Bow Before Me Peon, for I Am a $23 Salad

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’Tis I, the $23 Salad. Bow before me, peon, for you are in the presence of a noble. Yes, I am by far the most expensive gourmet salad at Dave’s West Side Bistro. I saw you eyeballing me on the menu, right after you checked out Dave’s Wood-Fired Margarita Pizza and the Signature Mojo Beef Kabobs.

You wish to know my regal nature? I am a blackberry spinach salad of late summer, with grilled Tropea lunga onions, pickled golden beets and curried pili nuts, sumptuously tossed with a tamarind-ginger dressing, dashed with Himalayan salt, and topped with a whipped sheep’s milk halloumi.

My ingredients have their origins in 3 continents, 6 world cultures, and 2 non-Abrahamic religions. Two of my ingredients have resulted in prolonged tariff wars among foreign empires and one in an actual land war. I am $24.87, including tax.

Did you say that you are in a bit of a rush? You want something somewhat light, but still fancy, right before you and your date truck out of here to a late-night improv show? Ha! Pathetic! Do not even consider eating me. I demand to be savored!

And how dare you consider ordering me with a cup of Dave’s soup du jour or half a tuna sandwich! Shut your mouth and mind your salad manners. Dave’s doesn’t even serve tuna sandwiches! You are a supremely clueless oaf, trying to create a classically mish mashed cafeteria meal out of me.

If you wish to taste my scrumptious flesh, you must be adventurous of palate and heavy of wallet; in short, a card-carrying gastronomer of the highest rank! Only the top 3% of Dave’s West Side Bistro patrons are able to pass this mighty bar.

I hail from a long, hereditary line of plated vegetable medleys, all created by the master himself: Dave Romano. My father is a proud French Mesclun, tossed with wine vinegar and topped with truffles and julienned Vitelottes. My mother is a buoyant jicama and cantaloupe salad, drizzled with a zesty raspberry vinaigrette and a chiffonade of mint. Sadly, mother has a weakness for becoming inebriated and yelling slurs at oddly-shaped tomatoes. My sister is an arugula salad with shaved carrots, tossed in a zippy mango chutney. She loves horses and knock-knock jokes. We do not get along. My half-brother, Lawrence the bastard, is a pot roast.

Dave fashioned me one Thursday night while hopped up on white wine. He was working on his new Spring menu items when, suddenly, he had a gleam in his eye. He declared that he wanted to make, “A gourmet salad fit for a prince. Something that really rips some ass.” And then, like a thunderbolt from heaven, I was born!

And now no one can stand in my way! I cost as much as 12.4 Starbucks Tall Coffees or 1.3 ounces of silver! I am priced equally to a main dish, but I am not nearly as filling!

You shall take your leave now, peon. I suggest you consort with Dave’s Bistro Burger or one of the other common dishes. It takes a true master to eat a $23 salad like me. And when it comes to finding the eater, I can wait forever, if necessary.

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Gourmet Salad pic courtesy of unsplash

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Hyoom

Hyoom is a site for humorous, thoughtful writing. At Hyoom, truth is respected but not dispensed freely, like so much loose change.