That Time I Tried (and Failed) To Impress With Chicken Salad

Let me just start by saying, I used to think salads were, well, boring. Then honey mustard chicken salad dropped into my life like a golden (sometimes messy) miracle. My sister swears she invented this combo, but honestly, I think we all just needed an excuse to drown leafy things in a sweet and tangy sauce. Quick family story: once I brought this to a summer picnic, and my nephew stabbed a cherry tomato clean off my plate—right onto his shirt. After that, I started pre-chopping everything a bit smaller; fewer wardrobe casualties. And hey, I still think the best part is licking that last bit of dressing from the bowl when nobody’s looking (don’t judge).

Why I Keep Coming Back to This Recipe

I make this honey mustard chicken salad when I really can’t stare at another slice of plain deli meat, or when leftovers are lurking and, honestly, looking a little sad (we’ve all been there). My family goes nuts for this because it’s hearty and somehow still feels fresh. My husband says it tastes like summer—even when it’s raining cats and dogs. Plus, if I’m running late (again), this is faster than you’d guess. And believe me, nobody complains about leafy greens if there’s enough chicken and honey mustard dressing along for the ride. Oh! One frustration—I did once try it with fake maple syrup instead of honey, thinking nobody would notice… yeah, don’t do that. Trust me.

Here’s What I Usually Throw In (but you do you)

Chicken: 2 cooked breasts, diced or shredded (Rotisserie chicken works when I’m lazy. Leftover grilled thighs? Also fab!)
Salad greens: A couple of big handfuls of mixed leaves (I sometimes grab spinach if that’s all we’ve got. Romaine? Sure. My gran preferred iceberg, but honestly, whatever’s there is fine)
Cherry tomatoes: A punnet, halved (or regular tomatoes, chunked up. No judgment)
Cucumber: Half, diced (but sometimes I skip it because, you know… effort)
Red onion: A handful, thinly sliced (Quick tip: soak in water for 10 min if they’re a bit much)
Avocado: 1, cubed (or skip if yours is still rock-hard—the salad shall survive)
Crispy bacon bits: Totally optional but honestly—yes, bacon
For the honey mustard dressing:
- 3 tbsp mayonnaise (I use whatever’s open)
- 2 tbsp Dijon mustard (the spicier the better, but use yellow if you like)
- 2 tbsp honey (runny, not the fancy stuff unless you want to)
- 1 tbsp olive oil or any neutral oil
- 1-2 tsp lemon juice or apple cider vinegar (I occasionally get wild and splash in both)
- Salt & pepper to taste

Alright, Let’s Dive Into Making It

Get your chicken sorted. If it’s already cooked, you’re winning. Dice or shred it—on second thought, shredded sticks to the greens better, but dicing is quicker if you’re in a rush. If you’re cooking from scratch, a little olive oil, salt, and pepper in a frying pan does the trick. (This is where I accidentally singed a finger last week; keep an eye on your pan, yeah?)
Make the dressing. Just whisk everything together in a small bowl until smooth. I have, once or twice, just chucked it all in a jar and shaken it like mad—that works too. Taste it here! I actually find it’s better to go a bit heavy on the mustard if you’re serving picky eaters; they’re always pleasantly surprised.
Prep your veg. Halve your tomatoes, chop your cucumber, slice the onion (or sub in a few pre-chopped bits if you can’t be bothered—no shame). If you’re using avocado, add it last, just so it doesn’t get too squashed.
Toss it all together. Big bowl, greens in first, then everything else, then drizzle with the dressing. Get your hands in there (clean hands, obviously), or use those awkward salad tongs that seem designed to catapult ingredients across the room. If it’s looking a bit dry, add more dressing (there’s never really too much, is there?).
Add the bacon bits. Top the salad just before serving, for max crunch. I was going to say skip this for a healthier version, but honestly—I never do.

Notes I’ve Picked Up Along the Way

If you forget the oil in the dressing, it’ll taste alright, but the texture’s off—sort of clumpy? You might prefer it that way though, give it a whirl.
The salad actually tastes better after chilling for 30 min, but… I rarely manage to wait that long.
If you want to make it ahead, keep the greens and dressing separate, else it gets a bit sad and soggy.

Stuff I’ve Experimented With (And One Fail)

Mediterranean twist? Tried swapping honey for pomegranate molasses. Didn’t really work—too sharp.
Vegan version: Skip the chicken, add crispy chickpeas and a vegan mayo. It’s actually brilliant, promise.
Warm version: Grilled chicken fresh out of the pan, thrown onto cold greens—is oddly comforting. Like sunshine in a bowl on a grey day.

The Stuff You’ll Actually Need (But Maybe Not)

Big salad bowl (or a clean mixing bowl if your salad bowl is still “rustic” form last time)
Sharp knife (careful, they’re pesky)
Cutting board—a plate will do in a pinch
Jar or bowl for mixing dressing (I’ve mixed in a mug before, and it wasn’t a disaster)
Salad tongs if you’re feeling fancy; hands are perfectly fine if you wash them

How Long Can You Keep This? (If You Can Actually Resist)

Technically, this will keep in the fridge for a day or two, but honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! If you’ve dressed the whole thing, it gets soggy overnight. If you know you’ll have leftovers, just separate the chicken and dressing from the greens—but honestly, that’s a level of organization I rarely achieve. For more nerdy info on how long cooked chicken lasts, this Bon Appetit article comes in handy.

How I Like To Serve It (The Fun Part)

I pile it up in bowls and sprinkle with extra black pepper—my partner dunks hunks of crusty sourdough in the leftover dressing (and then claims he’s “helping” clean up). Sometimes we have it as a filling in pita bread with extra greens. Oh! Once, I served it with hot chips on the side. Not traditional, but definitely a win for the carb-lovers. If you’re ever stuck for salad ideas, these salad recipes are great for a bit of variety.

Pro Tips (I Learned the Hard Way)

I once rushed the dressing and didn’t mix properly. Ended up with blobs of mustard in some bites. Don’t skimp on the whisking (or furious jar-shaking).
If you put the avocado in too soon and toss everything enthusiastically, it will vanish into guacamole territory.
Actually, I find it works better if you let the chicken cool before adding it to the greens; otherwise, the leaves get kinda limp.

Let’s Have a Little FAQ, Shall We?

Can I use pre-cooked chicken?
Oh, absolutely! That’s my shortcut 80 percent of the time. Rotisserie, grilled, even last night’s roast. Just slice or shred—job done.
What’s the best honey for the dressing?
I’m not picky. If it’s liquid, use it. I know there are folks who’ll say “use raw local honey!” but really, whatever’s handy. My friend swears by manuka, but that stuff is dear as gold.
Is this kid-friendly?
Yep, unless they’re anti-mustard. Try using a milder mustard if your little ones are fussy (or just call the dressing “golden sauce”—worked for my niece).
Help! I’m outta Dijon. What else works?
Wholegrain adds nice texture, or just regular yellow mustard in a pinch. Actually, I swapped it once for spicy brown and nobody even said a word.
Can I make this ahead?
You can prep it ahead, but hold off on tossing with dressing until ready to eat. Unless you enjoy a soggy salad (no judgment… sometimes I do, too).
Best way to transport this for a picnic?
Keep salad bits and dressing in separate containers—then toss together at the park. Major pro move. Honestly, that’s what I do unless I’ve forgotten the dressing at home (happens more than it should…).

Anyway, that’s my take on honey mustard chicken salad. It’s unfussy, forgiving, and guaranteed to make you a salad fan—even if, like me, you’ve spent years side-eyeing green stuff. If you ever need another chicken salad twist, swing by this BBC Good Food version—somehow they make it look proper posh. And if you try a wild new ingredient that totally works (or fails spectacularly), let me know—always up for a kitchen adventure.

Honey Mustard Chicken Salad: My Go-To Tangy Lunchtime Fix