I remember when I ate salads almost everyday. I would unpack my lunch at my desk and coworkers would say "Wow, that looks great! and so healthy..." I would eat my salad with lemon juice or a bit of olive oil and vinegar, and I liked it that way.
At the time I was vegetarian, maybe pescatarian. And I rarely ate any dairy. There have been some physiological changes in me since those days, and I'm out of the (very good) habit of just throwing together a salad for lunch.
These days I still have to trick myself a little with those tastier tidbits an omnivorous palate is used to having around. A bit of cheese, some torn bits of meat, and salad dressing. (Though I happy to say I use less than the suggested serving size)
Lately, the only time I've been eating a salad is when it is the path of least resistance. If a salad is the easiest thing to make, then it wins. Sometimes I forget that all the odd bits and ends in the fridge could even become a salad! Ian suggested I make a pretty "EAT A SALAD" sign to hang on the cupboard as a loving reminder. It's on my list of things to make (I'm currently working on my first sock puppet).
Making salads always reminds me of my step-dad David. He puts together an amazing salad. You could eat a David Salad for days. He could make you salad everyday for a week and it would be different everytime. Today you get olives, tomorrow you get garbanzo beans and artichoke hearts...the next day there are beans and peppers. These days, when I get all the fixins on the counter and my salad seems to be missing an element, I find myself wondering "what else would David put in here?"
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