Gag me with a house salad.

If I had a nickel for every time I got invited to some cookie-cutter, meat-infested, casual dining craphole (if it's not a word, it is today) and told "you can have a house salad," I would use all of those nickels to buy a Bob Marley autographed guitar to bash the next person to offer me a house salad over the head.

I don't have a problem with house salads, per se, but I do have a problem with the fact that someone would invite me to eat with them while caring so little about my taste buds that they think a bowl of half-wilted iceberg lettuce, a cucumber slice, and three cherry tomatoes was going to be an enjoyable dinner.

I won't stand for it anymore, and you shouldn't either!  It is our duty as vegetarians to inform our friends, family and colleagues that we do have sophisticated palates, too.  Most vegetarians do not graze in a field.  We like variety as much as any carnivore and don't eat salads all day.  If I do have a salad for dinner, it is going to be a dinner salad, and it better have some nice, fancy stuff all over it, like craisins, apples, walnuts, artichokes or something else yummy.  If it's not on a dinner-sized plate, it's not a dinner.

Ok.  I'm done ranting.  Wow!  I could really go for a salad right now. How ironic? :-/

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