How does the saying go:
The beauty of their women and the taste of their food has made the British the best sailors in the world.
I love the fact they conquered half the world, took their spices and don’t fucking use them.
That’s like the observation that many astronauts come from the US state of Ohio. Because they want to get as far away as possible.
(Michigander here, we love you Ohio, really we do!)
This has probably been posted and upvoted by people who put salad on the same plate as a roast dinner.
“I will have the spaghetti and a side salad. If the salad comes on top I send it back.”
Hmm. I’ve lived in two very different countries and always had salad on the side of… Everything.
It’s interesting to find that it’s not done there. In which situations do you eat salad?
this is tangential to the general thread of salad and weird food culture, so i’m just going to leave it as a reply to your comment.
I grew up in the south in the USA. I’m, therefore, southern. Ergo, I grew up with southern cuisine.
Fast forward to my mid thirties. I now live in France. I invited some of my non-southern and non-american friends over for a thanksgiving dinner one year. I served fruit salad, as one does, on the side of dinner. Apparently that’s weird. Nobody else eats fruit salad as a dinner side except southerners, apparently. Also, the non-americans were weirded out by eating cranberry sauce on the bird.
The famous ikea swedish meatballs come with lingonberry marmelade on the meat, so it’s not unheard of
Reminds me of that one bit, might have been on Top Gear, “7 of the 10 best restaurants in the world are in London!” “And what kind of food do they serve?” “French Cuisine.” *laughter ensues
If made incorrectly … also yes.
But look, it’s a matter of degree. You must have a truly cultured palate to discern the subtle variations of bland. Any pleb can taste the difference between a great dish and a shit one, but only a tongue honed by centuries of mediocrity can discern the subtle variations between mushy peas and ever-so-slightly-too-mushy peas. And don’t even get me started on perhaps-a-bit-less-mushy-than-yesterday-but-I-can’t-complain peas.
Honestly, I don’t understand all the hate.