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I believe pasta salads are the unofficial picnic diplomacy of summer — you bring one and suddenly everyone is civil (until someone eats the last forkful). Also: I will fight anyone who says creamy is the only way. This version is light, tangy, and — yes — has bow tie pasta because bows make everything look more like a party (even if your party is a sad desk lunch). If you want a totally different vibe, try my harvest pasta salad for more fall-friendly energy, but this one? This one is pure California Pasta Salad Recipe energy — bright, summer, easy.

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Oh man, the first time I tried this I made a noise that sounded like a rubber chicken. True story. It was more of a steam-hiss-squish than a gasp. I overcooked the farfalle until it looked like tiny soft pillows and then dressed it while it was still steaming because I thought hot pasta absorbs dressing better (it does, by the way, absorb — into sadness). The smell? Warm oil and wilted sweetness, like a garden that moved into a sauna. Texture: sad. Sound: the bowl scraped in a way that told me it was ashamed. I also used cheap olives (never use cheap olives unless you want the punchline to your own joke) and a red onion that bit back. People clapped politely and then took small forks. There was an awkward silence. I pretended it was rustic.

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Somewhere between that whipped-sad-bowl and now I stopped trying to impress and started paying attention. I chilled the pasta. I learned that dressing and cheese behave like two bickering roommates until you whisk them—then they get along. I stopped assuming more was better and trusted a tablespoon less (emotionally and in practice). This California Pasta Salad Recipe finally works because I got pragmatic: cool pasta, crisp veg, bold dressing, and a tiny, unnecessary bit of drama (Parmesan makes it feel fancy). And also because I have fewer illusions about my technique now. Confidence? Yes. Doubt? Always. But the salad? It listens.

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14 oz bow tie (farfalle) pasta
1 cup zesty Italian salad dressing
3 tbsp grated Parmesan cheese
7 oz cherry tomatoes, halved
1 medium cucumber, diced
½ large green bell pepper, diced
½ large red bell pepper, diced
½ small red onion, finely chopped
1 small can sliced black olives (3.5 oz), drained

Budget-friendly and pantry-friendly (use whatever colored peppers look depressed at the store), texture is the hero here — keep things crisp. If cherry tomatoes are out of season (RIP), grape tomatoes or chopped Roma will do.

And if you like a tomato-mozzarella mood, you might also enjoy a Caprese pasta salad twist for a cheese-forward detour.

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Cook the bow tie pasta in salted boiling water until al dente. Drain and rinse under cold water.
In a mixing bowl, combine chopped cherry tomatoes, cucumber, bell peppers, red onion, and black olives.
In another bowl, whisk together the Italian dressing and grated Parmesan until smooth.
Add the cooled pasta to the vegetables and pour the dressing over the top; toss gently to coat.
Chill in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes before serving.

Non-linear tip: chill the pasta if you like, or don’t (I swing both ways). If the dressing seems shy, add a splash more but not too much or it will get clingy. WHISK. Seriously — it changes everything. Also, consider stirring halfway through chilling so the flavors marry more evenly (I say “consider” because I sometimes forget).

If you want a totally different finish — like, dramatic and balsamic — check out this a balsamic-glazed caprese spin I flirted with once.

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Do you also have a drawer of mismatched Tupperware like it’s a tiny, selfish society? Same. Who hasn’t had a child (or partner, or overly helpful neighbor) sample the salad before it chills? Be honest. Who brings a salad to a potluck and then eats half of it on the way because they can’t be trusted? (Hands raised.) Tell me your swap ideas — I’ll tell you mine. Would you add corn? Feta? No? Yes? This is our comment-section greased-up kitchen where everyone thinks they’re right and often they are. (Except for the person who microwaves olives. That one — no.)

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Can I make this ahead of time? +

Yes, make it a few hours ahead and chill. It gets friendlier with time but not forever — after a day it softens, and we lose that crisp personality.

How long will it keep in the fridge? +

About 3–4 days if covered and chilly. Don’t treat it like leftovers from a dare.

Can I swap the dressing? +

Absolutely. Use a vinaigrette if you want lighter. If you reach for mayo, I won’t stop you, but we will have a talk about texture.

Is it gluten-free? +

Not as written — but swap in a gluten-free pasta and we’ll pretend we planned that all along.

Any tips for making it kid-friendly? +

Cut the veg smaller, skip the onion, and add a tiny bit of sugar to the dressing (don’t judge me). Bribery works too.

I keep thinking about how a simple salad can fix the world (or at least the table). It’s dumb but true. Also, somewhere there’s a postcard from a high school cafeteria telling me I’m right. I need to go find it but also I forgot my keys and someone is ringing the doorbell and —