Farro fed Roman legions. This ancient grain sustained an empire, and yet most American cooks have never touched it. That's a shame worth correcting. Farro has a chew that rice cannot match, a nuttiness that quinoa only hints at, and a sturdiness that makes it the ideal foundation for a salad meant to travel.

The Italians have been making grain salads for centuries, long before they became fashionable at Brooklyn lunch counters. In Tuscany, you'll find farro dressed simply with good olive oil, fresh tomatoes, and torn basil. This version takes that honest foundation and builds upon it with deeply roasted vegetables, their edges gone dark and sweet from proper caramelization.

What makes this salad exceptional for potlucks is its patience. Unlike delicate lettuces that wilt at the first hint of dressing, farro drinks in the vinaigrette and improves. Make it in the morning, let it sit, and by evening the flavors have married into something greater than their parts. The vegetables soften slightly, the herbs release their oils, and the whole thing tastes like it was made by someone who knows what they're doing. Because you do.