
Smashed cucumbers, bruised on purpose
The salad you'll make unprompted. Bring a heavy knife.
At a Glance
Story
This is pai huang gua, the smashed cucumber of northern China, and the smashing is the whole point, not a party trick. A cucumber whacked apart tears along its natural seams into craggy, porous rubble, and every one of those rough faces grabs dressing that would just slide off a clean knife cut. The salting that follows is the second half of the same idea, it draws out the cucumber's water so the dressing you add later stays a dressing and not a puddle.
Ingredients
- 1 English cucumber
- 1 tsp kosher salt
- 2 cloves garlicfinely grated
- 1 tbsp rice vinegar
- 1 tbsp soy sauce
- 2 tsp toasted sesame oil
- 1 tbsp chili crisp
- 1 tsp sugar
- ¼ tsp MSGoptional, though I never skip it
- toasted sesame seeds and cilantroto finish
Method
You resist salads on principle. You'll make this one twice a week. Cold, garlicky, savage with chili crisp. A benchmark.
- Lay the cucumber on a board and whack it with the flat of a heavy knife or a rolling pin until it splits along its length, then tear it into rough bite-size pieces. Ragged is correct. Neat is a waste of a good cucumber.
- Toss the pieces with the salt in a colander and leave them to drain 15 minutes. Then press gently and blot properly dry, this is where a watery salad is won or lost.
- Whisk the garlic, rice vinegar, soy, sesame oil, chili crisp, sugar and MSG into a quick dressing. Taste, it should be sharp, salty and a little sweet all at once.
- Dress the cucumbers only just before serving, since the salt keeps pulling water the longer they sit in it. Pile them up, shower with sesame seeds and cilantro.
You can smash and salt the cucumbers a few hours ahead and keep them blotted and chilled, but hold the dressing until the last minute.
More to cook

A lasagna with a short fuse
The golden lasagna's wilder sister, all smoky sausage and charred poblano with a chipotle streak, cooled by a lime drizzle.

Golden lasagna
A carrot lasagna so light you could eat the lot and still fancy pudding.

Spatchcock chicken over leeks and greedy bread
One bird on a bed of leeks, and torn baguette underneath drinking up every drop.

The tomato pasta worth the airfare
Three kinds of tomato, a whisper of anchovy and enough lemon to keep it honest.

Bagna cauda for the anchovy-shy
The warm garlic and anchovy bath that quietly wins every party. Melting, not fishy, and gone before the coats are off.

Chunky chimichurri for steak night
Parsley, oregano, garlic and vinegar, chopped not blended. The steak's best friend.

Five-minute harissa yogurt
Smoky, cooling and quick. The yogurt does the calming, the harissa does the talking.

One-pot Pugliese sausage and potatoes
Peasant food that minds itself in the oven, as happy on a Tuesday as it is at a three-hour lunch.

Salsa cruda for peak tomatoes
Grated ripe tomato, garlic and basil. The less you do to it, the better it is.

Salsa verde, anchovy and all
Sharp, briny and green. The Italian one, not the tomatillo one.

Grated tomato and Calabrian chili
Grated tomato with a Calabrian kick and a lemon lift. Sauce or dip, your call.

Za'atar yogurt with sumac
Herby, tangy and green-flecked. The cooling spoon for anything off the grill.

Zhoug with a proper temper
The Yemeni green sauce that bites back. The cardamom is the tell.

Lemon pesto spaghetti, all zest and no juice
The Amalfi trick: zest steeped into the pasta water and pounded into the pesto, toasted almonds underneath, not a drop of juice anywhere.

Shrimp in a fish sauce caramel
Sugar taken to the edge of burnt, then doused with fish sauce: Vietnam's sweet-and-savoury backbone, wrapped around shrimp over jasmine rice.