Real talk: My job is to convince you that things that seem hard—and might actually be—are actually easy. I like that. Which is why writing about something so dumb-easy that a literal child could do it feels funny. But that's what I'm going to do here, to teach you how to make a cucumber salad so easy, so effortless, that you literally don't even need a knife, let alone a recipe, to make it.
That's right:You do not need a knife to make this cucumber salad. But before we get into all that, there's a thing you should know about me: I never don't want cucumbers. They're my desert island vegetable (fruit?)—fresher-than-fresh, crisp beyond compare. I'll gladly eat them on their own, out-of-hand, with a sprinkle of salt on each bite to bring that uniquely watery crunch into focus. But most of the time, when I'm eating cucumbers, I'm eating them in salad form. And this is hands-down the easiest, quickest salad a person can make. It's more of a technique, really—a way of setting up an already-great ingredient for even greater greatness.
The first step is to choose your cukes wisely. Do NOT buy those ubiquitous thick, seedy, waxy-skinned cucumbers—you can't make this salad with them, so don't try. Ideally, you want those crisp little Persian cukes, or some cute kirbys from the farmers' market, but those shrink-wrapped English hothouse guys will do in a pinch. Got 'em? Good. Let's make some salad.
Now, take out your sharpest knife. Wait a second, you might be thinking, I thought he said you don't need a knife to make this salad?! You don't. You're just going to look at your knife the way you look at a dog that wants a W-A-L-K but isn't going to get one, because you are an actual human being and your needs matter more. Sorry knife pup! Back in the drawer you go!
Back to the salad. Take your cucumbers out of the fridge and place them on your cutting board. Now, you're going to smash them. How you do that is up to you. I usually put one palm over the other and lean on them until they squish and start to come apart, but you can also give them a light tap with a rolling pin, a hammer, or that empty wine bottle on your nightstand that you keep on forgetting to recycle. Once those cukes look like they're coming apart at the seams a bit, start ripping and tearing them into bite-sized pieces and transferring them to a bowl.
OK, let's take a mo'. How cool do those pieces of cucumber look??? Think of all the ways you could have cut those cukes with your knife pup, and how much more stylish and irregular and interesting your no-knife cucumber salad is shaping up. Once that mo' has passed, hit your cukes with a couple of three-finger pinches of kosher salt and give them a good tossy-toss. Taste them—they should taste good and salty, almost too salty, like a half-sour pickle. Now, transfer the whole mess to a fine mesh strainer or a colander set over a bowl and let them drain for about ten minutes. This is key, because it allows time for the salt to draw some water out of a verrrrry watery vegetable, and as we all know, less water means more flavor. It may look like the smashed cucumbers are going to be mushy, but they're actually going to be miraculously more crunchy than they were before—don't ask me why, they just are.
(If you don't have a strainer or a colander, don't fret. You can also let the salty cukes hang out in a bowl for ten minutes and then do that awkward thing where you try to tip the bowl so the liquid drains out but all of the cukes stay in. Your call!)
Take your now-drained cucumber shards and transfer them to a bowl, because it's time to dress them. (Use the one you were draining them over, it ain't dirty!) Part of the beauty of smashing cucumbers is that all of those irregular edges and nooks and crannies help to hold onto dressing in a way that regular old sliced cucumber never will. Add a good shot of acid—any kind of vinegar or citrus juice will work—and then toss and taste. You want them goooood and tangy. Now, drizzle the whole mess with a bit of oil to make it glossy—doesn't matter what kind, as long as you like how it tastes. Taste again for seasoning and then BOOM! You just made a cucumber salad. Seriously, that's it! It's crunchy. It's salty. It's tangy. It's refreshing. And it's perfect.
And while that bare-bones no-knife cucumber salad is delicious as-is, it's also a blank canvas for embellishment. Sometimes I'll toss in some pickled red onions if I have some lying around. Sometimes I'll add a few drops of soy sauce, a bit of toasted sesame oil and seeds, and some thinly sliced scallions—you'll need a knife for that—to make a crunchy rice bowl accompaniment. Sometimes I'll drown the cukes in hot chile oil to serve alongside a roasted pork shoulder. Or gussy it up with grassy olive oil and handfuls of fresh herbs like dill, parsley, and cilantro and spoon it all over crispy fried chicken cutlets. Or...you get the idea.
How's that for convincing?