LaughAtlantis

On Easter, my sister-in-law Barbara introduced me to the wonder of The Wiggles. They are an Australian band that has their own kids' show which is apparently very popular in the Carletti household. Well, that Carletti household, anyway. In any case, The Wiggles sing a song about fruit salad with the catchy lyrics, "Fruit salad, yummy yummy." Don't go looking for the song on the web - you can find it, of course, but the song will imprint itself on your brain and the only way to get it out is by either singing another of their songs (like, for example, "Toot Toot Chugga Chugga Big Red Car") or by singing the theme to "The Facts of Life." Neither of these is a particularly appealing option.

Anyway, the whole fruit salad singing business was extended into dinner when it turned out that the first course was - you guessed it - fruit salad. While eating his fruit salad, my five-year-old nephew Zachary posed an interesting question. "Why do you call it salad," he asked,"when it's just fruit and no SALAD?" We tried to convince him that salad was just a mix of a whole bunch of different vegetables, and fruit salad was just a mix of a bunch of different fruits. We also pointed out that pasta salad doesn't technically have salad (as he understands it) in it. But in the end, despite our explanations and protestations, it didn't seem like he was buying it.

Of course, because I am a big geek, this got me thinking about the etymology of the word salad. I mean, was the word originally supposed to mean just veggies? Was the kid onto something?

Well, surprise, surprise. It's not vegetables that make a salad apparently. It's the dressingto salt! So, when you look up the definition of the word salad, its primary definitions are as follows:

a : green vegetables (as lettuce, endive, or romaine) and often tomatoes, cucumbers, or radishes served with dressing
b : a dish of meat, fish, shellfish, eggs, fruits, or vegetables singly or in combination usually served cold with a dressing

You notice the recurring theme of dressing?

So, apparently, throughout my childhood when I refused to let dressing cross my lips, I was just eating a hodgepodge of raw vegetables, but not salad. And nowadays, when I go pick up my bowl-of-vegetables-cheese-chicken-and-croutons, it does not actually become a salad until I add the Caesar's dressing. And fruit salad is not really salad unless there's some sort of dressing - and who puts dressing on fruit sal... I mean, on fruit.

My whole view of the world is just shattered. And all because of the innocent question of a five-year-old.