Name: Greek Cabbage Salad
Prep time: 20 min
Total time: 20 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Greek
Ingredients: 1/2 medium green cabbage, about 500g, finely shredded (sometimes I just use the pre-shredded stuff from the store if I’m in a rush); 1 large carrot, peeled and grated (I swap in sliced radish if I have them, which is rare but fun); 1/2 red onion, thinly sliced—my grandmother always insisted on sweet onions, but I can’t tell much difference, frankly; 3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil (any good olive oil is fine, no need to go wild); Juice of 1 large lemon (about 3 tbsp, bottled works in a pinch but fresh is just… zingier); 1 tbsp red wine vinegar; 2 tbsp chopped fresh dill (parsley totally works if dill isn’t your thing); 1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese (sometimes I skip this if the fridge is nearly empty); 1/4 cup pitted Kalamata olives, halved (green olives work too, but it’s not the same vibe); Salt and black pepper, to taste

So, About This Greek Cabbage Salad

Alright, let me spill the beans—or the cabbage, really. Greek Cabbage Salad (or “Lahanosalata” if you want to sound a little posh, which I almost never do when I’m tossing it together) isn’t fancy. But it reminds me of that trip to Thessaloniki where I accidentally ordered a mountain of slaw and tried convincing myself it was “just what I wanted”—truth is, the second forkful, I actually kinda loved it. Somehow, it’s become my not-so-secret weapon for lazy lunches, potlucks, or when I need something fresh to balance out all the bits of cheese and bread I inevitably eat with it. My sister once called it “the crunchy salad with no lettuce that still feels like a salad”—and she’s not wrong.

Why You’ll Love This Salad (or at least, why I do)

I make this when I’m tired of leafy greens that wilt after an hour—cabbage can hang out, looking perky and outrageously crunchy for ages. My family goes a little wild for it with grilled fish, although I have to admit, my kid once picked around the olives for like fifteen straight minutes. (Oh! And it’s one of those rare salads that’s somehow even better the next day. Maybe that’s just me, but there’s something about the flavors mellowing out overnight—magic, honestly.) Plus, this doesn’t require the patience of a saint—no need to massage kale or anything ridiculous like that.

Here’s What Goes In (Substitutions totally allowed)

1/2 medium green cabbage, about 500g, finely shredded (sometimes I just use the pre-shredded stuff from the store if I’m in a rush)
1 large carrot, peeled and grated (I swap in sliced radish if I have them, which is rare but fun)
1/2 red onion, thinly sliced—my grandmother always insisted on sweet onions, but I can’t tell much difference, frankly
3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil (any good olive oil is fine, no need to go wild)
Juice of 1 large lemon (about 3 tbsp, bottled works in a pinch but fresh is just… zingier)
1 tbsp red wine vinegar
2 tbsp chopped fresh dill (parsley totally works if dill isn’t your thing)
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese (sometimes I skip this if the fridge is nearly empty)
1/4 cup pitted Kalamata olives, halved (green olives work too, but it’s not the same vibe)
Salt and black pepper, to taste

Let’s Make It! (Directions, Ish)

Start with the cabbage: toss it into a large bowl—big enough so you’re not chasing shreds everywhere. Sprinkle over a generous pinch of salt and, using your hands, give it a good squeeze or two (this softens it a smidge but keeps it crunchy). Don’t worry if it looks weird or wilty at first—it perks up.
Add the grated carrot and sliced onion. If onions get too fierce, just soak them for 5 minutes in cold water and drain, it’s a trick I learned the hard way.
In a mug or small bowl, whisk together olive oil, lemon juice, and red wine vinegar. I sometimes just eyeball it all and taste as I go because, let’s be real, precision here isn’t life or death.
Pour the dressing over the veggies. Toss everything like you mean it—this is where I usually sneak a taste (and tweak the salt or add more lemon if it feels flat).
Add the dill, feta, and olives. Toss again. Don’t overmix or it gets a bit messy-looking (but still tastes great, honestly).
Grind on some black pepper. Maybe a pinch more salt. Taste. Done!

Notes from My Many Salad Experiments

I used to skip salting the cabbage, but actually, I find it makes a huge difference in texture.
Red onions look pretty but are slightly bossier in flavor—if you want mellow, go for white.
If your feta crumbles end up everywhere, just call it “rustic.” No one actually minds.

Variations I’ve Tried (and Some I Regret)

I swapped dill for mint once—kind of wild, not bad but a little too toothpastey for me. Parsley is safer.
Sometimes I toss in thin slices of cucumber or even red bell pepper for more crunch. Not traditional, but hey, no one’s policing my salad bowl.
Once, on a dare, I tried adding raisins. Would not recommend unless you’re into confusing salads.

Do You Need Fancy Equipment?

Honestly, a basic sharp knife will do. I used to think you needed a mandolin for those super-fine strips, but actually, I find it easier just to go slow with a knife. If you have a food processor, sure, use it, but don’t stress—if all else fails, a bag of pre-shredded cabbage is not going to ruin your reputation.

How To Store (But Mine Never Lasts That Long)

Stick leftovers in a lidded container in the fridge. It’s good for 2 days, but it really peaks around 24 hours (though, honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! Someone always sneaks a midnight forkful). If it gets watery, just drain off the excess and toss again.

My Favorite Ways to Serve

I love this alongside roasted chicken or tucked next to grilled salmon—you can pile it into pita too (my uncle swears by that with a bit of tzatziki). Sometimes I just eat it standing at the counter, straight from the bowl, which is maybe less traditional but very me.

Pro Tips (a.k.a. Oops Moments)

I once tried rushing the dressing and dumped everything in without whisking—turns out, it really does taste better if you mix before you pour.
Over-salting at the start is a rookie mistake I’ve made. Start small, add more at the end; trust me, too salty cabbage is a hard sell.
Chilling the salad for like 30 minutes before serving helps the flavors meet each other, unless you’re starving, of course.

FAQ – Yes, I’ve Actually Been Asked These

Can I make this ahead?
Absolutely. In fact, I think it tastes even better after a few hours in the fridge—just toss it again before serving. But try to add the feta and olives closer to serving time so everything’s not mushy, unless you like it that way.

Do I have to use dill?
Nope, swap with parsley, or just skip it. I’ve gone herb-less on accident before—it still works.

What if I hate olives?
I mean, that’s your call! Omit them. Maybe add some thin-sliced celery or even sundried tomatoes for a punch. Or just leave it simple, no judgment here.

Why does my cabbage taste bitter?
This sometimes happens with older cabbages or from over-salting. Add more lemon (and next time, taste the cabbage before you start—learned that one the hard way).

Can this be vegan?
Yeah! Just leave out the feta, or use a vegan alternative. Easy peasy.

Actually, now that I think about it, I’ve even tucked leftovers into an omelette. Not exactly Greek, but it hits the spot!

Greek Cabbage Salad