I’m always disappointed with salad
dressing. It’s either too thin or too thick. Some are too vinegary, some are
too oily. I must have 25 opened bottles in the fridge. And another 20 unopened
in the cupboard. In restaurants, I always ask for the dressing on the side, and
I request two or three different kinds. Maybe if I combine the lite honey
mustard with the raspberry vinaigrette? How about half French and half Thousand
Island? Yuck. Nothing works.
My sister, Linda, who lives in New
York, is an awesome cook and whenever we visit and she prepares a meal, the
salad is tossed with the most delicious dressing imaginable. Okay, maybe it’s
my imagination, but for 35 years she has avoided telling me how she makes it. I’ll say during dinner, “Linda, you really
have to give me the recipe…”
“Sure, remind me before you leave,”
Linda says.
Then, as we are leaving, she often
conveniently brings up things like pressing health issues in the family, stuff
I really don’t want to talk about. The
whole thing is very suspicious. Maybe the
recipe is a family secret. Wait a
second: it’s my family, too.
Recently my wife asked me for the 1,000th
time: “Aren’t you going to eat your salad?” That was it. I called my sister and told her I wanted to
know what was in her special creation and I wanted to know NOW.
“Look, Dick. The reason I never gave
you the recipe is that I really have no idea what the exact proportion of
ingredients is.”
“How could that be, Linda? It has tasted exactly the same every year since 1976 when I first tasted it at your wedding reception.”
“How could that be, Linda? It has tasted exactly the same every year since 1976 when I first tasted it at your wedding reception.”
“I know. It really keeps. I probably made way too much.”
“Seriously, Linda, nothing lasts 35
years.”
“It actually lasted 25.”
“I’m not talking about your marriage.
I’m talking about the salad dressing.”
I pressed her again for details. Finally,
after further cajoling, I received this email:
LINDA’S SALAD DRESSING
2 T sugar (NOT artificial sweetener)
2 T ketchup (NOT chili sauce)
1 T Durkee Famous Sauce (Do NOT substitute)
3 T apple cider vinegar (NOT red wine
vinegar)
1/2 cup of vegetable or canola oil (NOT
olive oil)
Put in blender (Do NOT whisk)
Well, first of all, this was the most
hostile recipe I had ever seen, and I think an entire cookbook like this would
be very intimidating for people who wanted to just have some creative fun in
the kitchen. I prepared the dressing exactly as Linda instructed, and I even called
her to be sure I had the blender on the right speed. All Linda said was, “NOT
puree.” By the way, growing up, she had a very positive attitude.
I am very proud of my finished product.
I have drizzled it on my salad every night for the past week. I decided to ask
Linda for the recipe for her fabulous Chicken Marsala. She told me she really
didn’t have the specifics for that one, either, but she said that when Mary
Ellen and I come to New York in June, she’ll serve it to us. I said “No thanks.”
I seem to remember that’s also what we had at her wedding.