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Feta Garbanzo Bean Salad — The Last of the Garden, Before the Season Turns

September. The scouting season in earnest now — I've been up to the Crazies twice more since the August trip, getting to know this year's specific animal. There's a bull working the south drainage, smaller than the six-point from previous years but a mature animal with a good rack and established territory. He's using a different water source than the spring, which means a different position, which means learning the new approach. I like the learning part. Every year the mountain teaches you something you couldn't know until you showed up that specific year and watched carefully.

Posted the fifth magazine column this week — the planting and trust essay. The editor called it the best one yet. The response included a letter from a seed company in Vermont that wants to quote it in their spring catalog. I told the editor to negotiate that; she said she'd handle it. These complications are the good kind of complication.

Tom Whelan is writing faster now that the structure is set. He called Tuesday to read me a section about a mule named Patience — not the rescue horse from the facility, different Patience — who had been the most frustrating and eventually the most instructive animal he'd worked with in forty years. The section was funny in the way that Tom's writing is occasionally and perfectly funny: bone dry, built through specific detail, the humor arriving not from jokes but from the accumulation of true things. He's become a real writer. I should say that to him more directly than I usually do.

Made a pot of minestrone to last the week. September minestrone uses the end-of-summer garden: tomatoes, zucchini, green beans, corn. The last of each thing going into the pot together, the summer in a bowl for the last time before the fall vegetables take over. I make it every September. It tastes like the season closing properly.

The minestrone is the main act in September, but it needs something beside it — something cold and bright that uses the same garden but doesn’t ask you to cook anything twice. This feta garbanzo bean salad has been that thing for me. Tomatoes, cucumber, a sharp hit of red onion, the garbanzo beans giving it enough substance to call it a meal alongside the soup. It takes ten minutes and tastes like you meant it.

Feta Garbanzo Bean Salad

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 15 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 2 cans (15 oz each) garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
  • 1 English cucumber, diced
  • 1/2 cup red onion, finely diced
  • 1/2 cup Kalamata olives, halved
  • 4 oz feta cheese, crumbled
  • 1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
  • 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
  • 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
  • Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Instructions

  1. Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, red wine vinegar, lemon juice, minced garlic, and oregano. Season with salt and pepper.
  2. Combine the salad. In a large bowl, add the garbanzo beans, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, red onion, and olives. Toss gently to combine.
  3. Dress and finish. Pour the dressing over the salad and toss until everything is evenly coated. Add the crumbled feta and parsley, then fold in gently so the feta stays in distinct pieces.
  4. Let it sit. Refrigerate for at least 15 minutes before serving to let the flavors come together. The salad improves over several hours and keeps well for two days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 13g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 8g | Sodium: 620mg

Ryan Gallagher
About the cook who shared this
Ryan Gallagher
Week 337 of Ryan’s 30-year story · Billings, Montana
Ryan is a thirty-one-year-old Army veteran and ranch hand in Billings, Montana, who cooks over open fire because microwaves feel dishonest and because the quiet of a campfire is the only therapy that works for him consistently. He hunts his own elk, catches his own trout, and makes a camp stew that tastes like the mountains smell. He doesn't talk much. But his food says everything.

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