Salad Days, Week Nine in the No Longer New Abnormal

“Salad can get a bad rap. People think of bland and watery iceberg lettuce, but in fact, salads are an art form.” — Marcus Samuelsson

I made miso dressing this past week. It turned out well. I tweaked the recipe so that it had a slight sweetness to balance the umami tones. Before that it was buttermilk dressing. Growing up we had a fresh salad every night. And my mother was a stickler for homemade dressing. She favored vinaigrettes when I got older, but before that we enjoyed homemade Russian dressing, Thousand Island Dressing, Italian, and Roquefort. There was a distinct difference between her dressings and the bottled versions of Wishbone and Kraft.

The same was true of baked goods. Though my mother was a health advocate, adding up to ten vegetables in our salads, when guests were visiting or a birthday was upon us, she baked from scratch. I could tell immediately when a boxed mix was served because, once again, there was a noticeable discrepancy between completely homemade and Betty Crocker. Because our mother also taught us manners, though I was disappointed when bottled salad dressing or boxed cake was served, I simply say, “Thank you,” rather than explain the virtues of flavor from the real thing.