Eating a Salad Left Me Feeling Guilty

This afternoon, following several months of a personal boycott which I'm sure she felt deeply, I decided to get past my frustration with Oprah for how she abused her power on the day that she decided to devote an hour to kicking James Frey's butt live on her show. I was filled with mild trepidation as I reached for the remote, knowing that in all likelihood, something on the show would tap into my emotional reservoir and make me remember why it is that we all love Oprah…even those of us who swear from time to time to hate her.

In any case, in order to avoid having to look her in her demon eyes, where I might get lost and become, once again a devoted fan, wishing that she could become a goddess, or at the very least be on the cover of EVERY magazine, rather than just her own, (despite the fact that it appears she packed on a few pounds during the off season), I decided to turn up the volume and to go into the kitchen to make a salad.

Now, I must warn you. I don't take the process of making a salad very lightly. There is an art to it. I pulled out the following implements:

A dinner plate
Salad spinner
Cheese grater
A Ginsu chef's knife*

(* Note: It's the only Ginsu I have ever liked, and the best knife I've ever owned. Usually only available at the county fair, but when you are there, spend the $20. It will be the best money you ever spend on a kitchen instrument)

And the following ingredients:

1 handful of mixed greens from Safeway. I prefer the spring mix medly.
½ of a cucumber
10 grape tomatoes (better flavor than cherry tomatoes)
half a handful of sliced mushrooms
1 broccoli crown the size of my fist
¼ cup fresh cilantro
1 green onion
3 slices of ham
1 cauliflower crown the size of my fist
Seasoned sunflower seeds (You can get them in the specialty salad section)
½ of a red bell pepper (costlier, but tastier than the green)
Kraft brand bacon ranch dressing.

Once pulling all of the necessary ingredients from my refrigerator, I began the process of unwrapping various items and removing others from the plastic sacks in which they had been placed at the grocery store. I took my handful of salad greens and washed them. By the way, if you think its okay to eat salad greens right out of the sack when they are pre-packaged, think again. Just because they sacked them doesn't mean that they're clean. Once clean, I spun them through the salad spinner and placed them on my plate, as the base for the yumminess to come. (It's a word NOW. Get over it!) Then I took a break to turn up the television. Today's topic? Families living on minimum wage. Oprah's special guest today was Morgan Spurlock. For those of you unfamiliar with who Morgan Spurlock is, he's the guy who lived on McDonald's food for a month straight to prove how bad it is for you. Today though, he was Oprah's guest for another project. He has done a new documentary wherein he and his girlfriend decided to spend a month living as minimum wage earners to see what it was like. Yeah… I know what you're thinking. I expected his girlfriend to be a hirsute tree hugger in need of a tweeze job and a pedicure myself. I was shocked to find out she is actually quite cute. Although to be fair, she did have that "I've always been a vegetarian, and even my seven cats are vegetarians" look in her eye. (Says the girl making a super deluxe salad)

Anyhow… satisfied that I had grasped the topic, I went back in the kitchen, and began to chop up my various vegetables. If you don't know how good cilantro smells freshly cut, you are missing out on one of life's great joys. As the sweet smell of cilantro danced through my nostrils, my ears were assaulted by the sound of my television informing me of the family of six living on $16,000 per year, and sharing a two bedroom home in the projects. I looked out the window of my five-bedroom suburban home, half a block from the river… the home that I always complain is too damn small for me, my spouse and my dog and noticed that my dog was sprawled out smack dab in the middle of my big back yard. (I have always wondered what makes them choose the spots they choose when nap time comes) I looked out further and wondered if the raspberries might be ready. I thought to myself that two bedrooms would just never cut it. (Never mind that less than five years ago, I was comfortable in a two-bedroom fourplex in which I lived for three years, and eight years ago, after my divorce, I was grateful for a friend's couch)

I went back to the task of chopping my vegetables and stacking them neatly onto my plate which in the end, would be quite a mound of food! After twenty minutes or so of salad preparation, I finally cleaned up what was left of the mess and stared down at the artistry of my beautiful salad, while on the television set, someone was rambling on and on about how a lack of money had lead to an improper diet, which lead to health problems that couldn't be taken care of, because if you can't afford good food, there is no way in hell you can afford health care.

I picked up the ranch dressing and pulled off the cap, but then decided that maybe Ranch was not the order of the day. So I replaced the cap, and opened the refrigerator to see what my other options might be. Blue cheese? Nah… too powerful for the moment, Red Wine Vinaigrette? Nah… reminded me too much of the waify little vegetarian cat lady on my TV screen. Italian? Nah… I'm mad at Italy. They won the world cup on penalties. Even though I have never watched soccer in my life, it was the principal of the thing. That left just the honey mustard, the creamy cucumber, the sun dried tomato, the dilly dressing, and some kind of sweet onion Vinaigrette. Unsatisfied, and lamenting not having more choices, I decided to go with my initial instinct, and shook out a healthy (er… I mean robust. It was anything BUT healthy) portion of bacon ranch dressing onto my salad. I put the dressing back in the refrigerator, closed the door, and looked around the kitchen. Something was missing. I just couldn't figure out what it was. SO I walked into the living room and sat down in front of the television to eat my salad and watch Oprah. As is normally the case, she showed me a barrage of families living hand to mouth waiting for the next minor disaster than might result in numbering the family in question among the nation's homeless people.

As I watched, I became keenly aware of what was missing from what would have been my perfect salad. I could see the pepper mill on the countertop. My salad needed pepper. However, on this day, I did not have pepper. I decided that what I was doing was paramount to gluttony and that I might be a bad person if I topped off my salad with freshly ground pepper. I thought about using some of the pre-ground stuff. I knew there was some in the cupboard. It's been there for awhile. Still though, I felt bad for all of the people on my television screen who couldn't afford pepper (Never mind that Oprah takes baths in warm milk, which is by the way, more expensive than gasoline) So I sucked it up and ate my salad without it's customary fresh ground pepper. "Poor bastards" I thought to myself, regarding the people on the screen, "I know just how you feel".