← Back to Blog

Herb-Lovers Lemony Orzo Salad — When the Garden Starts Talking Back

Garden is growing. The tomatoes are knee-high and I've already staked them, the cages around them like little prisons that the plants will outgrow by July, pressing against the wire, reaching for the sun the way everything in Kentucky reaches for the sun in May — eagerly, greedily, after five months of not having enough.

The herbs are doing well. The basil is bushy, the thyme is spreading, the rosemary is standing straight and smelling like the Mediterranean, which is a long way from Harlan County but which grows in Kentucky soil just fine, which says something about adaptability that I'm probably supposed to apply to my own life.

Made a pasta with the basil Wednesday night — spaghetti with fresh tomato sauce, the tomatoes from the store because the garden tomatoes aren't ready yet, but the basil from the garden, torn and thrown in at the last minute, raw, the way James showed me. The basil changed the sauce from good to alive, from a recipe to a conversation between the garden and the stove. I'm learning. At fifty-six I'm learning that food can be more than the food Betty taught me, that the food Betty taught me is the foundation and not the ceiling, and that the ceiling is as high as I'm willing to reach.

Earl Thomas turned one year old April 12th. Travis and Jolene had a birthday party at their apartment — smash cake, balloons, the whole production. Earl Thomas ate the cake with both hands and his entire face, and I filmed it and I will show this video to his future wife at their wedding, which is twenty-five years from now but I'm already planning the toast.

That Wednesday night pasta — basil torn raw, thrown in at the last minute the way James showed me — cracked something open. So I went back to the herbs the very next day, this time with orzo and a good squeeze of lemon, leaning into what the garden was already offering. This Herb-Lovers Lemony Orzo Salad is the kind of dish that makes sense of a bushy basil plant: bright, simple, and honest about what it is, which is a celebration of the fact that something you grew yourself is finally ready to eat.

Herb-Lovers Lemony Orzo Salad

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 22 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/2 cups dry orzo pasta
  • 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
  • Zest and juice of 1 large lemon
  • 1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, roughly torn
  • 1/4 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
  • 2 tablespoons fresh chives, thinly sliced
  • 1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves
  • 1/2 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
  • 1/3 cup crumbled feta cheese
  • 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
  • Salt and freshly cracked black pepper, to taste

Instructions

  1. Cook the orzo. Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Add the orzo and cook according to package directions until al dente, about 9–11 minutes. Drain and rinse briefly under cold water to stop the cooking, then spread on a sheet pan to cool slightly.
  2. Make the lemon dressing. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lemon zest, and lemon juice. Season generously with salt and black pepper.
  3. Combine. Add the warm orzo to the bowl and toss to coat in the dressing. Let it sit for 2 minutes to absorb the flavors.
  4. Add the herbs and toppings. Fold in the basil, parsley, chives, thyme, and cherry tomatoes. Taste and adjust salt, pepper, and lemon juice as needed.
  5. Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving dish, scatter feta and red pepper flakes over the top, and finish with a drizzle of olive oil if desired. Serve warm, at room temperature, or chilled.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 10g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 46g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 290mg

Craig Hensley
About the cook who shared this
Craig Hensley
Week 422 of Craig’s 30-year story · Lexington, Kentucky
Craig is a retired coal miner from Harlan County, Kentucky — a man who spent twenty years underground and seventeen hours trapped in a collapsed tunnel before he was twenty-four. He moved his family to Lexington when the mine closed, learned to cook his mama Betty's Appalachian recipes from memory because she never wrote them down, and now he's trying to get them on paper before they're lost. He says "reckon" and "fixing to" and means both. His bourbon-glazed ribs are, according to his wife Connie, "acceptable" — which is the highest praise she gives.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?