Evergreen Paleo Salad

There's something about a perfectly dressed salad that feels like you've figured out a small piece of life. I discovered this combination while meal-prepping on a quiet Sunday morning, humming along to the radio, when I realized I was reaching for the same tired ingredients week after week. That day, I grabbed whatever was fresh—handfuls of tender greens, a cucumber I'd been meaning to use, and the avocado that had ripened just in time. What started as necessity became something I now make whenever I want to feel nourished without fussing.

I made this for my sister last summer when she was visiting and mentioned feeling like she'd been eating the same thing for months. Watching her face light up when she took that first bite—when she noticed how crisp the vegetables still were, how the warm chicken contrasted with the cool greens—reminded me that sometimes the simplest food hits hardest.

Ingredients

• Chicken breasts: Two boneless, skinless ones give you lean protein that stays tender if you don't overcook it—and trust me, resting them for a few minutes after cooking makes all the difference.
• Baby spinach and mixed greens: A full 200 grams of them, which sounds like a lot until you toss the salad and realize how much they wilt down into nothing.
• Cucumber: One medium one, sliced thin so it stays crisp and doesn't waterlog the bowl.
• Avocado: Ripe but still firm—slice it just before assembling or it'll turn brown and sad.
• Fennel bulb: Shaved paper-thin on a mandoline or with a sharp knife; it adds a delicate licorice note that surprises people in the best way.
• Sugar snap peas: Raw and crispy, about a cup trimmed and ready to snap between your teeth.
• Fresh parsley and basil: Half a cup of parsley roughly chopped and a quarter cup of basil torn by hand—the bruising from a knife releases their oils, but there's something nicer about using your hands.
• Extra virgin olive oil: Three tablespoons for the dressing, the good kind you actually taste.
• Fresh lemon juice: Two tablespoons, freshly squeezed if you have the energy; bottled works if you don't.
• Dijon mustard: A teaspoon if you want it, optional but it adds a subtle tang that keeps everything from tasting too mild.
• Garlic: Just one small clove minced fine, because raw garlic announces itself loudly.
• Sea salt and black pepper: For seasoning the chicken and finishing the dressing.

Instructions

Get your pan hot and ready:

Heat a grill pan or skillet over medium-high heat until a drop of water sizzles on contact. This is where the magic starts—a hot surface means your chicken will develop a golden crust that actually tastes like something.

Season and sear the chicken:

Coat your breasts with a tablespoon of olive oil, then dust them generously with salt and pepper. Lay them in the pan and listen for that satisfying sizzle; don't move them for five to six minutes, then flip and give the other side the same treatment.

Let it rest:

Transfer the chicken to a plate and give it a few minutes to relax before slicing. This keeps the juices inside instead of running all over your cutting board, which I learned the hard way more than once.

Build your base:

Toss your spinach, mixed greens, cucumber, avocado, fennel, snap peas, parsley, and basil into a large bowl. Don't dress it yet—that's the kiss of death for crisp greens.

Make the dressing:

Whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, mustard if you're using it, minced garlic, salt, and pepper in a small bowl. Taste it before you pour—this is your chance to adjust it to what feels right to you.

Bring it all together:

Pour the dressing over the salad and toss gently but thoroughly, then crown it with your sliced chicken and serve right away. The salad stays best when everything is still cool and crisp.

Save

My neighbor saw me making this one evening and asked what I was doing that smelled so good. When I told her it was just grilled chicken and salad, she looked disappointed for a second before tasting it. She came back the next week asking for the recipe, and that's when I realized this simple thing had become a real meal, not just food.

Why Simplicity Wins

There's a certain peace in a salad that doesn't need you to perform tricks or follow complicated steps. The quality of what you choose matters more than how fancy you make it—fresh greens stay green, good oil tastes like itself, and a perfectly cooked piece of chicken speaks for itself. This is the kind of meal you can make on a Tuesday night without thinking too hard, but that somehow still feels intentional.

Dressing as the Main Character

That bright lemon dressing is doing the real work here. It wakes up every single vegetable, cuts through the richness of the avocado, and makes the whole thing feel fresh instead of heavy. I've made this salad with different proteins and different greens, but the dressing stays exactly the same because it works with everything. The garlic gives it a whisper of sharpness, the mustard adds a subtle sophistication, and the lemon is just bold enough to make you notice.

How to Make It Your Own

One of the best things about this salad is how forgiving it is. If you don't have fennel, use thin-sliced radishes for the crunch instead. If basil isn't in season, double down on the parsley or add fresh mint if you like something cooler. The structure stays solid no matter what you swap in, as long as you keep your greens fresh, your chicken properly cooked, and your dressing tasting bright.

• Toss in toasted almonds or walnuts if you want extra crunch and a nuttiness that plays beautifully with the greens.
• A handful of berries or pomegranate seeds adds a surprising sweetness that balances the savory greens.
• Make the dressing in a jar and shake it up just before serving if you're eating alone and want it on hand throughout the week.

Save

This salad has become my answer to the question of what to make when I want to feel nourished but not overwhelmed. It's the kind of meal that reminds you that eating well doesn't have to be complicated—just thoughtful.