[Little Red Salad]
“C’est assez amer, vous savez?“, said the pretty salesgirl at the market.
Beautiful purplish-red leaves with a white spine. Oh, I knew they were going to be bitter and I wouldn’t like them so much and I would just end up pushing them to the side of my plate in favor of the baby spinach leaves I’d have tried to blend them with. But I had to buy it all the same, this little rosebud of a salad.
What can I say, I have a weakness for tiny vegetables — anything tiny really — and when they are heaped together on a produce stall like armfuls of flowers in wide wicker baskets, there’s no saying how long I can resist. (Actually there is: recent scientific measurements prove I can resist a full four and a half seconds before giving in.)
And now I’m thinking: if and when I get married, I may request that we be showered with miniature red salad leaves instead of the uber-classic rose petals. Hm. Would that be appropriate? or just plain weird?