15 Types of Lettuce To Shake Up Your Salad Routine

We’ve all been there: the salad rut. We just buy those same heads of lettuces at the supermarket every week, and make the same salad every night. Friends, that’s sad! There’s a whole world of not only lettuces out there, but other leafy vegetables that can make your salad course sing, whether you’re craving something crisp, sweet and salty, bitter, or some combination of those. Here’s a reminder of what you might be missing, and hopefully inspiration to eat from the whole rainbow of lettuces and salad leaves.

Okay, we’ll start here, even though we’re sure that no one really has to tell you about romaine. It’s supremely popular, and not just for the fact that it stars in an uber-popular salad. Romaine has a winning crispness and holds up well to all kinds of dressings. But let’s not pigeonhole it. Romaine can be grilled to great effect, blended into a delicate soup, and it lends gorgeous, juicy crunch to any kind of sandwich. It’s also sturdy enough to hold up to warm ingredients in lettuce cups, and, lest you think that only iceberg can do the wedge, think again.

When you’re extremely devoted to the romaine lifestyle but intellectually know that it’s time to move on, might we suggest dipping a toe into the loose leaf variety (not literally, of course). This category includes green leaf and red leaf lettuces, and is named for how they grow, not in a tight head but with spreading, loose leaves. The leaves tend to be less juicy and more tender than romaine, but what they lack in juice they make up for in a more pronounced lettucey flavor, somehow greener and more earthy. For this reason, they’re a great choice in a salad with a lot of character. Don’t let its delicacy worry you; it can hold up to a warm dressing. We love the dainty ruffle of a green leaf topping a burger, and how sauces will migrate into their crevices when used as wraps. And just—yes please.

This variety has those round, tightly-furled heads—you might know them under their most famous name, iceberg, though there are lesser-known crisphead varietals. They have that signature crisp and juicy crunch, and your experience of eating them can vary a surprising amount based on how it’s cut. Of course, a wedge salad of any stripe is unassailable (also try this, this, this and this), but you can get a similar crunch with a more unexpected (and less precarious presentation) by forming your salad from thick slices. For a juicy salad that you don’t need a knife to eat, try it in a chopped salad. Everyone knows that micro-shredded iceberg lettuce is a winner on sandwiches, albeit an old-school move that sometimes we forget about. But go ahead and zhuzh it up with simple elements; it’s always a hit.

Ooh, this is a good category. It includes Bibb and Boston, whose leaves are almost velvety smooth, tender in the vein of a loose leaf but with a glossier bite. And we forget about them sometimes—they tend to be the most delicate of the list thus far, and are often sold in fussy clamshell packages, and cost more, as a result. But they are divine, as right on with a warm bacon dressing as with something really acidic. They pair beautifully with fresh herbs, not least of all because their pale color provides a contrasting background. They can do the lettuce cup thing too, their dainty round leaves a perfect appetizer bite. They are absolutely the right choice for summer rolls, with their leaves acting as a support for the also-delicate rice paper. Also try this, this and this.

Also referred to sometimes as “spring mix,” mesclun means “mixture” in a Provençal dialect, and we have the grand dame of American cuisine, Alice Waters, to thank for bringing it to America. More specifically, for bringing the practice of it. While in France, she learned of how farmers would cut the baby leaves of many kinds of lettuces and leafy vegetables for a mixed salad that was tender, colorful and complex. Even pretty mini versions of bitter greens like frisee (more on that later) are rendered more mild by virtue of being baby, so it’s a mix that’s easy to love. You’ve mindlessly taken handfuls of some out of a bag to make yourself a quick salad, but now try it in Ina’s version of Waters’s salad that started it all, where its mild leaves complement the tang and crunch of fried discs of goat cheese. A mesclun salad really works well with a simple vinaigrette, which is why it makes such a no-brainer salad with brunchy entrees like this and this, but also dinner entrees like this and this. It is a classic in beet salad. But it can have main course energy too (also this and this). It looks beautiful in a layered salad.

This one’s not a lettuce, but it’s a frequent saladgoer due to its tenderness (see earlier re: baby). It’s more assertive than a lettuce and has more of a mineral tang (it is high in iron, calcium, folate and vitamins A, C and K). It does make great salad, contributing lots of flavor and its bright greenness. This one took us by storm in the '80s and we still love it, the creaminess of the yolks and salty bacon pairing particularly well with the spinach (also try this). But let’s not forget, this green cooks! It’s an essential part of oysters Rockefeller, its hue supposedly a nod to all the green in John D. Rockefeller’s wallet. It makes a great saute (with mushrooms, too). It works well in this steakhouse classic (and this other can’t-get-enough classic, and this main-dish spin on that). We love it in a frittata (it goes so well with eggs). It wilts beautifully (in a soup, too!). Is there anything this green can’t do?

Ooh, arugula is good. Baby arugula is ubiquitous in supermarkets these days, and we like it a lot, but don’t overlook full-grown arugula, too, with long leaves and a super peppery profile. (Seek them out in a farmers’ market for the best version of both.) You’ll often see baby arugula leaves in a mesclun mix, but its heat amps up in a salad of where it’s the only leafy element, and we’re here for it. It works great in a pasta salad, added in at the last minute so it wilts a bit, functioning as both an herb and a vegetable in one swoop (Ina’s got lots of good ideas for what to do with it, see?). It works great in a sheet pan supper. Italians love to put it on a pizza, and who are we to argue (also try this)? It also works great wilting on top of an entrée — Romans love to pair it with steak (also try this). And its pepperiness provides a bracing contrast to something fried. It can be genius on a sandwich, particularly one that needs a little bite.

Speaking of peppery bite, when was the last time you had watercress? It’s so rare to find it in grocery stores, but it is so special, you should definitely make a point of snapping it up when you see it. It’s in the Brassicaceae family, a relative of kale and cabbage, and gets its name for how it grows: in water. There was a time when Americans could only think of one thing to do with watercress: Take a page from the English and put it in a tea sandwich. And watercress is delicious in sandwiches (see also these), but it has so much more to give. It keeps comfort food from going too insipid, it wilts well, and yes, it makes an amazing salad. We love it in this and this main course salad. Much like its peppery friend arugula, it goes great with a steak (also pureed in a sauce for steak). Watercress soup, where the leaves are pureed, is a distinctive first course, but it also wilts well in a clear broth or avgolemono. Also pureed, in a dressing like this one, it lends its body, flavor and color to an outrageous pasta salad. Try it in a pesto! In Chinese cuisine, you’ll find it stir-fried, and it is so simple and tasty. Watercress can function like an herb, being stirred in before serving. It’s even great for breakfast! Go wild.

Whether you refer to it as “EN-dive” or “ahn-DEEV,” endive is fancy. Its full name is Belgian endive (see? Fancy!) and it is a member of the chicory family, grown in the dark to prevent photosynthesis and maintain its pale hue. Using it in a salad is a no-brainer, as its bitterness can add another dimension that might not be present in milder leaves. This salad is unforgettable. It is one of the three key players in an Italian tri-color salad, along with radicchio and arugula. It works in a slaw, too. But you can also cook with it, or take advantage of its sturdy leaves and use it as a vehicle (yes, please!). How about stuffing it? When you grill it, its charred tips create such a great contrast with its bitterness (which mellows from heat, by the way—you can get a more low-key version of that effect on the stovetop). It braises beautifully. Here, the play of salty, crunchy, sweet, acidic and meaty cannot be beaten.

Also a chicory and also quite bitter is this gorgeous magenta head (pro-tip: the most bitter part is the white, so go with the red parts if you have a sensitive eater). The most common you’ll see is a round, tightly furled head, but sometimes you see long heads which essentially look like colorful endive (called rossa di Treviso). First off, radicchio was born to go with cheese—its bitterness provides the perfect foil for even the saltiest of cheeses. It also pairs well with sweet things. It lends a lovely hue to pasta. Like endive, it grills beautifully. It somehow works in this riff on sauerkraut. Take advantage of that color around the holidays. It can get funky with steaks. It adds another beautiful layer to a veggie main. Roast it with chicken and it picks up those irresistible juices. It wraps. File under: Weird, but it works!

This is the tiniest member of the endive family, and is sometimes known as curly endive. It has that same signature bitterness, but its scale and its lacy feel in the mouth means that it tastes more mild. Its absolute most classic incarnation is in the French frisée aux lardons, a perfect bistro salad that slicks the tiny leaves with a sharply acidic vinaigrette, then tosses them with salty nuggets of thick-sliced bacon and tops the whole with a soft-cooked egg, so that the yolk can ooze out and become part of the dressing—heavenly. (Here’s another bacon-forward frisée salad, or you can bring that energy to a burger or egg sandwich.) There are lots of things you can do with frisée, but the best ones usually take advantage of its bitterness, combining it with something acidic and something rich. It plays well with other veggies…and we love a misticanza. It can bring a pretty little flourish to the top of any dish, like a tasty pompadour. It can dress up a more lowbrow food and it’s fun in a sandwich.

Remember “shcarole” on The Sopranos? This is what they were talking about. Indeed, it is very popular with Italian Americans (case in point). Which jumps the gun to talk about how this gently bitter salad leaf, another member of the chicory family, cooks beautifully, yielding into something soft and mild, more along the lines of a spinach or chard. It provides an ideal bed for steaming fish, mellowing, protecting a protein from heat and soaking up some of its flavor (try this too). Try it in a minestrone with meatballs or white bean soup. Or wilted in pasta (it goes great with whole-wheat pasta too). Gnocchi and baked pasta too. Braise it for a brilliant side dish. It’s yum in a salty-acidic salad or with rich food. Char it to bring another interesting dimension to salad. Toss it into the slow cooker for a hearty dinner.

This adorable romaine-butter lettuce hybrid is more available these days, and that’s a boon. It brings a little magic to dinner, as likeable as romaine but cuter, crisper and sweeter. (Seriously, cute.) Try it in a Caesar. It’s almost the same as you expect, but you’ll wonder, why is it just a little more fun? Char it and add bacon, which improves everything. Pair it with more assertive flavors. The smallness makes it perfect for hors d’oeuvres-sized lettuce cups (like these, too… or crudités nachos!). Pair it with baby greens. Throw it in a noodle bowl.

Twenty-five years ago, no one would ever have dreamed of including kale on a list of salad greens. But how times have changed! The advent of massaged kale salads has elevated this leafy member of the cabbage family, once the scoffed-at “health nut” green, to one that is found on trendy restaurant menus everywhere. But before you scoff—have you ever actually tasted a kale chip? They are so simple to make, and we can’t get enough. (Also try smoky, lemony, barbecue, za'atar, Parmesan or ranch.) But let’s get back to salads. One thing that makes a kale salad so great is it tastes just as fresh on the second day. This one is rich and delicious. It can bring an interesting and hearty twist on a Caesar. Tuscan kale salad is particularly beautiful, using the bumpy, waxy version of kale sometimes also called “dinosaur kale”. It’s a fun choice for sauteing, softening somewhat but retaining its curly texture. You can cream it like spinach; ditto on maintaining those curls. It’s classic in caldo verde, the Portuguese kale and potato soup with chourico. It’s aces in a one-skillet dinner or a casserole, even a breakfast casserole or strata. Try it in a rice bowl. It’s so good with baked pasta. You will eat every last leaf when it’s cooked with chicken drippings. This recipe is just a mic-drop, the citrusy zest and honey drizzle balancing the greens’ earthiness. And let’s not forget smoothies!