Skinny Cobb Salad

Sarah and Jim and the boys arrived on Saturday. Finn is seven now and has developed an opinion about everything in the kitchen — he wanted to know about every pot on the stove, every jar on the shelf, every tool on the counter. I told him: that's a mandoline, don't touch it. He asked: why? I said: it's sharp enough to cut without warning. He considered this and said: but then why do you have it? I said: because some cuts are worth making carefully.

Teddy walked in and went directly to the knife block, selected the chef's knife I'd given him two years ago, and did a quick check of the edge with his thumbnail, the way a cook checks a knife. He said: needs sharpening. I said: it's on the counter. He got out the stone and sharpened it before he did anything else. I watched this without commenting. The progress was eloquent without commentary.

The first day's dinner I made deliberately simple: a big tomato salad from the garden, grilled chicken thighs with herbs, corn from the farm stand. The welcome dinner should be the ingredients of the place speaking directly, not the cook showing off. They're here for the farm as much as for me. The farm should be the first taste.

Teddy said: can we do the wellington this week? I said: we can do it Thursday. He said: why Thursday? I said: because that gives us Sunday and Monday and Tuesday to properly prepare. He said: what do we do Sunday? I said: go buy the tenderloin and look at what we're working with. He said: and Monday? I said: make the duxelles and the pâté layer. He was writing this down. On paper. In a notebook. I said nothing about the notebook. The notebook is exactly right.

That first-night dinner—the tomato salad, the grilled chicken, the corn—was really just a Cobb salad waiting to be assembled. Everything from the garden and the farm stand, arranged on a plate so the place itself could say hello. This Skinny Cobb is how I’d do it again: lighter on the dressing, heavier on the tomatoes, and simple enough that even Finn couldn’t find a question I couldn’t answer about it.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 1 lb total)
1 tablespoon olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
8 cups chopped romaine lettuce
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
2 hard-boiled eggs, chopped
4 slices turkey bacon, cooked and crumbled
1 avocado, diced
1/4 cup crumbled blue cheese
2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives
3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon honey

Instructions

Season and grill the chicken. Brush chicken breasts with 1 tablespoon olive oil and season generously with salt and pepper. Grill over medium-high heat for 6–7 minutes per side, until the internal temperature reaches 165°F. Let rest 5 minutes, then slice thinly.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together red wine vinegar, Dijon mustard, extra-virgin olive oil, and honey until emulsified. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Assemble the salad. Divide the chopped romaine among four plates or shallow bowls. Arrange the sliced chicken, tomatoes, chopped eggs, turkey bacon, avocado, and blue cheese in neat rows over the lettuce.
Dress and serve. Drizzle the vinaigrette over each salad and garnish with fresh chives. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Skinny Cobb Salad — The Welcome Dinner the Farm Deserves