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… and I never want to.

Chopped salads weren’t a feature of my childhood. Run-of-the-mill lettuce n’ tomato combos (tomato ignored by me at the time) and coleslaw were regulars on our table. But chopped… Not that I remember. And I’ve always flicked past them in cookbooks because copious amounts of mayonnaise always seem to be involved and that just makes me feel a little queasy. Teeny tiny pieces of unidentifiable food drowning in an ocean of gooey dressing does not make for an appetising dish.

Also, somehow, in my brain, chopped salad equalled egg mayo salad. Don’t ask me why.

Well, that’s one prejudice well and truly demolished. I don’t know what drew me to this recipe the most – the promise of the salty feta or the contrasting lighter flavour of the cucumber, along with the herbs. But all of a sudden, there I was at the kitchen counter, crumbling cheese, chopping red onion and rifling the fridge for whatever herbs I could find like my life depended on it.

The result was a crunchy, tangy revelation. To the point where I just stood there, scooping one spoonful after another onto a hunk of bread and shovelling it greedily into my mouth. Scoop, shovel, chomp, repeat. Followed by small sighs of contentment.

Joanna Weir’s Cucumber and Feta Salad via the incomparable David Lebovitz.

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Hello

I'm short of stature (a family trait) but big of appetite (also a family trait). If you're reading this then you're probably big of appetite too. Or a member of my family (hello Mum).
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