The Friday Fillip
My salad days,
When I was green in judgment: cold in blood . . .
Anthony & Cleopatra, Act 1, Scene V.
And in a sense these are the salad days — not that we’re inexperienced or at the peak of our powers, two ways in which that phrase is now understood — no, simply because it’s high summer, when edible green begins to tumble out of the bushel baskets at the market and it’s too hot to cook. Who better to discourse on salads than we here at a blog named Slaw?
Well, the New York Times, for one. . . . [more]


