I’m on a salad kick, and I don’t care who knows it. It wasn’t really a conscious decision, it just kind of happened one day when I brought home a big box of pre-washed spring mix salad greens and started eating.
But even after munching down a ton of it, a few days in I was all like, holly crap, the more I eat of this box of greens the more it seems to grow. It was like a fake-bottomed plastic container, or a clown car offering up endless salad. And my Jewish guilt wouldn’t allow me to let it go bad.
So I bought cucumbers and all manner of tomatoes. I peeled carrots and chopped up radishes and mushrooms. I bought gourmet croutons and nuts and sprouts and seeds and cheese. Cans of tuna and salmon, too. I boiled some eggs and even picked up some terrific Newman's Own dressing (may I suggest the Family Recipe Italian or the straightforward Caesar) to make the task less arduous when I didn’t feel like shaking up a lemon or balsamic vinaigrette.
I guess it was about a week ago when I suddenly realized that making these salads with the pre-washed lettuce and chunking up a bit of this and shaking on a bit of that, took about the same time it takes to make a bowl of cold cereal, and less time than a sandwich.
And that’s when I finally finished the box of pre-washed spring mix greens.
But then I went shopping again and discovered the San Marino mix, (which is full of baby arugula – score!) and the whole damn process started again.
But you know something? I feel great.
Salad: Try it again for the first time.
I’m off to Whistler tomorrow to attend the GoMedia conference, which is kind of like speed dating for travel writers, whereby an international group of scribes meet with Canadian tourism representatives to discuss story ideas – along with a little horseback riding, hiking, and fancy dinners thrown in for good measure. Then it’s on to Vancouver until the end of the month to catch up with friends, but I will be blogging if I eat anything especially delicious out west -- which you can pretty much bank on.