Mediterranean Pasta Salad

We are in Lisbon. I'm writing this from a café near the Alfama neighborhood, at a small table that wobbles slightly and serves the best pastéis de nata I've ever eaten, which is to say the best pastéis de nata anyone has ever eaten, which is a very confident claim for someone who had never eaten one until Tuesday but which I will stand by without hesitation.

Portugal was Sean D.'s choice — he wanted somewhere neither of us had been, somewhere with history, somewhere with good food. All three conditions have been met spectacularly. Lisbon has the quality of a city that is very old and very beautiful and completely uninterested in convincing you of either fact; it simply is what it is and you can see it or not. I see it. I am seeing it with extraordinary attention.

We have been married for five days. This is a sentence that still does not feel fully real, in the way that important true things sometimes don't feel real until weeks later when they have had time to settle. I am married. Sean Donovan is my husband. My name is Kate Donovan and it has always been Kate Donovan and now there is a reason for the coincidence that feels different from just having the same name. His family is my family. My family is his family. The three-decker on East Broadway and the house in Dorchester where he grew up are now both mine in a way they weren't quite before.

The food here is extraordinary. We had bacalhau — salt cod — three different ways at three different restaurants and each version was a complete education in how one ingredient can mean many things. Olive oil poured from a pitcher like water. Wine that costs four euros and is better than wine twice the price at home. Tonight we're having dinner at a place a local recommended, and I'm going to eat everything on the table and write nothing down and just exist in it fully. I owe that to the honeymoon.

We’ve been home for a week now and I still can’t stop thinking about the olive oil — poured like water, Sean kept saying, like it was nothing — and the way every meal in Lisbon tasted like someone had taken the entire Mediterranean and put it on a plate with complete confidence. I can’t replicate pastéis de nata in my kitchen (not yet, anyway), but this Mediterranean pasta salad gets me close to that feeling: bright, olive-oil-forward, full of the flavors that made us look at each other across every table and say how is this so good. It’s become our bringing-Lisbon-home recipe, the one I make when I want to be back at that wobbly café table in Alfama, married for five days and tasting everything.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 pound rotini or fusilli pasta
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 clove garlic, finely minced
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
1 English cucumber, diced
1/2 cup Kalamata olives, halved
1/3 cup sun-dried tomatoes (oil-packed), roughly chopped
1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
1/4 cup thinly sliced red onion
2 tablespoons fresh basil, chopped
1 tablespoon fresh parsley, chopped

Instructions

Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook the rotini according to package directions until al dente. Drain and rinse under cold water until completely cool.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, red wine vinegar, lemon juice, garlic, oregano, salt, and pepper until well combined.
Prep the vegetables. While the pasta cools, halve the cherry tomatoes and olives, dice the cucumber, slice the red onion, and chop the sun-dried tomatoes, basil, and parsley.
Combine everything. In a large bowl, toss the cooled pasta with the cherry tomatoes, cucumber, olives, sun-dried tomatoes, red onion, and herbs. Pour the dressing over the top and toss until evenly coated.
Add the feta. Gently fold in the crumbled feta so it stays in distinct pieces throughout the salad.
Chill and serve. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to let the flavors meld. Taste and adjust salt and pepper before serving. The salad keeps well in the refrigerator for up to 3 days — the flavor only improves overnight.

Nutrition (per serving)

Mediterranean Pasta Salad — Lisbon on a Plate, Five Days Married