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![]() March 11, 2003
Real men don't make salad
I myself can't imagine inviting someone over to dinner and proudly saying: "Here's your MEAT."
Men, in my experience, are often superb at cooking MEAT. And they may even be able to accompany the MEAT with potatoes, rice, broccoli and other univegetable options. Heck, I've even met some real men who could whip up truly amazing gourmet dishes with MEAT. But, never, ever, have I seen a real man make a real salad.
Or maybe it's just another example of why we need each other. Balance.
Comments:
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MEN are hunters, women are gatherers. MEAT is hunted, lettuce is gathered. We tend to shop the same way too. This is not my theory, I have merely read such and freely admit to being more of a gatherer than a hunter.
on March 12, 2003 11:12 AM
I've seen plenty of "real men" make salad! But, I think mine are better. My dad makes a pretty kickass salad though, that's from whom I get my tendency to put weird things (dried fruit, hazelnuts, etc) in them.
What prompted this post? Did daniel fail to make salad? Or were you invited to someone's house and given manly meat?
on March 12, 2003 11:39 AM
Whoa baby!
I meant no offense to all those kickass salad-making mens out there, or the women who love them.
The MEAT fixation just seems to be a general trend with a lot of guys I've known.
on March 12, 2003 10:58 PM
One of my mosdt favorite things in the world is a romaine lettuce. When ever I use Romaine in one of my salad creations I take especial pleasure in carefully peeling , quartering and eating the crisp, translucent heart of the stem. I have repeatedly offered this succulent delicacy to friends and kin only to have them turn up their nose.
My favorite salad, at the moment, is a base of crisp romaine, with delicate slices of sweet pear, bosc is the best in my opinion. Then sugared walnuts, gorgonzola cheese and topped with a raspeberry vinegrette.
Another favorite of mine is what I grew up calling "ant salad". It is a varietion of classic israeli salad. You chop the ripe tomatoes, nubby pickle cukes, white onion and sometimes carrot extremely fine. then top with fresh olive oil and lemon, salt and peppar and feta if you like.
What I love most about a crisp refreshing salad, is that nothing is cooked- each vegetable is distinct and unique, unaltered by the compromising heat of a skillet or oven.
I feel I can safely say I am a connesuer of interesting salads. My masculinity is not really up for question, (well, I did kiss a boy once, but it was partly by accident and a long time ago)
on March 12, 2003 11:32 PM
I've tasted Josh's salads, and its true. They're very good. But then... I didn't know that he had kissed a boy before. That changes things a little. How can you kiss someone by accident?
on March 25, 2003 06:12 AM
Hmmm...Maybe he was examining a zit on his nose REALLY closely and then their lips accidentally touched, a few times?
Knowing Josh though, they were probably all in bed with a woman and it was dark and...
on March 26, 2003 12:41 PM
I was 16- maybe 17- I was at a theater festival in old Acre- I had a friend named Ziv who had a crush on me- I wasn't totally comfortable with his crush- but I liked him as a person and wasn't uncomfortable enough to try and stop being friends- anyways- I drank a bottle of cheap brandy and woke up with his tongue down my throat....I'd call that accidental, no?
on April 1, 2003 12:19 PM
I'd call that sexual assault. But then I don't want to start any rumors about Ziv.
on April 3, 2003 01:30 PM
Yeah, molesting a passed out 16 year old is pretty piss-poor behaviour.
I remember going to a college dorm party with a punk friend when I was a very naive 15 year old, drinking too much-ending up in a dorm room with a couple of guys, being so scared and confused about how I should react to my 'date's increasingly sexual advances that I just pretended to pass out. So I just lay there listening to them discuss the situation-from 'oh shit she's passed out' to what they should do with me, to what they could do to me, proceeding to nervousness about whether I'd drunk a dangerous amount of alcohol and how young I really was... Luckily the nervousness won out before he'd done more than feel me up. It ended up pretty messy, the cops were called and my friend got in big trouble for taking me to the party-boy was she pissed at me! Her mom made us both go to counseling.
But, hey, I got to hear a frank assessment of my breasts:
boy 1: "What're her tits like?"
boy 2: "kinda small, but nice big nipples..."
That has lingered in my head for the last ...18 years. Shee-it, I can't believe it's been 18 years since I was 15-babies have grown into adults since then!
on April 3, 2003 02:52 PM