Every Salad Ever: From Grains to Greens and Pasta to Beans Plus Every Salad in Betweens($25.38Value)

Description

Upgrade your salad game with 100 fresh and fabulous recipes from bestselling cookbook author Greta Podleski—perfect for weeknight dinners, meal-prep lunches, holiday sides and Sunday brunches, with plenty of gluten-free, dairy-free and vegan options. With over 100 relatable, reliable, and ridiculously tasty recipes—each with a gorgeous, full-page photo— Every Salad Ever is the ultimate collection of flavor-packed, good-for-you salads for any occasion. Whether you’re craving a bright and fresh summer side, a cozy fall creation or a showstopper guaranteed to impress at your next dinner party, this is your go-to guide for endlessly creative and deliciously inspiring salads. Meal-prep marathon? Mediterranean Lentil & Chickpea Salad and Tex-Mex Quinoa Salad are make-ahead winners! - Eating high protein and high fiber? Try the Tuscan Tuna & White Bean Salad and the High-Protein Chicken Salad. - Potluck coming up? Take the Mexican Street Corn Pasta Salad or the Italian Chopped Salad and come back with an empty bowl. - Holiday gathering? Your guests will devour the Kale, Brussels Sprouts & Broccoli Slaw or Holiday Grain Salad. - Salad skeptics? Not anymore! Dig into the Chicken BLT Pasta Salad and the Steak, Tomato & Avocado Salad. Filled with fresh ideas, bold flavors, and Greta’s signature casual style, this cookbook serves up Every Salad recipe you’ll Ever need. Greta Podleski is the author of five #1 national bestselling cookbooks, winning the Taste Canada Awards Gold for her 2017 smash hit Yum & Yummer. Together with her sister Janet, Greta co-authored four blockbuster bestselling cookbooks: Looneyspoons; Crazy Plates; Eat, Shrink & Be Merry; and The Looneyspoons Collection, with combined sales of over two million copies. Her incredible self-publishing success story and outrageously delicious healthy recipes have been featured on national TV and radio shows and in major media outlets across Canada and the United States. Greta lives on Lake Huron with her best buddy and faithful kitchen companion, King Rico, the rescue dog. Introduction I had a dream. I was seated in the studio audience watching the taping of an episode of Friends . Monica was standing in her funky apartment kitchen, whipping up a recipe from Every Salad Ever. Chandler, seated at the table, picked up my cookbook and thumbed through it with exaggerated flair. “Could there BE any more salads in here?” He slammed the book shut with mock drama just as Joey walked in. “Hey, Mon, what’s for dinner?” Joey asked, sniffing the air like a hound on the scent. Without missing a beat, Chandler replied, “Take a wild guess. It starts with ‘sal’ and ends with ‘ad.’ ” Joey frowned. “Salad? Salads are for sissies! I like MAN FOOD!” He pounded his chest with his fist like Tarzan. Monica rolled her eyes and handed Joey a heaping bowl of my Loaded Italian Pasta Salad. “Well, you’re in luck, Joey. This one’s got pasta, salami and cheese—basically your three food groups.” Joey stared at the salad, his eyes wide with delight. Cradling the bowl like a long-lost love, he delivered his classic line in his trademark flirty tone, “How YOU doin’?” The audience roared with laughter, and I woke up with a smile, thinking, If it’s good enough for Joey Tribbiani, it’s good enough for the world! I’m obsessed with Friends , and I’m equally obsessed with salads. Back in the ’70s, when Mom made salad for me and my five sisters, we knew exactly what we were getting: iceberg lettuce, a few token tomato wedges (Did grape tomatoes even exist?) and some grated carrots for color. That was the holy trinity of homemade salads—there were no frills, no surprises and certainly no arugula. As for dressing? We had three choices: bottled Ranch, French or Thousand Island. I’ve never understood the appeal of Thousand Island dressing. Besides, isn’t it a burger sauce? French and Ranch weren’t my faves either, but one day Catalina entered my life and changed everything. It was like French dressing’s sassier, spicier cousin—the one with tattoos and an attitude. It was a sweet-and-tangy red elixir that somehow made even the most basic iceberg salad feel more gourmet—at least to me. Suddenly, salads weren’t just a mandatory side dish; they were something to look forward to. Potlucks and family gatherings had their own lineup of salads, with most containing more mayo than vegetables. My mom made all the creamy classics: potato salad (extra dill pickles, of course), coleslaw (with cabbage from our garden) and macaroni salad (with a generous scoop of Miracle Whip and a sprinkle of paprika for that “fancy” touch). These were the salads we gobbled up at every barbecue, every holiday and every family get-together. (Come to think of it, a meal in the ʼ70s wasn’t complete unless one dish had mayonnaise binding it together.) Special occasions meant busting out the four-bean salad or, if you really wanted to impress, you’d serve a molded gelatin “sal