Greek Salad

The Greek salad has no lettuce. It is not a dressed salad in the Western sense — it is chunks of vegetable and cheese dressed simply with oil, vinegar, and dried oregano. Simplicity is the point.

Cut the tomatoes into large wedges. Slice the cucumber in half lengthways, scoop out the seeds with a spoon if they are watery, and cut into thick half-moons. Slice the red onion thinly.

Combine the tomatoes, cucumber, and red onion in a bowl. Add the olives. Place the feta in a single block on top — do not crumble it. The feta sits on the salad; it gets broken at the table.

Drizzle the olive oil over everything. Add the red wine vinegar. Season with black pepper and a small amount of salt (the feta and olives are already salty). Scatter the dried oregano over the top.

Serve immediately. This salad does not hold — the tomatoes release liquid and the cucumber softens quickly.

Method

The Greek salad is a raw vegetable plate, not a dressed salad — there is no tossing, no emulsion, and no wilting. It trades the restraint of mediterranean-cuisine for the directness of high-quality ingredients left mostly to themselves. Oil and vinegar coat rather than saturate. The feta sits unbroken on top. This works because ripe tomatoes and good olives carry enough flavour that dilution would only weaken them.

Cut the tomatoes into large wedges — eight pieces per fruit, working around the core to preserve juiciness. The wedge matters: it sheds less liquid than dice and holds its shape through serving. Halve the cucumber lengthways and scoop out the watery seed cavity with a spoon — this step prevents the salad from becoming a pool of diluted juice within ten minutes. Cut the halves into thick half-moons at a slight angle. Slice the red onion as thinly as you can; the thin blade catches the acid and becomes less harsh. Don't blanch it. The bite is intentional.

Assemble in a shallow bowl or on a plate: tomatoes, cucumber, and onion first, then scatter the Kalamata olives across. This is salad but not the tossed kind. Place the feta as a single block — 200 g is substantial enough to stay intact — directly on top of the vegetables. It will not melt at room temperature; it will soften slightly and become easier to break with a fork. This is the point: the eater portions the cheese themselves, controlling the ratio bite by bite.

Drizzle the extra virgin olive oil — use a good one, fruity rather than buttery — over everything, then the red wine vinegar in a thin stream. The vinegar's acidity cuts the oil's weight and brightens the tomato's sweetness. Season with black pepper — a generous grind — and a small pinch of salt only; both the feta and the olives are already heavily salted. Scatter the dried oregano last. It hydrates slightly from the oil and vinegar, releasing its anise notes.

Serve immediately. The salad's life is short. After fifteen minutes the tomatoes weep, the cucumber softens, and the feta begins to weep in sympathy. There is no salvaging it. The point is to eat it fresh, cold, and intact.