It’s the kind of salad you make on a spring Thursday, when it’s finally warm enough that you don’t want soup anymore. Purslane is growing everywhere right now—in gardens, between paving stones—and most people pull it out without knowing what they’re throwing away. Their loss.

In the bowl, the small fleshy leaves of the purslane shine like dark green plastic, thick under the fingers and slightly crunchy. The avocado cuts through it all with a touch of pale green, almost yellow in places, melting like butter that’s been out for twenty minutes. The cherry tomatoes add bright, almost lacquered red spots. A slightly tangy smell rises from the dressing—the cider vinegar that has found its place in the oil.