Earlier this year, I started saying no. No to promoting food-related gadgets, because I live in a New York small apartment with limited storage. No to promoting food samples, because the pay isn’t great and the contests aren’t worth my time. No to writing reviews for below-average cookbooks, because the pay isn’t great. No to freelance design, because I design full-time during the weekday. No to doing more social media, because it’s time consuming. No to special theme Saturday brunches requiring me to discard the one day a week of sleeping in without an alarm clock. And, no to developing an editorial calendar for this food blog. I’m doing nothing with my extra time, and it feels good to be too selfish.
It wasn’t until Cabot Creamery delivered a box of cheddar, that I decided to toss cheddar back into my salads. The only reason why I stopped, was because feta, parmesan or goat cheese also became a few of my favorite salad additions. As a kid, Dad used to effortlessly toss large garden salads of tomato wedges, crisp iceberg lettuce, chunky carrot slices and thick, sliced cucumbers with cheddar chunks thrown into the bowl. Other people made similar salads with cubes of meat. Dad also introduced to us to salads made with greens grown from our backyard garden. When most people were eating sweet iceberg, we were munching on delicate, bitter greens: the type of pre-washed greens most people currently buy. Today’s salads are nuanced plates with artfully arranged vegetables.