I love salad. I eat it almost every day: as a meal, as a side, sometimes as a side to another salad. What I don’t like is a bad salad, and I’ve had hundreds of those, often made by me. Baby spinach tossed with watery feta and stale almonds; dried cranberries with even drier quinoa; roast pumpkin and beetroot swimming in oil – the list goes on.
Salad is probably one of the most vague and confusing food categories. It could include gado gado, raw beef larb, dressed herring and even “jello salad”. But the kind I’m talking about here is the typical leafy green and dressed variety found in homes and restaurants across the Anglo world.
