How to Make Ina Garten’s Greek Orzo Salad Recipe

My parents immigrated to the US from Greece in the 1980s, and they made sure to teach me about Greek culture through food. My dad made his delicious pastitsio (like lasagna, but better) every week, and whipped up avgolemono soup whenever one of us was sick. Every Christmas was celebrated with a big pan of baklava, and youvetsi was a dinner staple. 

But my parents are always willing to try something new — they tested 15 different “Greek” products from Trader Joe’s to see which tasted authentic! So, when I told them Garten had a Greek orzo salad, they were super excited. 

To make Garten’s Greek orzo salad, which serves six, you’ll need: 

• 1 cup of orzo (about 8 ounces) 
• 1 cup of canned chickpeas, rinsed and drained
• 2 cups of baby arugula 
• 4 ounces of Greek feta, ½-inch diced (not crumbled) 
• ½ cup of good olive oil 
• ½ cup of diced red bell pepper (¼-inch) 
• ½ cup of diced red onion (¼-inch) 
• ½ cup of kalamata olives, pitted and halved lengthwise 
• ¼ cup of freshly-squeezed lemon juice, plus extra for serving 
• 3 tablespoons of capers in brine, drained 
• 3 tablespoons of minced fresh dill 

Garten’s Greek orzo salad appears in her most recent cookbook, “Go-To Dinners,” and was inspired by Round Swamp Farm, a third-generation family farm in East Hampton. 

“Their prepared food and baked goods are simply outstanding,” she writes. “This recipe was inspired by one of their salads; it has all the Greek ingredients that I love — orzo, olives, feta, lemon, and dill.” 

I brought six cups of water to a boil in a large saucepan.

Once you’ve added the orzo, Garten says you should return the water to a boil, then lower the heat and simmer for eight to 10 minutes.

You’ll know it’s ready when the orzo is al dente. 

I diced the red onion and red bell pepper, per Garten’s instructions.

I rinsed and drained the chickpeas and made sure to drain my capers.

Garten’s Greek orzo salad comes together quickly; the only real work is cutting all the veggies and herbs. I had my dad helping me, so it took even less time. 

I just whisked together the lemon juice and olive oil with two teaspoons of salt and one teaspoon of black pepper, and voilà! It was ready. 

It was time to build the salad!

I made sure to stir it well so the orzo would absorb all that delicious flavor. 

Everything was already looking so colorful.

I used two spoons to help me carefully combine all the ingredients. 

Garten says you can enjoy her salad either warm or at room temperature, but hold off on adding the arugula if you’re making it the day before — no one likes soggy leaves in their salad. Once you’re ready to serve, add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and taste for seasoning. 

I should also note that Garten advises serving this with sliced lemon. My parents didn’t love the idea of whole lemon pieces in the salad, so we decided to nix them. 

I always love serving a salad full of color, and Garten’s Greek orzo salad has plenty. 

The pop of red from the bell pepper, the fresh green from the arugula, and the bright purple from the onion all worked together to make a beautiful plate. 

My parents looked impressed as I brought the salad to the dinner table. But would it taste as good as it looked? 

The orzo soaks up so many delicious Mediterranean flavors that are familiar to any Greek — salty chunks of feta intertwining with the rich kalamata olives, the texture of crisp bell pepper and red onion dancing together, that pop of fresh lemon brightening every bite. Even though there were so many different components to the salad, everything was perfectly balanced. 

The light and refreshing dish is also easy to make and still tastes great the next day. It’s perfect as a barbecue side dish or a main dish on a hot summer night. My dad recommends pairing it with some grilled meats or fish.

My parents now love whipping up Garten’s Greek orzo salad, and I’m not surprised. The dish tastes like something we would’ve eaten while watching the turquoise waves of the Aegean Sea during our summer trips to Greece. 

“Ina must’ve been Greek in one of her previous lives,” my mom declared.