Let Me Tell You About This BLT Chicken Salad
Okay, so picture this: it’s late Sunday morning, sun is shining through the window, and I’ve got bacon popping on the stovetop. The cat is circling my ankles like she’d actually get a piece (sorry, not a chance), and my phone keeps buzzing with a group chat about who’s bringing what to the picnic. That’s when I decided, you know what, I’m gonna make my famous BLT chicken salad — famous in my house, at least. I’ve brought this to more road trips and school potlucks than I can count, sometimes with a whole wodge of substitutions, sometimes following the recipe to a T, but honestly, it’s pretty forgiving, even when you’ve got kids bouncing balls off the cabinets.
Why This Salad Always Disappears
I make this whenever I need something a little more exciting than regular old chicken salad (which, if you ask me, tends to get a bit “meh” on its own). My family goes crazy for it because, well, bacon — do I even need to explain? And it’s got this perfect crunch from lettuce and tomatoes, which, by the way, are the only reason my salad-hating cousin will eat anything green. I sometimes get lazy and use a rotisserie chicken from the shop; it’s fine, just don’t skip seasoning it up a bit—bland chicken is the enemy here. Full confession: the first time I made it, I forgot to cool the bacon and melted the mayo, resulting in, let’s just say, an edible but slightly suspicious-looking salad. Haven’t made that mistake since. (Mostly.)
What You’ll Need (aka Forgive the Shopping List)
- 2 cups cooked chicken breast, chopped or shredded (rotisserie chicken is my go-to when I’m rushing, but any leftover roast chicken is fair game)
- 6 strips bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled (sometimes I use turkey bacon, but don’t tell my Southern relatives)
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved (or the good tomatoes from the garden — use what you like)
- 1 cup romaine lettuce, chopped (iceberg is fine if you’re out or want extra crunch)
- ⅓ cup mayonnaise (my grandmother swore by Duke’s, but honestly, I go with whatever’s on sale; Greek yogurt works in a pinch)
- 1-2 tablespoons sour cream (I nearly always add a hefty spoonful, but you can skip if dairy’s not your jam)
- 1 tablespoon fresh chives, chopped (green onions work too, or honestly, you can skip this if it’s not in the fridge)
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard (totally optional, but I like the little zing)
- Salt and freshly cracked black pepper, to taste
How I Throw It Together (And You Can Too)
- Cook your bacon. I like to do mine in the oven on a sheet tray with foil because I don’t want to stand there dodging oil, but honestly, if the skillet’s hot and you’re feeling old school, go for it. Drain and try not to eat half, then crumble it up.
- Prep the chicken. If you’re using cooked chicken, just chop or shred it into bite-size pieces. If it’s not already seasoned, sprinkle on a bit of salt and pepper. This is where I usually sneak a taste — quality control, of course.
- Get your veg sorted. Half those cherry tomatoes (watch them roll off the board) and chop the lettuce. If you’re using green onions or chives, give those a rough chop too.
- Whisk up the dressing. In a big bowl, mix mayo, sour cream, Dijon, a tiny splash of bacon oil if you’re feeling wild, salt, and pepper. Sometimes I add a squeeze of lemon if it’s looking a bit heavy.
- Combine all the bits. Toss in the chicken, tomatoes, lettuce, bacon, and chives. Stir it gently so you don’t bruise the lettuce too much. This is when it usually looks a bit messy — don’t fret, it’ll look great in the bowl. Taste and adjust salt/pepper; sometimes I throw in more bacon just because I can.
- Chill (optional, but makes it better). Cover and stick it in the fridge for at least 30 minutes if you have time; actually, I think the flavors come together more if you’re patient, though I’ve eaten it straight away, fork in hand, many times and lived to tell the tale.
Here’s What I’ve Figured Out (aka Notes)
- If you toss everything while the bacon’s still hot, the salad gets weirdly soggy. Trust me, let it cool.
- I used to skip the sour cream, but now I’m convinced it adds a tang. Yet, if you hate it, just go full mayo, it’ll still work.
- Honestly, you can make this in a mixing bowl and serve from the same one — fewer dishes, more living room lounging.
Variations I’ve Tried (And One I Won’t Again)
- Sometimes I swap in avocado for half the mayo — creamy and bold, but it does turn it a tad greenish.
- Tried adding shredded cheddar once; kids loved it, but I thought it overpowered the whole thing...
- Did a “BLAT” with avocado and turkey bacon, which was delicious, but I do not recommend apples in this — threw the balance right off (apples are for Waldorf, not BLT, apparently).
Equipment (But Don’t Sweat It If You’re Missing Something)
- Large mixing bowl (mine’s slightly cracked, but it still does the job)
- Sheet tray for bacon — or just use your trusty skillet
- Sharp knife & chopping board — or, if your knives are dull, just saunter through with kitchen scissors, no judgment
Storing the Leftovers (If You Even Have Any)
This keeps in the fridge, covered, for up to 2 days, but honestly, it rarely makes it past the first afternoon in my house. The lettuce can get a little floppy, but it’s still tasty. If you’re prepping ahead, sometimes I hold off adding the lettuce until just before serving so it stays crisp(er).
How We Serve It (Traditions and Personal Habits)
I love it scooped onto toasted sourdough (bit of a luxury), or you can just pile it inside a warm pita — my youngest eats hers with crackers like it’s a dip. Sometimes on sweltering afternoons, we just eat it with spoons straight from the bowl, picnic-style on a picnic rug, which, by the way, often means more time chatting and less time fussing with cutlery. My cousin once ate it with Doritos, and honestly, it wasn’t bad!
Pro Tips From Someone Who Has Messed Up
- Don’t rush the chilling step — I did once and the flavors just weren’t as punchy. If you have time, let it sit in the fridge, even for 20 minutes.
- Measure the mayo with a regular spoon; recipes always say “cup” but who wants to clean that? Just estimate — it’s more fun that way.
- This is not the time for low-salt bacon, unless you’re watching your blood pressure with an eagle eye.
FAQ: Things I’ve Genuinely Been Asked
- Can I make this ahead? Yep! If you keep the lettuce out and add it just before serving, it stays crunchier.
- Does it freeze? Not really, unless weird texture is your jam — when you thaw it, it gets watery. Wouldn’t recommend.
- Can I use another protein? For sure. I’ve made it with leftover turkey (post-Thanksgiving blues) and even canned salmon once, which sounds odd, but hey, desperate times…
- What if I hate mayo? I get it. I’d use all Greek yogurt or add in some mashed avocado instead — but try a mix first.
- How spicy can I make it? Once, I added sriracha and jalapeños. Mixed reviews. If you like heat, it’s worth a shot, but maybe serve the hot stuff on the side for picky eaters.
- I’ve only got iceberg lettuce and regular tomatoes... That’s fine! It’ll be watery if you leave it sitting too long, so just eat up soon after mixing.
Anyway — that’s the rundown. If you end up ad-libbing or making it your own, let me know… I’m always taking notes for future lunches!
Ingredients
- 2 cups cooked chicken breast, chopped or shredded (rotisserie chicken is my go-to when I’m rushing, but any leftover roast chicken is fair game)
- 6 strips bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled (sometimes I use turkey bacon, but don’t tell my Southern relatives)
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved (or the good tomatoes from the garden — use what you like)
- 1 cup romaine lettuce, chopped (iceberg is fine if you’re out or want extra crunch)
- ⅓ cup mayonnaise (my grandmother swore by Duke’s, but honestly, I go with whatever’s on sale; Greek yogurt works in a pinch)
- 1-2 tablespoons sour cream (I nearly always add a hefty spoonful, but you can skip if dairy’s not your jam)
- 1 tablespoon fresh chives, chopped (green onions work too, or honestly, you can skip this if it’s not in the fridge)
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard (totally optional, but I like the little zing)
- Salt and freshly cracked black pepper, to taste
Instructions
-
1Cook your bacon. I like to do mine in the oven on a sheet tray with foil because I don’t want to stand there dodging oil, but honestly, if the skillet’s hot and you’re feeling old school, go for it. Drain and try not to eat half, then crumble it up.
-
2Prep the chicken. If you’re using cooked chicken, just chop or shred it into bite-size pieces. If it’s not already seasoned, sprinkle on a bit of salt and pepper. This is where I usually sneak a taste — quality control, of course.
-
3Get your veg sorted. Half those cherry tomatoes (watch them roll off the board) and chop the lettuce. If you’re using green onions or chives, give those a rough chop too.
-
4Whisk up the dressing. In a big bowl, mix mayo, sour cream, Dijon, a tiny splash of bacon oil if you’re feeling wild, salt, and pepper. Sometimes I add a squeeze of lemon if it’s looking a bit heavy.
-
5Combine all the bits. Toss in the chicken, tomatoes, lettuce, bacon, and chives. Stir it gently so you don’t bruise the lettuce too much. This is when it usually looks a bit messy — don’t fret, it’ll look great in the bowl. Taste and adjust salt/pepper; sometimes I throw in more bacon just because I can.
-
6Chill (optional, but makes it better). Cover and stick it in the fridge for at least 30 minutes if you have time; actually, I think the flavors come together more if you’re patient, though I’ve eaten it straight away, fork in hand, many times and lived to tell the tale.
Approximate Information for One Serving
Nutrition Disclaimers
Number of total servings shown is approximate. Actual number of servings will depend on your preferred portion sizes.
Nutritional values shown are general guidelines and reflect information for 1 serving using the ingredients listed, not including any optional ingredients. Actual macros may vary slightly depending on specific brands and types of ingredients used.
To determine the weight of one serving, prepare the recipe as instructed. Weigh the finished recipe, then divide the weight of the finished recipe (not including the weight of the container the food is in) by the desired number of servings. Result will be the weight of one serving.
Did you make this recipe?
Please consider Pinning it!