I Do Not Like Caesar Salad

AnchoviesAh, Caesar. Roman general, military leader, dictator, salad-eater.*

As many of you may know, I am a bit of a picky eater.  As a child, my diet consisted of white rice, hot dogs, and “peanut butter jelly sandwiches without the jelly”.

This proved difficult when going out to dinner.  I would not eat hot dogs with “grass” on them (that would be a hot dog with parsley on the plate), or ANYTHING with cheese.

But on one particular day, when I was about 8 years old, the spirit moved me (aka the restaurant we were at didn’t have white rice or hot dogs).  Something in my heart told me that I probably shouldn’t go on eating this way; that it would only hurt me in the future.

Having no clue where to start (what is “lasagna”?), I looked to my family members.  But they were all getting something different, and having a fairly large family, this didn’t make the decision much easier.  As the waiter went round the table taking our orders, I noticed that everyone was getting one thing in common.

Caesar Salad.

The waiter came to me.

“And for you?,” he asked.

Re-positioning myself in my chair and clearing my throat I squeaked, “Caesar salad, please.”

I anxiously picked at the dry bread on the table until my salad arrived, piled high and awaiting consumption.

I dug my fork into the pile, picking up one meek piece of lettuce with some carrot shreds stuck to it.  Crunch.

To my surprise, I… I… I liked it!! This “Caesar salad” thing wasn’t so bad after all!

I ate the whole plate of salad, feeling happy and satisfied.  That is until…

“Did you like it?,” my older brother Zach asked, grinning slyly.

“Yeah!” I exclaimed, excited by the fact that my food options just widened.

“Do you know what’s in the dressing?” Zach questioned, but before I could even open my mouth, he giddily cried, “ANCHOVIES!”

My heart dropped faster than Disney’s Tower of Terror elevator.  After my parents begrudgingly confirmed it (but Em, you liked it!), I took my napkin and ran it over and over across my tongue, trying to get the taste out of my innocent mouth.

Needless to say, I do not like Caesar salad.


*Caesar salad is not actually named after Julius Caesar, but I know nothing about the guy the salad was named after.

(To read more about Emily, click here.)