Simplest Green Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette

Memorial Day. Backyard barbecue, just me and the kids and Brett and Claire. Small, simple, intentional. I grilled burgers — my burgers, my recipe now, not Scott's — and made potato salad and coleslaw and corn on the cob, the first of the season. The backyard was warm and green and Hank lay in the grass like a three-legged sphinx and the kids ran and Brett drank beer and Claire made a salad that was unnecessarily beautiful and I stood at the grill and thought: this is my life. This is the life I built from the wreckage of the one that broke. And it's good. Not perfect. Good is better than perfect. Good is real.

Mason's last week of first grade. He came home with a box of projects and papers and the emotional weight of leaving Mr. Adkins, who he considers the finest educator in human history. Mr. Adkins sent a note home: "Mason is a remarkable young man. Second grade is lucky to have him." I will add this to the file. The file of things people say about my son that make me believe I did something right, despite everything that went wrong.

Lily's preschool graduation was Thursday. She wore a paper cap and walked across a stage that was actually just the gym floor and received a diploma that was actually just a certificate printed on cardstock, and she held it up and grinned, and I sat in the audience and cried, because I am a professional crier at children's events and my reputation is well established. Rosa hugged me at the door. She said, "Lily is the most spirited child I've ever had." I said, "Is that a compliment?" She said, "Absolutely."

I called Dad on Memorial Day. He answered on the fourth ring, which means he was moving slowly to the phone. We talked for eight minutes — about the weather, about the Boise River level, about whether it would be a good year for the garden. We did not talk about his health or his knees or the fact that eight minutes is twice as long as Gary Dawson usually talks on the phone, which means he was lonely, and the extra four minutes were his way of not hanging up. I heard it. I didn't say it. Dawson people don't name the loneliness. They just stay on the phone a little longer.

I made s'mores with the kids over the grill after the burgers, using the charcoal that was still hot. Same as last year: marshmallows, chocolate, graham crackers, sticky fingers, Hank trying to eat fallen marshmallows. The tradition is repeating. The tradition is mine now. It doesn't belong to a marriage anymore. It belongs to a family of three and a dog and a woman who is building her life on the steady, reliable foundation of food and fire and the people who show up.

Claire brought a salad to that Memorial Day cookout that was, as I noted at the time, unnecessarily beautiful — the kind of salad that makes you feel like you should have tried harder. I asked her what she did to it and she shrugged and said “balsamic,” which is the most Claire answer possible. This is essentially that salad: greens, a sharp homemade vinaigrette, and the kind of simplicity that somehow reads as effort. I’ve made it three times since, and every time I think about that green backyard and Hank in the grass and the fact that a good life is mostly just good food and the right people showing up.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

6 cups mixed salad greens (such as romaine, arugula, or spring mix)
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1/2 English cucumber, thinly sliced
1/4 red onion, very thinly sliced
1/4 cup shaved Parmesan (optional but recommended)
For the Balsamic Vinaigrette:
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 small garlic clove, finely minced or grated
1/2 teaspoon honey or maple syrup
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
1/3 cup good-quality extra virgin olive oil

Instructions

Make the vinaigrette. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the balsamic vinegar, Dijon mustard, garlic, honey, salt, and pepper. Slowly drizzle in the olive oil while whisking constantly until the dressing is emulsified and slightly thickened. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
Prep the vegetables. Wash and dry the greens thoroughly — wet greens will dilute the dressing and no one wants that. Halve the cherry tomatoes, slice the cucumber, and separate the red onion rings.
Assemble the salad. Place the greens in a large salad bowl. Top with cherry tomatoes, cucumber, and red onion. If using Parmesan, scatter it over the top.
Dress and toss. Drizzle about half the vinaigrette over the salad and toss gently to coat. Add more dressing to taste — you may not need all of it. Serve immediately.
Serve. Transfer to a serving platter or serve directly from the bowl. This salad is best eaten right after dressing; if making ahead, keep the dressing separate until ready to serve.

Nutrition (per serving)

Simplest Green Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette — The One Claire Made That Was Unnecessarily Beautiful