I put together — the aged cheddar, the Colby, the gouda, the beer cheese, the curds — was less a recipe than an act of arrangement, which is exactly what an antipasto platter is. If you want to carry the spirit of that New Year’s Eve into your own kitchen, this is the one: a generous spread of cured meats, marinated vegetables, olives, and cheese that asks nothing of you except a little intention in how you lay it out. It’s the kind of food that says we are here, together, and that is the whole point — which felt exactly right going into the year Megan and I would get married.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 20 min | Servings: 6–8

Ingredients

4 oz thinly sliced salami or Genoa salami
4 oz thinly sliced prosciutto or capicola
4 oz fresh mozzarella, sliced or torn
4 oz provolone, sliced
1/2 cup marinated artichoke hearts, drained
1/2 cup roasted red peppers, sliced
1/2 cup Kalamata olives
1/2 cup green olives
1/4 cup pepperoncini peppers
1 cup cherry tomatoes
4 oz sharp aged cheddar or your favorite hard cheese, cubed
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Crusty bread, crackers, or crostini, for serving

Instructions

Prep the board. Choose a large wooden board, platter, or rimmed sheet pan. Give it a quick wipe and set it on a flat surface where guests can reach from all sides.
Arrange the meats. Fan out the salami and prosciutto in loose, overlapping folds across two sections of the board. Leave room between them for the other components.
Place the cheeses. Nestle the mozzarella slices, provolone, and cheddar cubes in clusters around the board, filling gaps between the meats.
Add the vegetables and olives. Spoon the artichoke hearts, roasted red peppers, olives, and pepperoncini into small piles or shallow bowls placed on the board. Scatter cherry tomatoes in any remaining spaces.
Dress and season. Drizzle the olive oil lightly over the artichokes, peppers, and mozzarella. Sprinkle Italian seasoning and a few grinds of black pepper over the whole board.
Add bread and crackers. Tuck crackers or crostini along the edges of the board, and set sliced crusty bread alongside. Serve immediately or cover loosely and refrigerate for up to 2 hours before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Antipasto Salad Platter — The Board That Rang In Our Year