steak salad

This is three thick slabs of the Baron of Beef roast from Tonys, fried, seasoned, and thinly sliced to strips, avocado, English cucumber, a single green onion, deep rich cheddar cheese.

The vinaigrette is rice vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper, prepared mustard and clover honey.

Together they are quite something and better than any of the salads we had on the road which is very strange when you consider how simple this is. And that we were driving through America's bread basket. It's so easy to get salads right and yet everyone gives them the short shrift and blows it. My own mum took salads as perfunctory. My dad derided salads as rabbit food, and the only dressing they knew came in bottles so they bought all of them. Every salad dressing offered. Every dinner involved dragging out all the bottles of dressing all at once. So each of us kids had our own flavor. It was ridiculous, a state of affairs that endured my entire time at home.

Until I returned home. 

I said, "Mum, let me make the salad." Nobody got their choice of dressing as they were accustomed. That put them a bit off. Mum rejects mushrooms but she never ate one that didn't come out of a tin or a jar. I dolled up regular prepared and dressed dinner salads. The next dinner Mum copied the style. She was paying attention at how to be just a tiny bit creative if only by cutting things differently, irregularly, and using a variety of vegetables, mixing raw with blanched and with meat and cheese. I sat there amazed gazing at this marvel of Mum learning a new trick on her own, just copying. Before I could fashion a compliment without also reminding negatively about previous salads, she said. 

"Say, Bobby, how do like your salad? Huh?"

"I like it a lot. Very creative."

"You're rubbing off on me, Kid." 

My dad didn't notice a difference.