Greek Bean Salad

Greek Bean Salad and the Day I Ran Out of Olives

So, imagine this: it’s a hot afternoon, I’ve got friends coming over, and—oops—I’m halfway through making my Greek Bean Salad when I realize I’m out of olives. Total facepalm, right? Anyway, this salad has saved my skin (or at least my dinner plans) more times than I’d care to admit. And honestly, whenever I need something that’s nutritious but doesn’t require chef’s credentials (because who really has time for that every night?), this is what I reach for. Sometimes my cat watches me chop cucumbers with such disdain you’d think she was Gordon Ramsay. But she doesn’t get any, so joke’s on her.

Why I Keep Making This Salad (And My Family’s Two Cents)

I make this when my fridge is a bit of a graveyard and I need something fresh in a hurry. My family goes nuts for it because it’s crunchy, tangy, herby—just a colourful mess (the fun kind, not the sad leftover kind). Also, I actually didn’t used to like beans (don’t tell my mother-in-law; she’d probably faint), but after tweaking the dressing enough times, I think I finally cracked the code. Oh, and you can totally double this for a potluck. Just be ready for that one relative to ask for the recipe and then “forget” to bring your Tupperware back.

If You’ve Got These on Hand, You’re Halfway There

• 2 cans mixed beans (about 400g each)—sometimes I just use cannellini or chickpeas if that’s all I’ve got. My grandmother would insist on soaking dried beans overnight, but honestly, supermarket cans are fine
• 1 large cucumber, chopped (if you’re in a pinch, baby cucumbers work too, or even a green pepper)
• 250g cherry tomatoes, halved—or, on a good day, those big heirloom tomatoes, roughly cut up
• 1 red onion, thinly sliced (though honestly, I sometimes skip it when I can’t be bothered with onion tears)
• 100g feta cheese, crumbled (Trader Joe’s feta is decent, but anything will do—it’s salad, not rocket science)
• Handful of Kalamata olives, pitted and halved (or skip ’em if, like me that day, you ran out)
• Fresh parsley (or honestly, a little dried oregano chucked in will work in a pinch)
• 3-4 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil (don’t stress if it’s not the fancy stuff)
• Juice of 1 lemon (or a splosh of vinegar if you’re lemonless—yep, I’ve done it)
• Salt and pepper to taste

Putting It All Together (Mess Welcome)

1. Dump your beans in a colander, rinse ’em under cold water, drain really well—shake ‘em about a bit like you’re waking them up. This is where I usually sneak a bite to check if the beans are soft enough. It’s a weird habit, but hey, live a little.
2. Chuck the chopped cucumber, halved tomatoes, and sliced onion in a big bowl—use the biggest you have. Trust me, things get rowdy at this stage.
3. Add the beans, feta, olives (if you managed to have any—no judgment), and most of the parsley. Hold back a sprinkle for later, it looks a bit fancy.
4. Drizzle over the olive oil and squeeze in the lemon juice. Sprinkle salt, crack some pepper, and then—this is the important bit—use clean hands or two big spoons to tumble everything together. Don’t worry if the feta gets a bit smeary, that’s the joy. If it looks odd now, promise, it sorts itself out once it sits.
5. Taste. Does it need more zip? Maybe a bit more lemon or a glug of vinegar. On second thought, I usually toss it in the fridge for 30 mins if I have time—flavours mix better that way (though sometimes patience just isn’t there).
6. Give a final sprinkle of parsley. Serve or nibble straight from the bowl (I won’t tell).

Notes That Took Me a Few Tries to Figure Out

• Don’t skip rinsing the beans—believe me, I did once and it was way too salty, kind of like that one uncle who overshares at family dinners.
• If you let it sit overnight, I really do think it tastes even better. The beans soak everything up and get all zippy, I swear.
• Once, I tried making it with those tiny pickled onions. Would not recommend—unless you love being overwhelmingly vinegary.

Variations (And One That Was a Bit of a Flop)

• I swapped chopped roasted red peppers for the tomatoes once—surprisingly good, adds a little smoke, though the salad does get moister (in a good way, I guess?).
• Grilled zucchini as an add-in: works like a charm, especially if you’ve got leftover from a BBQ.
• Tried adding tuna for a bit of protein—my kids loved it, but I wasn’t wild about the texture combo. Maybe that’s just me?
• I admit I once added cooked pasta, aiming for a pasta salad vibe. It just got gloopy. Not my best work.

What You’ll Actually Need (and What to Use if You Don’t Have It)

• Big mixing bowl—if you only have a pot? Go for it. I’ve done it; nobody cares once they taste it.
• Colander or sieve. Or, if you really must, just your hands and a lot of patience draining beans in the sink (not ideal but I’ve been there.)
• Good knife for chopping—though, in a pinch, I’ve broken tomatoes by hand. Rustic, right?
• Salad servers or really just two spoons. I once used a spatula and a fork. It was fine.

How It Keeps (or…Why It Probably Won’t)

Store covered in the fridge—it’ll last a good 2–3 days, maybe a bit longer if you haven’t tossed in lettuce or anything leafy. But honestly, in my house it doesn’t survive the night; my partner will polish it off before bedtime. If you want it cold and crisp, just give it a stir before serving again.

How I Serve This (And a Digression About Picnics)

Honestly, I almost always plop a big spoonful next to grilled chicken or fish. For vegetarian nights, it’s amazing with herby flatbreads (which, if you haven’t already, check out this Greek flatbread recipe). Also, this salad travels like a dream—it’s been to more picnics than I have. Once, I forgot napkins entirely, but my friend Tess had wet wipes, so all was well. My kids say it’s the only salad they don’t roll their eyes at.

Pro Tips I Learned the Hard Way

• Don’t rush the lemon-olive oil step. I’ve splashed everything in at once and it sort of sat there instead of melding. Now I mix lemon and oil first in a mug and drizzle, which for some reason, just works better.
• If you try tossing in hot beans (been there, forgot to let them cool), the feta kind of melts into weird clumps. Not pleasant. Cool beans first. Always.
• It’s tempting to go heavy on the onion for zing, but trust me, raw onion’s a bit of a loose cannon—less is more.

FAQ—Because People Actually Ask Me These Things

Can I make this ahead?

Yep, and actually, I think it tastes better the next day. Just hold off on the feta and parsley until before serving.

Can I use different beans?

For sure—try kidney, butter beans, black-eyed peas. Whatever you’ve got will probably work (except maybe baked beans. Learned that the hard way!).

Can I skip the olives/feta?

Of course, just add a bit more salt or another tangy thing—it’s forgiving, like a good pair of jeans. Or try capers, which are weirdly good.

And on a completely unrelated note, did you know some people call this type of salad a “peasant dish”? Which, in my opinion, just makes it sound fancier. If you want to read about traditional Greek cooking, you might enjoy these posts from Olive Tomato. Also, Greek food in general is a crowd-pleaser, so don’t overthink it—beans, crunch, zing. Done.