Salade Niçoise

The markets of Nice have a way of slowing us down. Even the air seems to linger between the stalls, warm with the scent of ripe tomatoes, basil still trembling from the morning harvest, and the faint salt of the sea riding in on a breeze from the Promenade des Anglais. When we make a Salade Niçoise, we are not simply assembling ingredients; we are returning to that gentle rhythm, the pace of a city that eats with its senses before its appetite.

 

This is a salad with character — firm textures, bright colors, and the kind of clarity that feels almost musical. Each element stands on its own, yet all come together in a harmony that feels unmistakably Mediterranean. And because the authentic Niçoise is naturally lean, fresh, and full of honest produce, it offers health without a whisper of compromise. We’ve always loved how it tastes like a holiday purchased with nothing more than tomatoes, anchovies, and a good handful of olives.

 

We start with small, sun-kissed tomatoes. They burst softly under the knife, releasing a perfume that reminds us of gardens perched above the Baie des Anges. Next come the crisp green beans—never soft, never dull, always blanched just enough to keep their snap. A few hard-boiled eggs bring richness without heaviness, and good-quality canned tuna (or fresh grilled if the day is generous) adds a gentle sea breeze to the plate.

 

Some purists insist on no potatoes. Others welcome them. We walk the middle line: if the day calls for something even lighter, leave them out; if the mood is hungry, use just a handful of small, waxy ones. The point of this salad is balance — a plate that feeds the body as effortlessly as it pleases the eye.

 

The dressing is where everything finds its voice. A simple vinaigrette of olive oil, Dijon mustard, lemon, and a whisper of garlic brings the brightness forward, making every ingredient sing. And when you finally sit down with this bowl—outside if you can, under the kind of light that turns even a simple lunch into a memory—you’ll understand why this dish has crossed borders and decades without ever losing its charm.

 

When we serve Salade Niçoise at home, there is always a moment of stillness: forks hover, eyes soften, and one of us inevitably murmurs that the south of France tastes like this. Then the first bite arrives with its gentle contrast of textures—firm beans, silky egg, salty anchovy, cool tomato—and suddenly the table becomes a little Riviera of its own.

 

It’s the kind of meal that leaves you feeling clear, content, and quietly nourished, as though someone has opened a window to the sea and let in a little sunlight. And if your afternoon happens to slow down afterward, don’t fight it. That’s simply the Niçoise doing what it has always done best: feeding more than just hunger.

 

Recipe

 

Ingredients (serves 2–3)

Metric + Imperial units

 

• 200 g (7 oz) green beans, trimmed
• 3 hard-boiled eggs
• 200 g (7 oz) cherry tomatoes, halved
• 1 small red onion, thinly sliced
• 1 small cucumber, sliced
• 1 handful of Niçoise or Kalamata olives
• 1 can good-quality tuna in olive oil (about 150 g / 5 oz), drained
• 4 anchovy fillets (optional, but wonderfully authentic)
• 6–8 basil leaves
• Optional: 200 g (7 oz) cooked small waxy potatoes

 

Vinaigrette

 

• 3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 tbsp lemon juice
• 1 tsp Dijon mustard
• 1 small garlic clove, finely grated
• Salt & black pepper to taste

 

Instructions

 

Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and blanch the green beans for just two minutes until bright and crisp. Plunge them into cold water to stop the cooking. Halve the eggs gently. In a wide bowl, arrange the tomatoes, beans, onions, cucumber, olives, tuna, and eggs. Tuck in the anchovies and scatter the basil leaves.

 

Whisk together the vinaigrette until glossy, then spoon it lovingly over the salad. Serve right away, preferably in the shade on a warm afternoon.

 

Wine Pairing

 

A crisp, lightly aromatic Côtes de Provence rosé is the classic companion — pale pink, dry, and refreshing.

For a white, choose a Vermentino (Rolle) from Provence: bright, citrusy, and just salty enough to echo the sea.