The Salad I Didn't Know I Wanted

While New York City may be known for its lousy service, New York City delis are of another breed entirely. While exploring my new work neighborhood in search of the perfect salad, I found a deli that seems to pride itself on its multi-tasking.

Delis that offer a 'Build your own salad" bar have always intimidated me. First of all, you're not building your own. You're telling someone else to pick up your chosen vegetables and mix them together for you. There's always a line of people waiting behind you, ready to pounce on their crisp accoutrement of choice.

Before I've even handed over my plastic container of untainted spinach, they're already asking me what I want.

"Uh, chicken--"

"Yes?"

"Cherry toma--"

"Yes?"

"Uh...Uh... Chees---"

"Yes?"

"Green pepp--"

"Yes?"

"Uh--"

"Yes?"

"Wait, I--"

"Yes?"

Before you even have the choices out of your mouth, they're throwing it into the large silver bowl with tongs. And the choices are overwhelming. Before I knew it, I was debating between hot tamales and grape leaves. All of a sudden I've reached the vegetable finish line. There's no going back. The salad attendant has flung the bowl at the next attendant who's waiting with a curved blade.

The guy with the blade dumps your salad out begins hacking it into little pieces. I mean, just really going for it. Everything you've just ordered has been diced into vegetable confetti and placed back inside the plastic container you started with, then thrown at the next salad attendant. The next guy then puts your dressing of choice on and mixes it for the second time.

Finally. Salad confetti. I made eye contact with a guy in line in front of me who looked equally perplexed and overwhelmed by this process. All I could say to him was, "I'm freaking out."

Alas, my $10 dollar salad proved to be fresh and delicious. Who knew it took battling a panic attack to get a good salad in this town?