On Mondays we go shopping. But not just Shopping Centre shopping. We opt for the most exciting for a self-feeding student kind of shopping: grocery shopping. When the fridge becomes as empty as the space between rivalries caught up in a scene of a Western film, it is time to tap-dance your way to the supermarket. Honestly, it is time for that radioactive, growing cheese in the corner of the second shelf to go to the bin.
To make one’s way to the Promised Land of a parking lot is a true adventure. Especially if it rains, but you still insist on eating. Physiological needs above everything.
It has become almost a law for me to eat the Magical salad on Mondays after shopping. The reason might be that the salad requires a lot of products and, when the fridge suddenly opens the gates to gluttony, my stomach begs to commit a sin by devouring every fresh piece of food there is inside.
Internal thoughts of the body gave birth to the Magical Monday salad. The chameleonic essence is what the salad owes its name to, for the ingredients may vary if you live an interesting life and buy different products every week, unlike me – the monogamist in terms of food (my list of foods for the semester is set and changes very slightly from time to time).
However, in order to avoid any schizophrenic side effects caused by reading about the myriad of variations of the Magical Monday salad, the products listed here are inspired by the most memorable version of the salad I ever managed to make. Brace yourselves for the ultimate recipe of Dr. Frankenstein’s experimentation.
The THINGS for 1 portion of salad (sad):
Can of chickpeas – always and in every version of the salad
Natural tear gas
A cup of spinach leaves/pack of spinach since it has 0 calories and no taste – treat yaself
Tomato or TomEIto if you are an American or if you have grown up with Cartoon Network like me
A pair of a yolk and whites in a shell
Half can mackerel = very, very optional, because not everybody has a taste as weird as mine
Tablespoon of pesto, because pesto is never worthless
Salt
Basil
The METHOD to prepare the 1-person salad by yourself (even sadder):
1. Probably the most essential thing to do when you are making the Magic Monday Salad, is to PEEL THE CAN OF CHICKPEAS!!!! Yes, you heard me, people all over the world. It sounds very odd, but believe me – it was even more shocking to me to find out that people DO NOT peel their chickpeas. They don’t do it in the UK, in Finland, in Italy, in America… I thought it might not be something cultural, but individual and that, once again. It might just be me exposing my extraordinarily strange idiosyncrasies to the world. However, over the summer, when I was at home, I made the salad for my mum’s extended family and I told them how I had found it so funny that my flatmates didn’t peel chickpeas. Instead of saying: “Well, yes, of course, you don’t need to peel them,” everybody stopped pouring salad in their plates and looked at me as if it was my aim to poison them. My aunt cautiously asked: “But you HAVE peeled the chickpeas now, haven’t you?” to which I replied positively. That being established, everybody was relieved and they ate the salad without any worries. So, people, peel the chickpeas. It is a lot better for your tongue not to struggle with the flakes. THANK YOU!
2. Take your mega-awesome pan. Yes, that thing that you never use because you thought it could only serve as a weapon for self-defense. Put an unidentified amount of oil or butter on it – do not let the pan get to the proper temperature independently or you will really be able to use it only as a weapon after that. Wait for the butter to melt/the oil to start making agonizing noises.
3. Place the cut in advance natural tear gas and give it time to change color and release most of its nutritional qualities.
4. Before it burns, add the spinach leaves.
5. Realize I didn’t tell you to wash them. Burn our fingers, swear, curse me, while taking the leaves out of the pan. Wash them, but actually spend five minutes letting your fingers to cool down.
6. Now that we are cool, you can continue cooking the spinach in the pan. Wait for it to dreadfully diminish in size. Make a metaphor about how the human soul also diminishes when it is being squeezed by the heat and grease of the world. Move your pan from the hob. Add the spinach and onions to the chickpeas. Almost there.
7. Release the egg from the shell. Make another metaphor about the salvation of the soul from the chains of society. Then fry the egg trying not to think about frying your soul thanks to your own lack of self-appreciation.
8. Cut the egg into small pieces and sprinkle them over the salad.
9. Carry out a dissection of a tomato and mercilessly throw the pieces of the bloody bath in the bowl.
10. By far, your small bowl for One-person-salad is overfilled and some stuff start falling on the floor. Follow the five-seconds rule and eat them.
11. I suggest that you add some mackerel fillets from a can. As debatable as its origin is, the fish is quite delicious. If you can eat McDonalds’ without contemplating the components of a hamburger, then you can allow yourself some 50/50 fish.
12. Finish with a touch of salt and basil.
13. Be happy with the result, because, seconds later, you start mixing the whole composition. You find half of the Magic Monday salad magically disappear from the bowl and appearing all over the kitchen.
14. Eat whatever is left of it.
15. Try not to cry over the losses.
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