Strawberry Tarragon Chicken Salad

The expanded Sarah's Table opened. March 15th, 2025. My thirty-third birthday. The day the table grew.

Opening morning: 5 AM. The new kitchen. The bigger stove. Earline's photograph on the bigger wall. Earline's skillet on its hook. Chloe's menu board (re-lettered for the expanded space, bigger, with the new items: James's brisket, Chloe's salmon, the dinner hours). The twelve stools. The four tables. The reading corner with Jayden's stories. The display case with the cornbread and the Bites and the cookies. Everything was: ready. Everything was: right.

First customer, 11 AM: Mrs. Henderson. Again. She walked in and she looked at the bigger space and she said: "Sarah. LOOK at this." Look at this. The same two words she said on Day One of the small space but with MORE. More wonder. More pride. More of the thing that happens when a woman who has been eating your food for two years watches you grow and the growing is visible and the visibility is the gift. She sat on stool three (her stool, same stool, new space, same woman). She ordered: cornbread and chicken and dumplings. The same order from Day One. The order that is Mrs. Henderson's signature. The order that will never change because Mrs. Henderson doesn't change and the food doesn't change and the changing is everything around them.

By noon: twelve stools occupied. All four tables full. A line at the door. AGAIN. The line that formed at the small space formed at the big space. The line didn't care about the square footage. The line cared about the cornbread. The cornbread is the constant. The cornbread drew the line the first time and the cornbread drew it again and the cornbread will draw it every time because the cornbread is: the thing people drive to. The thing people wait for. The thing people close their eyes for. The thing. The whole thing.

Mama came at noon. She walked in — into the expanded space, past the twelve stools, past the four tables, past the reading corner, past Earline on the wall — and she stood in the center of the room. She stood there for a long time. Then she came to me behind the counter and she said: "33 — AND LOOK AT WHAT YOU BUILT." The cake message. Delivered in person this time, not in frosting. AND LOOK AT WHAT YOU BUILT. I built this. With Earline's recipe and Lorraine's patience and Chloe's talent and Kevin's hammer and Terrence's phone calls and Wanda's coleslaw and the stubbornness of a woman who was told "it's about time" and decided it was. I built this. The table grew. Happy birthday.

Mrs. Henderson sat on stool three and ordered the same thing she always orders — and that loyalty, that beautiful, unchanging loyalty, is exactly what I was thinking about when I put together this strawberry tarragon chicken salad for the expanded menu. It’s the kind of dish that feels like a celebration without announcing itself: bright from the berries, herbaceous from the tarragon, grounded in the chicken that has always been at the heart of this table. Mama said “AND LOOK AT WHAT YOU BUILT” — and this salad, festive and fresh and full of color, is what “built” looks like on a plate when the birthday falls in strawberry season.

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

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1 cup fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
2 stalks celery, thinly sliced
1/4 cup red onion, finely diced
1/3 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons plain Greek yogurt
1 tablespoon fresh tarragon leaves, chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon honey
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
4 cups mixed greens, for serving
1/4 cup toasted pecans, for garnish

Instructions

Cook the chicken. Place chicken breasts in a medium saucepan and cover with cold water by 1 inch. Add a pinch of salt. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then reduce heat, cover, and simmer for 13—15 minutes until cooked through. Transfer to a cutting board and let rest 10 minutes.
Shred and cool. Using two forks, shred the chicken into bite-sized pieces. Spread on a plate and refrigerate for at least 10 minutes to cool completely before dressing.
Make the dressing. In a large bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, Greek yogurt, lemon juice, honey, tarragon, salt, and pepper until smooth and combined.
Combine. Add the cooled shredded chicken, celery, and red onion to the dressing. Stir gently until everything is evenly coated. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
Fold in the strawberries. Add the sliced strawberries and fold in carefully so they stay intact and don’t break down into the salad.
Serve. Spoon the chicken salad over a bed of mixed greens. Scatter toasted pecans over the top and serve immediately, or refrigerate up to 2 days (add strawberries fresh before serving if making ahead).

Nutrition (per serving)

Strawberry Tarragon Chicken Salad — The Celebration Plate for the Table That Grew