Isolation Report, Week #51

[You could also read the most recent report, or even start at the beginning.]

Well, our family is heading into the March birthday season, that annual time when we have two birthday weekends of our own, not to mention one of the two birthday recipients’ best friends, who also has a birthday in there.  In happier times, we’ve sometimes combined hers with one of ours and had joint celebrations.  This year, of course, it will be a pandemic birthday.

And, what makes me sad, and angry, and frustrated, is that, being that we live in America and are talking about March birthdays, this will be the first crop of kids now experiencing their second pandemic birthday in a row.  That sucks for them.  It would suck for anyone, but in this case I’m talking about kids celebrating birthdays ranging from their 7th (our youngest child, last year) to their 15th (our middle child and their friend, this year).  I mean, I can’t imagine how hard it would suck to have your 16th birthday, or your 18th, or your 21st, in all this shit, and I know there are people going through that too—I don’t happen to know any, but just stastically there have to be.  But at those ages (yes, I would argue even at 16) you’re starting to develop some maturity.  You’re starting to understand that, while the world is often awash with possibilities, sometimes it just sucks, and you have to learn to start accepting that.  But 7 – 15 ... man, those are your peak years of innocence, I feel.  Those are the times when, unless you’ve had some hard luck or some hard circumstances, you shouldn’t really have to be aware that life sucks sometimes.  You shouldn’t even have to think about it sucking for other people, much less yourself.

But, this is the world we live in, so we make the best of it.  We do Zoom birthday parties, and hold online gaming events, and, if we’re lucky enough to have social bubbles, maybe do very small parties within those.  And we make sure we let our kids know that they are still loved, even if the world is kinda shitting on them right now.  And we keep telling them that this won’t be forever.

Hopefully, we’re not lying.

Tumbledown Flatland I

"I Have Water, I Have Rum"

[This is one post in a series about my music mixes.  The series list has links to all posts in the series and also definitions of many of the terms I use.  You may wish to read the introduction for more background.

Like all my series, it is not necessarily contiguous—that is, I don’t guarantee that the next post in the series will be next week.  Just that I will eventually finish it, someday.  Unless I get hit by a bus.]

In response to a query from Elwood about what kind of music the bar usually has, a charater from The Blues Brothers famously replies “Oh, we got both kinds: we got country and western!” This is meant to be a joke.  The joke is supposed to be that “country and western” is really only one kind of music.  But, perhaps oddly, the real punch line, coming some 15 minutes later or so, is that the Blues Brothers band ends up just playing the theme from Rawhide over and over: a tune which is decidedly western ... but definitely not country.

Because, you see, country music and western music are actually entirely different.  Country music is from the eastern United States: it is mountain music from the Appalachians.  Westeran music is exactly what it says: music derived from the westward expansion.  Country is the music of coal miners (and their daughters); western is the music of cowboys.  But the most important difference between the two is that I hate country music: it’s one of only two kinds of music that I really can’t handle.¹  Western, on the other hand ...

When I was a kid, I had a few albums of my own; they were mostly Disney albums, such as Winnie the Pooh or The Aristocats or The Haunted Mansion.  But, for some weird reason, I also had a hand-me-down copy of this Lorne Green album, which included songs like “Bonanza” and “Ghost Riders in the Sky.” Western music, to me, has always been about cowboys camping on the endless prairie, singing songs with a vaguely lonesome air, as the tumbleweeds go rolling by ...

The genesis of this mix was Chris Isaak’s soft western ballad “Blue Spanish Sky.” I first mentioned Isaak way back on Smokelit Flashback I—the very first entry in this series—and I referred to him as “as close to country as I get.” Truly, Isaak is alt-country at best, and this tune is a brilliant example of a modern take on the western genre.²  The guitar shows that influence of Mexican music which you don’t hear in country, and the verses are truly lonesome rather than lonely, which is the best description I can give for the proper difference between western and country, underscored even more so by the trumpet, which is not upbeat and brassy like you might hear on Salsatic Vibrato, but more sad and, well ... lonesome.³  Really, my only problem with this song is the bridge (it doens’t really have a chorus, just a single bridge before the trumpet breakdown), which I always felt changed the tenor of the song too much.  But, eventually, I came to accept it:⁴ it’s even more referent of the cowboys of the American West, with a touch of the yodeling cowpoke.  And the lyrics, of course, are pitch-perfect:

It’s a slow sad spanish song;
I knew the words but I sang them wrong.
The one I love has left and gone
Without me ...

Surely there must be other songs out there that I liked in the present, I thought, that would remind me of pleasant times in the past listening to Lorne Green?

At the time, I was deep into True Blood, and its theme song, “Bad Things,” was too slinky and echoey for me to consider it properly country (though Jace Everett is certainly a country singer).  But when Everett isn’t supplying a country twang almost too much for me to bear, he drops into a sultry bass that gives you the shivers.  The electric guitar counterpointed with the steel guitar, combined with the Hammond organ, also gives it a decidedly uncountry feel.  I also thought of Firefly’s opening theme, which is almost country, but with just enough blues and western to rescue it.  Then I thought of the extremely oddball song “Dakota,” from Wire Train’s third album, the one which was such a departure from their early, almost-British-sounding jangle-pop.  And no song moreso than this one, which is lonely and haunted, starting out soft and then bursting forth, but still somehow downbeat.  And then I think I remembered “Underneath the Bunker,” by the absolute masters of jangle-pop, R.E.M.  It’s s bit more upbeat, but still has some of that Latin influence,⁵ and the weird, processed vocals which provide our volume title.  And then ... then I was sort of stuck for a long while.

This mix may have had the longest “stewing” time, from initial idea to being declared sufficiently done.  I’ve added songs here and there, as I found them: “Ghost of a Texas Ladies’ Man” by Concrete Blonde (a bit silly, but fun), or “the sadness of the witch” by Falling You (the rainstick really sells the western angle), or “Parking Lot” by emmet swimming (purely on the strength of the steel-guitar-adjacent stringwork by my friend Erik⁶), or “Ghost song” by hands upon black earth⁷ (more rainstick and other Native American percussion and chanting).  When I finally decided to pick up the ultra-classic Rumours by Fleetwood Mac, I discovered (or perhaps rediscovered) “Gold Dust Woman,” which seems to fit perfectly here.  When I discovered Myles Cochran,⁸ I was quite enamored of “Wait a While,” and I think it spent a bit of time as the potential mix opener.  But then I found “Big Sky” by the Reverend Horton Heat, normally known more for psychobilly, but actually spanning a pretty electic range of styles.⁹  Something about the guitar work in this instrumental really screams western at me, even though it’s almost certainly the fastest song on the volume.

Other not-too-surprising candidates include Meat Puppets, Iron & Wine, House of Freaks, and Mazzy Star.  In the case of the Seattle ostensibly-grunge band, “Roof with a Hole” is one of my favorites of theirs, and the lyrics (e.g. “the roof’s got a hole in it, and everything’s been ruined by the rain”) sell the lonesome vibe.  With the folk-adjacent Sam Beam vehicle, I think it’s the banjo that qualifies it.  The Richmond duo’s amazing album Monkey on a Chain Gang contains several tracks which could work here; after some thought, I went with “Long Black Train,” where Johnny Hott’s fantastic toms give the song a rolling beat that perfectly embodies its title.  Finally, there are many great choices from the Santa-Monica-based shoegazers, but their biggest hit “Fade into You” gives us some great steel guitar, tambourine, and a particularly lonesome vibe.

Tumbledown Flatland I
[ I Have Water, I Have Rum ]

“Big Sky” by Reverend Horton Heat, off Liquor in the Front
“Wait a while” by Myles Cochran, off Marginal Street
“Bad Things” by Jace Everett [Single]
“Gold Dust Woman” by Fleetwood Mac, off Rumours
“Good Times Gone” by Nickelback, off Silver Side Up
“Firefly: Main Title” by Sonny Rhodes [Single]
“Blue Spanish Sky” by Chris Isaak, off Heart Shaped World
“the sadness of the witch” by Falling You, off Touch
“Ghost song” by hands upon black earth, off hands upon black earth
“Passage Three” by Steve Roach, Michael Stearns & Ron Sunsinger, off Kiva
“Dakota” by Wire Train, off Wire Train ¹⁰
“Roof with a Hole” by Meat Puppets, off Too High to Die
“Long Black Train” by House of Freaks, off Monkey on a Chain Gang
“Parking Lot” by emmet swimming, off Arlington to Boston
“Ghost of a Texas Ladies' Man” by Concrete Blonde, off Walking in London
“Underneath the Bunker” by R.E.M., off Lifes Rich Pageant
“Teeth in the Grass” by Iron & Wine, off Our Endless Numbered Days
“Fade into You” by Mazzy Star, off So Tonight That I Might See
“Taqsim” by Stellamara, off Star of the Sea
“Feels Like the End of the World” by Firewater, off The Golden Hour
“Malagueña salerosa (La malagueña)” by Chingón, off Mexican Spaghetti Western

Total:  21 tracks,  78:18

How about the less likely choices?  Well, Nickelback shouldn’t be entirely unexpected: their alt-metal, “post-grunge,”¹¹ style is western-adjacent, and they hail from Alberta, which is Canada’s prairie country (directly north of Montana, in fact).  “Good Times Gone” contains a lot of bendy, echoey guitar work that fits in very nicely here, and Chad Kroeger’s vocals contain just enough twang to sell it without crossing into country territory.  Plus it just rocks.

Kiva, the album by 3 big names in ambient music (Steve Roach, Michael Stearns, and actual Native American Ron Sunsinger), consists of very long Native-American-inspired ambient pieces, separated by shorter bridges named “Passage One” through “Passage Four” (and concluding with “The Center”).  “Passage Three” is a piece that I really felt captured some of the feel of the wind on the wide, flat lands of the American West, and I thought it made a good transition into the whistling, wind-like opening strains of “Dakota.”

And then we have the closing stretch.  After “Fade into You” fades out, I thought that “Taqsim” from the normally Balkan-leaning Stellamara,¹², with its lonely stringed instrument (I believe it’s an oud), made a perfect bridge into Firewater’s “Feels Like the End of the World.” Firewater’s insanely good The Golden Hour was the result of Tod A. spending three years abroad, absorbing the musical styles of Turkey, India, Pakistan, and Indonesia.  The jangly guitars here and the overall melancholy air of the lyrics really cemented its place on this mix, despite being probably the furthest away from properly “western” music on this volume.

And that leads squarely into our closer, “Malagueña salerosa” by Robert Rodruiguez’s Chingón.  This song is one of the most well known mariachi ballads, and it demands that the lead singer (in this case, Alex Ruiz) hold a note for what seems like forever—literally, I can’t even hum the note for as long as Alex continuously sings it.  The lyrics, if translated, are suitably sad for a lonesome western: the singer speaks to a witty, charming woman from Málaga, Spain, noting her beautiful eyes and calling her stunning and bewitching, but then says “If you look down on me for being poor, I concede that you are right” and, in the final verse, pleads “I don’t offer you riches: I offer you my heart ... I offer you my heart in exchange for what I lack.” From Chingón’s excellent album Mexican Spaghetti Western (which, goshdarnit, has the theme right there on the tin), this song always epitomized to me the Latin influence on the western genre, and what depth of emotion it could bring to the music.

Next time, let’s go back to the 80s.  I kinda like it there.

__________

1 The other, as I’ve mentioned before, is opera.

2 As is “Kings of the Highway,” actually, which is the track of his that I used on Smokelit Flashback.

3 More like the sax breaks you might hear on Moonside by Riverlight.

4 Though not to love it, unfortunately.

5 I’m guessing habanera, specifically, though I am no expert on the Latin American musical styles.

6 You may recall that Erik of emmet swimming was the first employee of my software company.

7 Another Magnatune find; I first mentioned them back on Smokelit Flashback IV.

8 First mentioned back on Rose-Coloured Brainpan I.

9 To prove it, note that the good Reverend has appeared thus far on Moonside by Riverlight, Porchwell Firetime, Cantosphere Eversion, and even Yuletidal Pools.

10 Normally I prefer to link to a page where you can give someone money for the music.  However, this album doesn’t appear to be available anywhere in that way, at least in digital form.  If you’re into CDs, you can get it from Amazon, but I suspect I’m in a distinct minority on that score these days.

11 Still find that label meaningless, but it’s common.

12 First encountered on Shadowfall Equinox I but since seen on volumes III and IV of that mix, as well as on Apparently World.

Isolation Report, Week #49

[You could also read the most recent report, or even start at the beginning.]

Well, it’s a been a few weeks since I checked in on the political front, and that means it’s been long enough that the Senate performed exactly as expected and acquitted Trump of inciting the riot that stormed the Capitol and resulted in several deaths.  The majority of the Republicans, of course, had made up their minds beforehand.  If this were an actual trial, such potential jurors would have been dismissed as prejudiced ... in fact, the roots of the word “prejudiced”—meaning to “pre-judge”—are specifically referring to this type of behavior.  There were apparently only seven Republicans who were brave enough to vote to convict someone of doing something they very obviously did (on video, even!), and two of them aren’t running for re-election.  Think about what that means: for 86% of Republicans (or at least 86% of Repulican senators) care more about getting re-elected than about being honest.  Even if you’re a Republican, that should concern you.  Even if you believe Trump that the election was stolen, you can see that he did the thing he’s being accused of, right?  Hell, even if you agree that storming the Capitol was the right thing to do, and even if you believe that the Deep State government has no right at all to hold him accountable for his actions, you still understand that he incited the riot ... right?  Hell, if you were at the riot, you believe that: the Senators were shown footage of rioters chanting “We were invited by the president of the United States!” So he did it.  There isn’t much debate about that.  Senators voting to acquit are lying.  Maybe we could dream up some motives for that lie other than wanting re-election, but sometimes (as William of Occam was wont to say) the simplest explanation is the right one.

To be fair, many Republicans are concerned about this.  So much so that many prominent Republicans met to discuss the possibility of forming a new party.  They eventually rejected that idea, though, because a third party would not be successful.  Which right there ought to tell you that we have a serious problem with our system.  “We have to stay with the crazy people because the system is designed to help them remain in power” is never the position you want to be in.  And, honestly, my problem with this whole plan is partially the Democrats.  Sure, I’m absolutely a progressive and more or less a liberal, but I am not a Democrat.  I don’t want the Democrats to have too much political power and control everything from here on out any more than the more conservative among you do.  Furthermore, the Democrats are half the reason that a third party is not viable.  For all that they tear at each other’s throats, when it comes to shutting out third parties, the Democrats and the Republicans are in lockstep.  And, ironically, they will now pay the price for that decision, because having the Republicans split in two would only help the Democrats.

Ah, but enough about politics.  How’s our pandemic going?  Well, not so great, honestly.  The Mother had to go to the emergency room for severe pain about 3 weeks ago; they completely ignored her advising them that it was probably her gallbladder and said maybe she had some strained muscles in her back, shot her full of a souped up version of ibuprofen and sent her home.  She got an appointment with her doctor, who told her it was probably her gallbladder but she needed an MRI to confirm.  She got the MRI, the results said it was her gallbladder, and shd had a followup appointment with her doctor next week.  But, before that could come around, she was back in the emergency room with even more extreme pain, and this time they had the brains to work out that, hey: maybe it’s her gallbladder.  So, this past Monday, after spending the weekend in the hospital, she had an emergency gallbladder removal.  She’s fine now, and home, and recovering, albeit somewhat slowly.

Now, you may remember we have this little thing called a pandemic going on right now—it’s sort of the basis for this blog post series, in fact.  What’s it like, having to go to the hospital in the middle of the pandemic, even if for a non-pandemic-related cause?  Well, the first thing is, I can’t tell you firsthand: the farthest I ever got into the hospital was the front desk, when I went to drop off some knitting and a cell phone charging plug.  In fact, even taking her to the emergency room meant driving her, dropping her off at the door, then waiting in the parking lot until they let her in.  Yep, that’s right: when you walk up to the emergency room (at least ours), a security guard comes out, asks you what you’re in for, then makes you wait outside while they figure out what to do with you.  Once they did let her in, all I could really do was go home and wait for news.  I didn’t see her again until they wheeled her out to go home.  (And of course that was days and days later, because I dropped her off on a Friday night, and when you need “emergency” surgery on a weekend, that means you wait until Monday.  But that’s probably a whole separate rant.)

But my secondhand report is, the hospital staff is haggard.  They’ve had to see a lot of death lately, and they’re probably being pushed to their limits ... if not beyond.  I could almost forgive the original idiot doctor who misdiagnosed her with “back pain,” except for the extra $400 it’s going to cost me (that’s what it’ll cost me, mind you: it’s going to cost the insurance company much more).  But we’re lucky enough to have a hospital very close to us, and second time was the charm and she got a good doctor, and excellent nursees, and overall we’re pretty happy.  And, even though she’s still in a lot of pain from the surgery itself, the lack of a gallbladder full of gallstones (which the surgeon described as “highly inflamed”) means that she feels a lot better than she did when she went in.  So we can’t complain.  Too much.

Hopefully we’ve exhausted our drama quotient for the year (both personally and politically), and the rest of 2021 will be completely boring.  At this point, I’m looking forward to that.

Saladosity, Part 17: Chef's

[This is the seventeenth post in a long series.  You may wish to start at the beginning.  Like all my series, it is not necessarily contiguous—that is, I don’t guarantee that the next post in the series will be next week.  Just that I will eventually finish it, someday.  Unless I get hit by a bus.]

(If you need a refresher about my salad-making lingo, go back and review our first salad.)

A good chef’s salad is a thing of beauty.  It is both meat and veggies in a wonderfully balanced presentation, and also it’s delicious.  Now, most people will agree that a chef’s salad must have meat and cheese in addition to the eggs, but there’s a multitude of different opinions on which meat and cheese to use.  This is the recipe that I learned at my first non-fast-food-restaurant job, a college dive bar called the Mason Jar Pub (near my alma mater of George Mason University).  It wasn’t a very good restaurant overall, but the chef’s salad was pretty decent, and that’s where I learned to make it.  I still love eating it today.

The Protein

In my opinion, the absolute best meats to use are turkey and roast beef.  One of the tricks is to find lunch meat that is sliced perfectly: too thick and it’ll be hard to assemble, too thin and it’ll just rip into shreds.  Also, turkey that is sliced into a perfect, large circle is ideal; you can be a little more flexible on the shape of the roast beef.  Now, you can also cut it yourself, but for one thing it’s a pain in the ass, and for another it’s hard to get the slices just right.  Unless you have an industrial meat slicer.  But then you’re likely to cut your fingers off, so that’s not a great solution either.  Just buy good quality meats with no nitrites and you’ll be fine.

The Cheese

Now, you could use any cheese you like.  But I’m going to suggest two criteria to narrow it down:

• You need a cheese with good plasticity.  For this reason, I find that cheddar or Swiss are terrible choices.  When you try to put everything together, those types of cheese just crumble into a big mess

• I personally think that white cheeses just complement lunch meats better.  Sure, a decent Colby could work, but is it going to taste as good as some of your other options?

So the obvious choice is provolone, and it should definitely be your go-to if you have difficulty finding decent choices at your market, or you’re just not adventurous when it comes to cheese.  If you can find sliced mozzarella, that could also work, but I find it a bit bland for this particular application.  Monterey Jack is not bad, and if you wanted to be super fancy, Edam or Jarlsberg would be the way to go (I think Gouda is both not quite plastic enough and just a bit too strong).  But my absolute favorite is havarti.  It’s got a great flavor that is mild but not bland, you can often find it pre-sliced,¹ and it has the perfect amount of flexibility.  If you’ve not yet tried it, definitely give it a go.

The Eggs

The other protein you’ll need is hard-boiled eggs, of course.  There’s not much art to boiling an egg, but still some folks have difficulty getting them to that perfect consistency without the annoying green rings forming on them.²  So here’s how I do it.

Possibly you have an electric kettle for boiling water for tea.  They’re awesome: you fill it with water, push the button, and voilà: it boils, then turns itself off.  They don’t last forever though: after a bit, you’ll find yours starts to look a bit ragged ... maybe it has a few waterspots here and there ... maybe the lid doesn’t fit perfectly any more.  So you just buy a new one, right?  They’re not that expensive, after all.  So what do you do with the old one?  Just throw it away, I guess?

No.  You use it to hard-boil eggs in.

Two eggs is typically enough for a chef’s salad, but I often do 5 or 6 at a time and just keep them in the fridge.³  You lower the eggs gently into the empty kettle, hopefully not cracking any,⁴ just barely cover them with cold water, plug it in and hit that button.  Now walk away.  The water will come to a boil, the kettle turns itself off, then the eggs just sit there as the water slowly cools.  Bam! perfect hard-boiled eggs every time.  Come back once the water is cool, or whenever you like.  Hours later, even—that’s the beauty of this method.  No timers, you can’t possibly overcook them, it just ... works.

Dump the water out and either use the eggs right away or stick ’em in the fridge for later.  For chef’s salad purposes, peel a couple of eggs and crack out that handy dandy egg slicer I told you to buy when we talked about salad equipment.  Open, close, and you have perfect slices; just throw the top and bottom slices out, because they’re all white and no yolk.  Unless, you know, you’re into that sort of thing.  I usually just feed them to the dog.  Or my daughter.

The Dressing

Now, you can put any old sort of dressing on a chef’s salad that you like, but I’m a firm believer that this is the perfect place to break out a lovely Thousand Island dressing.  The problem is, most store-bought TI’s are going to be full of stuff that you may not be too thrilled with, like soybean oil, and preservatives, and unnecessary sugar.  But, you know what?  Thousand Island dressing is one of the simplest things in the world: it’s nothing but mayo, ketchup, and pickle relish.⁵  You could make that yourself.

So let’s do that.

Thousand Island Dressing

Now, first thing I have to warn you is, it’s practically impossible to make a good Thousand Island dressing without any added sugar, because it’s almost impossible to make ketchup without any added sugar.  So this will not be Whole30 compliant, unless you’re dedicated enough to go out and buy Primal ketchup.  But you certainly don’t need any sugar beyond what’s in the ketchup itself, so just get a good quality ketchup and don’t stress too much.  It won’t have very much sugar.

The second thing I’m going to warn you about is, this isn’t a particularly sweet TI.  It’s going to be a bit on the tangy side.  Personally, I consider that a feature, but your mileage may vary.

After a lot of fiddling, I’ve managed to come up with the following, easy-to-remember formula:

• 1 squirt of dijon mustard
• 2 heavy pinches of salt
• 3 big spoonfuls of mayo
• 4 generous squirts of ketchup
• 5 small spoonfuls of pickle relish, or 5 whole pickle slices
• 6 grinds of black pepper

For the mayo, just use the homemade mayo I taught you how to make when we did the autumnal salad.  For the pickles or relish, my preference is to use dill pickles, from which I make my own relish.  You can use sweet relish, or sweet (sometimes called “bread and butter”) pickles, but that’s more sugar, and it’s not necessary.⁶  You could also buy dill pickle relish, but I’ve never found that anywhere other than Whole Foods, and who can afford that?  So just make your own.

If you’re using whole pickles—and let me stress that I’m not talking about a whole pickle spear, but just a slice such as you might find on a hamburger—then you need a food processor, or perhaps a stick blender.  Personally, I just take a whole jar of pickles and dump it into the blender (don’t forget to add half the juice as well!) and make dill pickle relish in bulk.⁷  If you’re using relish, you can literally just put everything in a bowl and stir it with the spoon you used for the mayo.  (If you’re not sure what I mean by “big spoonful” of mayo, I’m talking about a tablespoon—the kind you eat out of, not necessarily the measuring kind.  But they’re probably pretty close to each other.)

You can also add some white vinegar, if you want it even more tangy, but I find that the relish will bring along enough vinegar on its own.  You can also add a small amount of garlic powder, if you want it to have a bit more sharpness.  Or substitute yellow mustard for the dijon if you find it a bit too sharp.  But basically it’s just the ketchup, the mayo, and the pickle relish, and everything thing else is just for flavor.⁸

If you have more than you need for your salad(s), put the rest in a jar and stick it in the fridge.  Use it on your burgers, if you like.

Chef’s salad

Once again, you’re ready, and it’s just assembly.

On your cutting board, put down a slice of turkey.  Put a slice of roast beef on top, or maybe two slices if they’re small, but don’t overlap them too much.  Now lay a slice of cheese over that.  Don’t center the roast beef and the cheese on the turkey; rather, make it closer to the edge that’s closest to you.  Now roll up the turkey, away from you.  The turkey is almost certainly the roundest, and probably the least likely to fall apart, so it’s the best choice for the outside layer.  The rolling up will naturally push the inner layers toward the other edge, but, because you placed them off-center, they won’t move enough to push out past the turkey.  The stiffness of the cheese will help keep it together too, unless you ignored me and used cheddar or Swiss, in which case it’ll just break into bits and make a big mess.  If you do the whole thing right, you get a meat-and-cheese roll-up which will naturally hold itself together.  Cut off the messy bits at either end of the roll-up, because they’re not uniform; either just eat them, or feed them to your dog (or, again: to your daughter).  Take what’s left and cut it into quarters and turn each on its side: you end up with beautifully marbled discs of awesomeness.

Now do that a few more times if you’re making chef’s salad for the whole family (and why wouldn’t you be?).  My general rule of thumb is one roll-up per person and one extra.  Two for an individual salad might be too much, but then again you can just eat the extra discs later.⁹

Put your base veggies in a shallow bowl.  Wikipedia will tell you that you need cucumbers and tomatoes at a minimum, but honestly I don’t care for tomatoes in my chef’s salad.  (Cucumbers, on the other hand, are always a good call.)  But, really, whatever veggies you’ve already got chopped up is fine.  Now put your little meat discs on top of the veggies; I like to put one at each compass point and one in the center, but arrange however seems best to you.  Put one slice of egg on each disc.  Now put a normal amount of the homemade Thousand Island dressing ... maybe even a light amount.  Lean toward the lighter side.  Personally, while I like to eat my salad veggies with a spoon (I despise chasing small veggie bits around my plate with the fork), you really need to eat the egg-topped discs with a fork in a single bite each ... this may be the only salad where a spork is appropriate.  I usually just end up using a fork and a spoon, but you do you.  Delicious, nutritious, and very filling.

Next time, we’ll stretch our definition of what “salad” actually means.

__________

1 For instance, I buy that way from—where else?—Trader Joe’s.

2 Don’t forget: the green rings are unsightly, but they won’t hurt you.  Kind of like when your avocadoes turn brown: you can still eat them safely, they’re just not as pretty.

3 Useful for healthy snacks, and also for other salads.  Natch.

4 If you do crack one, you’ll just get wisps of egg white in your water.  Which isn’t the end of the world, but it does make a big mess in your electric kettle, which is why you only use old ones for this.

5 Interestingly enough, this is also the exact recipe for the “special sauce” that many burger joints use.  Yes, that’s right: your Big Mac basically just has Thousand Island dressing on it.

6 Or, in my opinion, good.

7 If you’ve got an extra pickle jar laying around, you could also do half the jar and save the other half for eating, if you’re into that sort of thing.  I’m not, but my daughter would be irked at me if I didn’t leave her any pickles for snacking on.

8 Okay, the mustard can also help with keeping it from separating in the fridge.  But mostly for flavor.

9 Honestly, sometimes I just make these meat-and-cheese cylinders without the salad and just eat them without even bothering to cut them into discs.