Name: Spicy Asian Cucumber Salad
Prep time: 15 min
Total time: 15 min
Yield: 4 servings
Cuisine: Asian
Ingredients: 2 large English cucumbers; 2 tablespoons rice vinegar; 1 tablespoon soy sauce; 1 tablespoon sesame oil; 1 tablespoon chili oil; 1 teaspoon sugar; 2 cloves garlic, minced; 1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds; 2 green onions, thinly sliced; Salt to taste

So, Let Me Tell You About My Favorite Cucumber Sidekick

Every time summer rolls around, I get this urge to fill my fridge with things that crunch and snap but don’t require me to turn on the stove. Enter: spicy Asian cucumber salad. Okay, so here’s a confession—my first attempt at this dish was at 11pm, after a bit too much karaoke and, well, I grabbed whatever was in the crisper. The result? Surprisingly edible. Now it’s sort of a late-night ritual, though my spouse would probably argue I make it at any hour, for pretty much every potluck. Or Tuesday. Or random Netflix snack attacks. Anyway, if you want a fast side that makes people actually say “Hey, did you make that?” (instead of politely ignoring it), you gotta try this.

Why I Keep Coming Back to This Salad

I make this when I’m too tired to cook but still want to feel a bit smug about eating veggies. My family goes a little wild for it, especially when I add just the right amount of chili and not the “burn your face off” amount I’ve accidentally attempted once or twice—don’t recommend. Also, it’s my go-to when all I’ve got are cucumbers rolling around in the veggie drawer and maybe half a lime that got lost behind the cheese. Oh, and no fancy ingredients needed; it just, you know, works. (Probably my favorite thing in the world when I don’t want to wait for takeout.) Many, many bowls have disappeared before dinner’s even on the table!

What’s in My Bowl (And Maybe Yours?)

2 skinny cucumbers or 1 big English cucumber (or I sometimes grab those mini Persian guys—just chop more!)
1 teaspoon salt—Grandma insisted on sea salt, but table salt’s perfectly fine
2–3 cloves garlic, minced (well, sometimes I’m lazy and just use the jarred stuff; sue me)
1–2 tablespoons chili oil or chili crisp (Trader Joe’s is nice but Lao Gan Ma the best, in my book—but any spicy oil works)
1 tablespoon soy sauce (low sodium or regular, whatever you got; coconut aminos in a pinch)
1 tablespoon rice vinegar (white vinegar is okay if you’re really in a bind)
1–2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
1 teaspoon sugar or honey (sometimes I just skip this if my mood is more savory than sweet)
2–3 scallions, chopped (or spring onions, or honestly omit if you forgot to shop—no disaster there)
Handful of cilantro, torn up (can totally leave out; my brother thinks it tastes like soap anyhow)
Toasted sesame seeds or crushed peanuts for topping (‘‘fancy’’ but optional)

How I Actually Throw This Together

Slice up your cucumbers. I usually whack them up into coins, but when I’m feeling artsy, diagonal slices look cool. If I’m really in a rush, I just chunk them into bite-size pieces. Sprinkle with a teaspoon of salt, toss, and let ’em sit in a colander for 10-15 minutes to pull out extra water. If you forget to do this, don’t panic—just expect a slightly sloshier salad; some people (like me last Tuesday) actually like that.
Pat, pat, pat. Rinse the cucumbers, then blot them dry with a kitchen towel or, you know, a wad of paper towels if that’s what’s handy. This is where I usually sneak a taste. Usually good.
Mix your magic potion (the dressing). In a big-ish bowl, whisk together the garlic, chili oil, soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, and sugar. If you want less heat, just go easy on the chili oil. Actually, sometimes I don’t even whisk—just dump it all in and swirl with a fork. Works fine.
Bring it all together. Stir in the dried-off cucumbers, add the scallions and cilantro if using, and toss till everything’s nicely coated. It’ll look a bit glossy and, sometimes, slightly wilted. Don’t worry if it looks weird at this stage—it always does; trust that it’ll taste much better after a chill.
Chill (if you can wait). Stick in the fridge for at least 10 minutes. To be honest, it tastes fine right away but extra tangy-savory and punchy cold. I think this tastes even better the next day, but in my house it almost never gets the chance.
Right before eating, sprinkle on toasted sesame seeds or peanuts if you like crunch. If not, no crime in being plain here.

Stuff I’ve Picked Up By Messing Up (Notes!)

If you let the cucumbers sit too long with salt, they go floppy (still tasty though, just not as crisp). Fifteen minutes is my sweet spot, but who’s counting?
Once, I forgot to rinse off the salt. Yikes—the salt punch knocked my socks off. Rinse, rinse, rinse.
You can totally skip the sugar/honey if you like things sharper.

Variations I’ve Tried (Some Winners, One… Eh)

Swapped in thinly sliced daikon radish for a third of the cucumbers—super peppy
Added a dash of fish sauce instead of soy sauce—wow, that’s funky (but good)
Once I tossed in shredded chicken for a kinda meal situation—pretty nice, though a bit odd texture-wise
Didn’t love adding pineapple chunks (not recommended, unless you’re feeling very brave with your tastebuds)

What You’ll Need (But, Workarounds Welcome)

Sharp knife and cutting board—though, in a pinch, I’ve just used a serrated steak knife and the back of a plate. Not elegant but, yeah, it works.
Mixing bowl—any size that fits your stuff; I once used a salad spinner bowl and… no regrets.
Colander, but paper towels work if you skip draining
Chopsticks or a big spoon for mixing

Keeping Leftovers (A Hypothetical…)

This keeps in the fridge for up to 2 days (maybe longer? I never get that far). Usually the flavors get deeper—kinda like how music sounds better at midnight. Just store it in whatever container you have handy; a takeout tub works just as well.

How I Like To Serve It (And Sometimes Don’t)

I love this beside grilled meats (try it with skewers) or with a hot bowl of jasmine rice when I need comfort food. Sometimes I plonk it on the table just as a solo snack, especially during blazing summer days. We once had an impromptu backyard picnic with nothing but this, potato chips, and ginger beer, and honestly, what more do you need? Maybe more potato chips, but that’s a different debate.

What I Wish I’d Known Sooner (Pro Tips That Came the Hard Way)

Once I tried slicing the cucumbers super thick (impatience, it’s my virtue). Nope! They don’t soak up the dresssing well at all. Thinner is better here.
Don’t skip letting things chill a bit; hot salad is not a vibe, at least for me.
I used bottled lemon juice instead of vinegar once… on second thought, nope, stick with real vinegar if possible.

Got Questions? (Actual Ones I’ve Heard and Answered)

Can I make it less spicy? Sure thing; just use less chili oil, or swap for sesame oil. You can skip the chili altogether if you want, but then it’s not really, you know… spicy.
Does it have to chill? Nah, but it really pops after 10–15 mins in the fridge. Sometimes I can’t wait, though, and it’s still pretty fabulous.
Is there a low-sodium version? Just use low-sodium soy sauce. Also, rinse those cukes well after salting.
How do I keep it crisp? Don’t let the cucumbers steep in the dressing for ages. Also, serve soon after mixing—though honestly, a bit soft is still tasty.
What if I want to meal-prep? Go for it! But keep the cucumbers and dressing separate until you’re ready to eat. They last longer that way. (That’s a tip from my neighbor Nancy, actually.)

By the way, if you want to make your own chili crisp, I found a great step-by-step on Serious Eats. Also, Bon Appétit’s version inspired me to try scallions once and now, well, I almost always add them.

If you make this, tell me what weird add-ins you try—just don’t go overboard with pineapple. Trust me on that one.