Have you ever wanted to eat healthy but just cannot despite your best efforts actually be that person? I wish I could snap my fingers and automatically not like deserts and snack food and God forbid I never liked fried chicken. My life would be worlds easier if I didn’t love me some fried chicken. So, if you came to read this to get inspired to eat healthy and order salads, let me tell you right now that you came to the wrong place.
But, there was this one time; I ordered a fricken salad.
It’s date night and we go to 54th street grill. It was impromptu but me and Kyle were both having, for the lack of a better word, a shitty day. Obviously, when I have that sort of awful bite your nails, crush cans with your fists (not really), cry at the sight of romantic comedy characters perfect fake life sort of days I crave the grills waffle fry and casa blanca queso (I always mess up its proper title). Obviously. So we’re there and suddenly I have a change of heart. I feel crummy and in a moment of weakness I think to myself that a salad would make me feel better. I’m crazy, I know. Why in my right mind I would ever consider vegetables more soothing then the saturated happiness that is deep fried goodness of anything? Beats me. Honestly, I can’t be the only one who thinks carbs are much easier to eat then cut out. So it’s been ordered and I immediately have a change of heart, of course now that I’ve ordered the waitress is no where to be found. I don’t know what I’d get instead..
Breaded chicken on more bread?
Burger with that stuff they now says causes cancer (bacon)?
Anyway, I see the food runner there and she is holding my salad, which by the way is a buffalo chicken salad without the normal Bleu cheese it’s served with and two types of ranch cause I’m indecisive, and of course I can’t tell the food runner I changed my mind cause she doesn’t know the extent of the conversation I just had with myself. So, I eat it. The bowl of green unhappiness is admittedly not comfort food but it was actually so good. I’ve never been more pleased with the inevitably bad timing of my social awkwardness meets anxiety cocktail.
Which brings me to this anecdote, a teacher once told me that America isn’t a melting pot (stay with me) because in a baked good like cake where all the ingredients melt together you don’t eat cake and say “wow I love that baking soda” or “you can really taste the egg” no you like the cake as a whole and culturally America isn’t like that. We don’t melt together and become one culture. We are more of a chopped salad, the tomato, the chicken, the ranch, Bleu cheese if you fancy it, are all different flavors you can appreciate individually and all collectively they make America. We have different cultures that are all unique in their own ways and are individually tasty and when you put them all together you have a fabulous chopped salad. Kind of a cool way to think about it yes?