Since I was old enough to blink, we've had the same salad bowl in our family. It's a wooden bowl with the inch-wide top of the rim painted red, the rest a burnt orange, with a design on the inside with black, red, yellow and outlined (clear) figures walking in a circle with instruments, animals walking along too, perhaps with a maraca in mouth, dancing jovially with musical notes emanating from their mouths — singing.
It's a joyful display, and one that I didn't really notice until the summer before I left for college, when I was trying to take in every element of my house before I left it for the first time. It was a staple of our family dinners for the duration of my youth.
It's only now, in this era where everyone is thinking about salad more than they ever had before, where I realize why this display is what's found on a salad bowl. Because America is a salad. The world is a salad. America is both part of and its own salad. The people I have met, the friends I have made, the influences I have surrounded myself. It is all a salad. A salad is what lives within the environment. The salad bowl is that environment. The earth is our salad bowl. It is designed — as my salad bowl at home is — for us to interact, merrily, and to indulge in its finer provisions: music, laughter, joy, friendship and pets.
We've realized lately, like I have, that our salad bowl is important. The green movement, which is something we often associate with salads, is going to take an effort from all parties, all parts of the salad, to maintain. We need to realize that salads are good, not just decent. You can dress them, add meat to them, do whatever it takes, but you do it so that you can eat a salad. Because you need to feel that buzz you get from pitching in, because when you eat that salad, you help yourself, you feel like your helping the world, and you know you're making plants feel better about themselves.
Don't forget the salad bowl. For within it, lies all of us.
--Eliot Sill
Showing posts with label salads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label salads. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Salad Art
Part I- Introduction /
Important Facts
I like salad. A lot. A controversial statement for this blog, it seems. Do I love salad?
Perhaps...
If you know anything about me, you know that I am a vegetarian.
You are probably thinking that this fact makes me biased in regards to salad.
Maybe you are even thinking that a favorite pastime of mine must be eating a
nice bowl of leaves, a few varieties of vegetables, and certainly no
dressing. You are imagining me committing to salad each and every day
for the rest of my life when I decided to omit meat from my diet three years
ago.
MYTH: vegetarians/vegans only eat salad.
DID YOU KNOW: We also consume fruits, noodles, rice, and various
other sources of protein as well as processed foods (unless you are this cool)!
I like to eat noodles and rice and cooked vegetables. I love to eat noodles and rice and cooked
vegetables. My diet is primarily Asian and I am forever addicted to Thai food.
Even though Asian dishes are fun to make, they require cooking
and stoves, thus, more effort.
Part II- I Am Salad Art
(And So Can You!)
Baking and
cooking can totally be forms of artistic expression, yet salads are easier to prepare and
healthier. I think that’s pretty cool! I grew up eating a salad with every
dinner time meal, and it wasn’t until this year I discovered what I shall refer
to as salad art.
I got into said salad art when
I went serious grocery shopping for myself for the first time last fall. I was
overwhelmed by the variety of leaves. Seriously. It’s probably like choosing
between chicken, steak, and (??) for an omnivore dining at that restaurant
called Chipotle Mexican Grill (I think???). Anyway. Spring greens? Kale? Spinach?
Herbs? Arugula? Lettuce? I went insane.
The next step in the process of salad art can only be taken on once you have decided upon a bed of
leaves in which to hold the future components of the salad. It is even pretty
cool to mix different varieties of leaves. These next components are totally about
aesthetic and involve the greatest amount of effort. I'm talking about vegetables, of course. Slicin’ up eyeballs vegetables is oddly
satisfying, plus they often look awesome on the inside and you can use any technique you like. Infinite slicing possibilities! Splashes of various colors in a sea of green!
If leafy greens and various, chopped vegetables are the essentials of salad art, you will probably want to add unique touches to your salad. This is inclusive of things such as fruit, nuts, cheese, and some sort of odd liquid known as salad dressing. This is where you can go wild, or be modest. Explore the boundaries of salad itself, or stick to family or cultural traditions.
When you feel content with your salad creation, you can eat it all yourself, share it with friends, feed the homeless or possibly an animal. Just think about it, salad art can save lives and provide energy- all while you were given the opportunity to express yourself.
WOAH.
 |
| salad art featuring kale, carrots, a variety of cheese I have forgotten, and delicious gingery dressing, circa January 2012 (made for myself) |
 | |
| not salad art / I just really wanted to post this one |
-Caitlin
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Nick - A Componential Analysis Of Salads
Tomatoes
3/10
Lacking the firmness of most vegetables and lacking the tastiness of most fruits, tomatoes are nature's bastard child. What's even the draw to eating them? I don't know why I'd ever partake in one.
Lettuce
8/10
Lettuce is crunchy and refreshing, like rock climbing through a mountain waterfall. It's kind of tasteless though. Not that I mind.
Dressing
1/10
I can't eat this. This stuff is gross. It has, like, vinegar in it? What's that all about? I mean, it just tastes bad. Also it's bad for you. I don't understand you people.
Croutons
10/10
Salads are a facade. Salads are a thinly veiled attempt to eat croutons as a meal. Croutons have a salty, flavorful crunch that reminds me of ambrosia, or of lightning made of happiness.
Carrots
6/10
I like carrots. Carrots are good. When you put carrots on salads, you slice them up into tiny, tasteless pieces. But we all know why they're really there: to make it colorful. If you can add some orange in there with your greens and purples, it looks pretty. It looks way too pretty to be food. I'm awarding points for prettiness and because carrots and I go way back, but let's not lose sight of the practicality here.
Sunflower Seeds
9/10
Big fan. Sunflower seeds are so fucking delicious. They come in two varieties: the seasoned and unseasoned kind. Both are delicious in their own right. Way better than those stupid ones you buy in bags and you have to spit out the shells so often that it's not even worth it. I'm docking one point because they are small and they usually slip through my salad to the bottom.
Purple Things
4/10
I don't really know what these are, but they don't taste like too much of anything? They're pretty because they are purple, but also they just aren't very good.
Olives
1/10
Nope, not having it. Olives are not tasty. Their texture is gross. Eating olives is like eating eyeballs, except that they lack the protein.
Salads
4/10
-Nick.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
A Philosophical Crisis on the Subject of Salads
robert langellier
Oh my god, what is a salad?
Language is here to signify things, right? And so a word represents a thing, a thing or a concept or some thought that can be visualized in your mind. And so what is a salad? It's so flexible. That word can go so many places. Like, like, what constitutes it? What universal boundaries does a salad abide by, do you know what I'm saying? What are the edges of a salad, what are its basic requirements? I know there are leaves involved, leaves man, leaves are involved in fucking a lot of things. Maybe a tree is a salad. Okay, salads also have other edible things in them. I would say that's in the definition, maybe requirements are a) must have leaves and b) must have not leaves. Except trees bear fruit, man, so is a tree a salad? There's no fucking requirement for what "not leaves" is. Conor puts raisins in his salads raisins raisins. That pretty much kicks down the door for anything, there go the floodgates, I think. Maybe I'll put headphones in my salad. I'll have my salad with some flags in it, thank you very much. Put a full grown tree in my salad, put a salad in my salad, if that doesn't tear a hole in whatever dimension salads live in, and yeah then put that interdimensional hole in my salad thanks. I'm so worried about salads, because what does that do to language? What does that mean for communication, what does it say about all of our words, do you hear? Am I coming through to you do these words even mean anything DO MY WORDS MEAN THE SAME THING TO ME AS THEY DO TO YOU what is my message that I'm sending if you tell it back to me correctly, what's to say that those words that sound accurate and correct in my head don't mean something totally different in your universe in your head LIKE I'M SAYING WHAT IF THE COLOR GREEN FOR ME IS YELLOW FOR YOU? What about salad dressing, salad dressing? What are the boundaries of dressing? That it needs to be liquid? It can be white and goopy or just this red thin runny watery vinagre or basically anything, so it just needs to be liquid. Well water, water falls from the sky and really gets all over the lettuce in the trees, so the trees, the trees are definitely salads. I have two tall salads in my backyard. I'm surprised nobody's eaten them, they've been sitting there for a half a century. I guess you could say that salads are supposed to be edible, but man I remember some salads that have been just... I mean, there are people who put raisins in their salads. So I don't know what to think, man, can you really just say salads are intangible undefinable ineffable but very real, like I know it when I see it, like salads are some kind of threshold test for court case pornography? I don't think so, no, no, I don't buy into that game. I've become skeptical as to the existence of salads. I see piles of fruit and leaves, I see piles of meat and leaves, I see piles of raisins and leaves, which okay I guess that goes in the former category, I see piles of bread and peanuts and leaves, I see maple trees, I don't see salads. No, No, I refuse to let the foundations of my language, of my universe, to come crashing down on account of a salad. On account of a nothing, a thing that doesn't exist. So yes, I will have a pile of fruit and leaves. And put some liquid on it. I want it to taste good. Or, or, I guess, to taste alright. I'm on a diet, actually.
Oh my god, what is a salad?
Language is here to signify things, right? And so a word represents a thing, a thing or a concept or some thought that can be visualized in your mind. And so what is a salad? It's so flexible. That word can go so many places. Like, like, what constitutes it? What universal boundaries does a salad abide by, do you know what I'm saying? What are the edges of a salad, what are its basic requirements? I know there are leaves involved, leaves man, leaves are involved in fucking a lot of things. Maybe a tree is a salad. Okay, salads also have other edible things in them. I would say that's in the definition, maybe requirements are a) must have leaves and b) must have not leaves. Except trees bear fruit, man, so is a tree a salad? There's no fucking requirement for what "not leaves" is. Conor puts raisins in his salads raisins raisins. That pretty much kicks down the door for anything, there go the floodgates, I think. Maybe I'll put headphones in my salad. I'll have my salad with some flags in it, thank you very much. Put a full grown tree in my salad, put a salad in my salad, if that doesn't tear a hole in whatever dimension salads live in, and yeah then put that interdimensional hole in my salad thanks. I'm so worried about salads, because what does that do to language? What does that mean for communication, what does it say about all of our words, do you hear? Am I coming through to you do these words even mean anything DO MY WORDS MEAN THE SAME THING TO ME AS THEY DO TO YOU what is my message that I'm sending if you tell it back to me correctly, what's to say that those words that sound accurate and correct in my head don't mean something totally different in your universe in your head LIKE I'M SAYING WHAT IF THE COLOR GREEN FOR ME IS YELLOW FOR YOU? What about salad dressing, salad dressing? What are the boundaries of dressing? That it needs to be liquid? It can be white and goopy or just this red thin runny watery vinagre or basically anything, so it just needs to be liquid. Well water, water falls from the sky and really gets all over the lettuce in the trees, so the trees, the trees are definitely salads. I have two tall salads in my backyard. I'm surprised nobody's eaten them, they've been sitting there for a half a century. I guess you could say that salads are supposed to be edible, but man I remember some salads that have been just... I mean, there are people who put raisins in their salads. So I don't know what to think, man, can you really just say salads are intangible undefinable ineffable but very real, like I know it when I see it, like salads are some kind of threshold test for court case pornography? I don't think so, no, no, I don't buy into that game. I've become skeptical as to the existence of salads. I see piles of fruit and leaves, I see piles of meat and leaves, I see piles of raisins and leaves, which okay I guess that goes in the former category, I see piles of bread and peanuts and leaves, I see maple trees, I don't see salads. No, No, I refuse to let the foundations of my language, of my universe, to come crashing down on account of a salad. On account of a nothing, a thing that doesn't exist. So yes, I will have a pile of fruit and leaves. And put some liquid on it. I want it to taste good. Or, or, I guess, to taste alright. I'm on a diet, actually.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Approximately How I Feel About Salads
They're alright. I mean, you could do better than a salad, unless it's a really good salad, in which case maybe you couldn't do better, because salads have stuff other things cannot provide. If you have a salad, you won't find all of the qualities of a salad improved upon in the form of a steak. You'll have a steak, but you'll also have a negative salad. Because you traded in your salad. But then again, some salads are weak and not worthwhile. So which salads are the best ones to choose? That's up to you. I like expensive salads, but I don't like the expense required to obtain one. So salads, they're okay. Because they have good things and bad things. They could be better but could also, obviously, be worse. The thing is when you're eating a salad is that if you were eating something else, you'd be doing what most everyone else is doing, because most of the things people eat aren't salads. Usually they're eating breakfast food, or chicken.
Dressings are good for salads in the way that gas is good for cars. A salad cannot physically move anywhere without dressing. It can't move anywhere with dressing, but at least there's something alive in there. Chicken, as Conor stated, is really good in salads. But don't worry about justification, because if you're eating a salad, most likely nobody cares. Most salads are eaten without anyone giving a single fuck. The eater of the salad may have a sense of comfort from having just eaten a salad, but then again, who is he going to tell? Because that could only come off as conceited. There are some really great things about salad, but there is nothing terrible about salads. They fail to break you down while building you up however much you allow them to. But you could allow them to not build you up at all, if you put a lot of fatty items in them.
Fruit salads, those aren't even salads. I'm talking about a meat salad. Where you put chicken and beef and pork together, with a mixture of nuts and maybe one specific type of lettuce. Chase down your throat with milk and you'll get the fullest nutritional value.
Some things about salads aren't even worth talking about; like the forks. Salad forks are special forks. What other food items have put in the work to split one of the three main silverware items to split forms for the purpose of accommodating that single item? Answer: soup. Soups and salads are special because they necessitate additional silverware. So, that's something that other foods (chicken, ice cream, toast) cannot claim. Now I know what you're thinking: what about butter spreaders? We shouldn't count those because butter spreaders are a staple of country club dining, but are best used for crackers and they already have butter knives to ... oh, I almost forgot steak! Soup, salad and steak. That's six silverware items on your plate!
Salads have contributed to society.
--Eliot Sill
Dressings are good for salads in the way that gas is good for cars. A salad cannot physically move anywhere without dressing. It can't move anywhere with dressing, but at least there's something alive in there. Chicken, as Conor stated, is really good in salads. But don't worry about justification, because if you're eating a salad, most likely nobody cares. Most salads are eaten without anyone giving a single fuck. The eater of the salad may have a sense of comfort from having just eaten a salad, but then again, who is he going to tell? Because that could only come off as conceited. There are some really great things about salad, but there is nothing terrible about salads. They fail to break you down while building you up however much you allow them to. But you could allow them to not build you up at all, if you put a lot of fatty items in them.
Fruit salads, those aren't even salads. I'm talking about a meat salad. Where you put chicken and beef and pork together, with a mixture of nuts and maybe one specific type of lettuce. Chase down your throat with milk and you'll get the fullest nutritional value.
Some things about salads aren't even worth talking about; like the forks. Salad forks are special forks. What other food items have put in the work to split one of the three main silverware items to split forms for the purpose of accommodating that single item? Answer: soup. Soups and salads are special because they necessitate additional silverware. So, that's something that other foods (chicken, ice cream, toast) cannot claim. Now I know what you're thinking: what about butter spreaders? We shouldn't count those because butter spreaders are a staple of country club dining, but are best used for crackers and they already have butter knives to ... oh, I almost forgot steak! Soup, salad and steak. That's six silverware items on your plate!
Salads have contributed to society.
--Eliot Sill
Conor - Exactly How I Feel About Salads
Salads are decent! Sometimes I'm like 'man, I really want a salad,' and sometimes when I think about what I want to eat soon, salads don't even cross my mind!
For those of you who just tuned in, this post is about salads.
According to the first thing that comes up when you google "salad definition" a salad is a dish of raw leafy vegetables, often tossed with pieces of other raw or cooked vegetables, fruit, cheese or other ingredients and served with a dressing. That's true! If you want more factual information on this stuff, the wikipedia page on salads is exactly as boring as you think it is.
There are tons and tons of different types of lettuce and leafy vegetables that can serve as the foundation of a salad. Don't really worry yourself about picking a specific kind! Pretty much no matter what you choose I bet it's going to end up tasting like a salad. Salads are hard to fuck up. I guess if someone had a gun to my head, and was demanding lots of specific information on the ingredients that would make up my ideal salad, I would end up choosing a crispy kind of lettuce, but hey. I don't really care.
Chicken is good in salads if you find yourself with a salad but you're also like "I'm kind of disappointed by what I'm about to eat." Chicken somehow justifies the salad.
Raisins! Man, raisins are really good in salads in turns out. Some people like cheese in their salads, but seeing as how I don't like cheese to begin with, liking cheese in my salad would be silly, because salads don't improve cheese. Salads don't really improve anything.
Salads do provide me with a socially acceptable way to consume lots and lots of Italian dressing, though. I would drink this shit straight, if my parents would continue to buy it after they discovered that we were running through this salad dressing so quickly because I was drinking cups of it a day. I don't think they'd do that. Dressing, man, fuck. It is unreasonably delicious. Except for that bullshit ranch dressing. Italian, balsamic vinaigrette, raspberry vinaigrette, these are all solid choices. Drench the whole thing in dressing. Negate any possible opportunity to feel good about yourself because you had a salad for dinner or whatever. Screw that, you had a side of salad, the main course was whatever the hell makes up salad dressing. That's a subject for another day though.
After writing this I actually do want a salad. I'm surprised by this. I want a salad in a theoretical sense. I'm about to go to bed, and when I wake up I bet I'll end up wanting something better than a salad for lunch.
Such as really anything other than a salad.
Salads: B-
Dressing: A
 |
| I only sortof want to eat this |
According to the first thing that comes up when you google "salad definition" a salad is a dish of raw leafy vegetables, often tossed with pieces of other raw or cooked vegetables, fruit, cheese or other ingredients and served with a dressing. That's true! If you want more factual information on this stuff, the wikipedia page on salads is exactly as boring as you think it is.
There are tons and tons of different types of lettuce and leafy vegetables that can serve as the foundation of a salad. Don't really worry yourself about picking a specific kind! Pretty much no matter what you choose I bet it's going to end up tasting like a salad. Salads are hard to fuck up. I guess if someone had a gun to my head, and was demanding lots of specific information on the ingredients that would make up my ideal salad, I would end up choosing a crispy kind of lettuce, but hey. I don't really care.
Chicken is good in salads if you find yourself with a salad but you're also like "I'm kind of disappointed by what I'm about to eat." Chicken somehow justifies the salad.
Raisins! Man, raisins are really good in salads in turns out. Some people like cheese in their salads, but seeing as how I don't like cheese to begin with, liking cheese in my salad would be silly, because salads don't improve cheese. Salads don't really improve anything.
 |
| Oh shit. Ooooooh shit. |
After writing this I actually do want a salad. I'm surprised by this. I want a salad in a theoretical sense. I'm about to go to bed, and when I wake up I bet I'll end up wanting something better than a salad for lunch.
Such as really anything other than a salad.
Salads: B-
Dressing: A
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)