Chickpea Salad Sandwich

ByOlivia Coleman October 3, 2025

A Chickpea Salad Sandwich Story (And a Little Rambling)

You know those days when you open your fridge, stare at its underwhelming emptiness, and feel your creativity completely flatline? That’s when this Chickpea Salad Sandwich swoops in to save my bacon (well, not actual bacon, but you get the idea). I honestly think I started making this out of pure desperation during a particularly tight grocery week—my cupboards looked like the opening scene of a cooking competition: random cans, half a sad lemon, and, if memory serves, some questionably old celery. But now? It’s become a legit favorite, especially when the weather gets warm and I can’t be bothered firing up the stove. Oh, and the first time I made it, my sister accused me of just mashing up hummus and calling it new. Rude, but here we are.

Why You’ll Love This (Or at Least Not Hate It)

I make this whenever I want lunch to feel like not a chore. My partner—who claims to “not like chickpeas” (yeah, right)—actually asks for seconds. My family goes a bit bonkers for it on picnics, and even my skeptical neighbor ended up bookmarking it (she said “for emergencies”… but I saw her make it again the next week). This thing’s quick, barely makes a mess, and is forgiving, so it’s pretty hard to ruin unless you actually forget the chickpeas. Plus, if something runs out, the whole thing still works. (Sort of.)

Here’s What You’ll Need (Don’t Panic)

1 can chickpeas (about 400g, drained & rinsed) – I use whatever brand’s cheapest or, if I’m feeling fancy, homemade ones from dried
2-3 tablespoons mayo (or plain Greek yogurt, or that vegan stuff—honestly, they all work)
1 stalk celery, diced – I sometimes skip this if it’s gone floppy, or sub bell pepper for some crunch
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard – I’ve used yellow in a pinch and lived to tell the tale
1-2 teaspoons lemon juice (half a lemon-ish) – bottled is fine, though my grandma would probably haunt me for saying that
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley (or dill, or skip it honestly)
Salt & black pepper to taste
A handful of pickles chopped small (or relish, or skip if pickles aren’t your jam)
Bread, any kind, toasted or not (Ciabatta is nice, but supermarket sliced works fine—I know because half the time I grab the store brand ‘thick cut’)

How To Throw This Together (With Minimal Stress)

Mash the chickpeas: Dump them in a big-ish bowl. Use a potato masher, fork, or, in a pinch, even the bottom of a sturdy mug. You want them partly mashed but not baby food. This is where I usually sneak a taste—just to, you know, check for bean quality.
Add the creamy stuff: Mayonnaise and mustard go in next, plus the lemon juice. If it looks a bit weird at this stage, don’t worry; it always does. Stir it around until you can’t see any globs.
Toss in the crunchy bits: Celery, pickles, herbs, anything you’re using, throw them in now. Give it all a good stir. Actually, I find it works better if you chop everything nice and small—sometimes I get lazy and regret it when there’s a surprise pickle chunk.
Taste and season: Salt, pepper, a splash more lemon or a dab of hot sauce if you like it spicy. I have been known to overdo the lemon, so, you know, taste as you go.
Sandwich time: Slap it onto bread. Add lettuce or some sliced tomato if you’re feeling energetic. Or just eat it straight out of the bowl—I won’t tell. Serious Eats does a similar version if you want to compare notes.

Stuff I Wish I Knew Earlier (Notes from the Trenches)

If you mash too much, the texture gets pasty. On second thought, I actually like it a bit chunky for bite.
Don’t skimp on salt—canned chickpeas are odd like that, they need a good pinch.
You can make it fully plant-based with vegan mayo or tahini (tahini makes it taste nutty, which is… interesting).
Letting it sit for 10 minutes really does help the flavors, though I rarely have the patience.

Variations I’ve Foisted On My Family

Add curry powder for a curried version (good, but my mom said “never again” so… up to you)
Mix in diced apple for sweetness (this one actually works, surprisingly)
Sriracha instead of mustard if you like things with a kick
I once tried it with sun-dried tomatoes; turned out weirdly tangy, so maybe just a tiny bit if you want to experiment

If You Don’t Have a Potato Masher (Been There, Mate)

I used a fork for years, but an empty, clean jar can work in a pinch. Or your fist, if you fancy a workout (kidding—sort of). Don’t overthink it.

Storing Your Masterpiece

In an airtight container (old takeaway box, in my case), it’ll last two-ish days in the fridge, but to be honest, in my house it never survives past lunch. If you do make extra, I think it tastes better the next day but that’s probably just me. Don’t freeze though—the texture gets, well, peculiar.

How I Like To Serve It (You Do You)

I love mine plopped onto rustic bread with a little lettuce and just a touch of cracked black pepper. My sister eats it on crackers if she’s in a rush, and my nephew thinks it’s hilarious to eat it out of a pita pocket like an “edible envelope”. Occasionally, I’ll even scoop it onto cucumber rounds for something that seems healthy.

Blunders I’ve Made (And What You Can Learn)

You really need to drain the chickpeas well, or the sandwich ends up soggy and sad
I tried rushing the mashing step once with a blender—the result: a strange paste. Not recommended unless you like eating spackle
More pickles does not always mean more flavor. Trust me (I learned this the funny way)

FAQs People Actually Ask Me (And My Honest Answers)

Can I use dried chickpeas? Yep, but soak and cook them first, obvs. (Takes a bit longer but tastes fresh.)
What if I hate mayo? Use yogurt or that fancy vegan mayo—or skip and use olive oil for a lighter vibe.
Is this gluten free? If your bread is! The salad part is, so you’re sorted there.
Make ahead? Totally—actually, it seems to get better the next day (unless you eat it all at once, which… yeah).
Can I double it? For sure, but use a really big bowl (learned this the messy way)
Do kids eat this? Mine did—even the one that claims to hate beans. Try smashing it smoother for picky eaters.

So there you have it. The humble Chickpea Salad Sandwich, which, if you ask me, is kind of like a culinary Swiss Army knife: simple, adaptable, and always there when you need it. And if you somehow have leftovers, try stirring a little into a green salad or spoon onto baked potatoes—it’s magic. If you make it, let me know if you come up with a version even my mother would approve of (so far, it’s just me she trusts with the chickpeas).

Olivia Coleman