Salads, Ranked

Invented by Caesar Cardini in Tijuana in the 1920s, its garlic-anchovy-parmesan dressing over crisp romaine became a global steakhouse staple. Endlessly imitated, rarely beaten.

Traditional horiatiki uses no lettuce, just tomato, cucumber, onion, olives, and a slab of feta under olive oil and oregano. A masterclass in letting good ingredients speak.

Mozzarella, tomato, and basil mirror the Italian flag and are believed to have originated on the island of Capri. Three ingredients, zero filler, maximum summer.

Created at Hollywood's Brown Derby in the 1930s, its neat rows of chicken, bacon, egg, avocado, and blue cheese make it a full meal. Protein-packed and photogenic.

A Levantine herb salad built mostly on finely chopped parsley with bulgur, mint, tomato, and lemon. Bright, fresh, and genuinely good for you.

A Provençal composed salad of tuna, olives, eggs, and green beans from Nice. Substantial and elegant without trying too hard.

A Levantine salad using toasted or fried pita for crunch, brightened with sumac and lemon. Turns leftover bread into something craveable.

Created at NYC's Waldorf-Astoria in the 1890s with apple, celery, grapes, and walnuts in mayonnaise. A dinner-party relic that still holds up.

Panzanella soaks stale bread in tomato juices, oil, and vinegar into a hearty Tuscan classic. Best when tomatoes are peak-season, sad otherwise.

Shredded cabbage in a creamy or vinegar dressing, a fixture beside barbecue and fried chicken. Reliable but rarely the star.

A pile of cold cuts, cheese, and hard-boiled egg over greens that became an American diner default. Filling and inoffensive, if a bit random.

Boiled potatoes bound in mayo or vinaigrette, a cookout staple across cultures. Great when done right, a food-safety hazard in the sun.

Elbow macaroni in mayonnaise with a few token vegetables. Tasty at the deli, but calling it a salad is generous.

A Southern mix of canned fruit, marshmallows, and coconut in whipped topping. Sweeter than most desserts and salad in name only.

A mid-century staple suspending vegetables, fruit, or even meat in flavored gelatin. Regularly cited as the worst dish of the era for good reason.