Chicken Strip Salad

The family arrived on a Thursday. Sarah and Jim and Teddy and Finn, a car pulling up the drive in the late afternoon, Finn running across the lawn before Jim had fully stopped, Teddy getting out and doing the careful teenage walk that covers the fact that he was also glad to be here. They were brown from the sun already, Connecticut summer. I was brown from the garden. We looked like people who'd been outside all summer.

This is what I'd been waiting for since Thanksgiving. More than a year of carefully managed visits, carefully maintained distance, carefully negotiated contact, and now: a full two weeks, everyone vaccinated, the farm open. Finn ran to the kitchen to see what was on the stove. Teddy asked when we were starting the pasta. Jim carried in bags with the ease of a man who has been carrying bags into this house for fourteen years and knows exactly where things go.

Made a welcome dinner that was deliberately simple: grilled chicken thighs with herbs from the garden, corn on the cob, a tomato salad with fresh basil. Everything good, nothing elaborate. The kind of dinner that says: you're here, we're eating, this is enough. And it was enough. More than enough. Finn ate three pieces of corn and got butter on his eyebrow and nobody said anything.

I lay awake that night listening to the sounds of the house with people in it — the shower running upstairs, Finn talking in his sleep the way he does, the creak of the old floors. I had missed this. I had been managing well and I had been fine and I had missed this.

That Thursday dinner — the one with the butter on Finn’s eyebrow — has stayed with me all summer, and I’ve made some version of it almost every week since. What I keep coming back to is this Chicken Strip Salad: crisp, herb-flecked, bright with whatever the garden is offering, and simple enough that you can be present with the people around the table instead of hovering over the stove. It’s the recipe I reach for when something needs to feel like a homecoming without making a fuss about it.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts, sliced into strips
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
8 cups romaine lettuce, chopped
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1/2 cup cucumber, thinly sliced
1/4 cup red onion, thinly sliced
1/4 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
1/4 cup shaved Parmesan
3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 small garlic clove, minced

Instructions

Season the chicken. In a bowl, toss the chicken strips with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil, garlic powder, oregano, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper until evenly coated. Let sit for 5 minutes while the pan heats.
Cook the chicken. Heat a grill pan or large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken strips in a single layer and cook 5—6 minutes, turning once, until golden on the outside and cooked through with no pink remaining. Transfer to a cutting board and rest for 3 minutes.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil, red wine vinegar, Dijon mustard, and minced garlic until emulsified. Season with a pinch of salt and pepper to taste.
Assemble the salad. Spread the romaine across a large platter or divide among four bowls. Scatter the cherry tomatoes, cucumber, and red onion evenly over the top.
Add the herbs and chicken. Lay the warm chicken strips over the greens. Scatter the fresh basil and parsley across everything, then top with shaved Parmesan.
Dress and serve. Drizzle the dressing over the salad just before serving. Bring it to the table as-is — it’s meant to look a little undone.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken Strip Salad — The Welcome-Home Dinner That Said Everything