By Sue Murphy
I didn’t want fries. I wanted something else. For years, decades even, burgers have automatically come with fries. I appreciate the tradition, but I am not a burger person. I’m a fish sandwich kind of gal. Now, I know that puts me in the minority, and I have accepted that the burger contingency will be more visible and vocal, but I think there’s room for all of us at the table.
When I told the waitress I didn’t want fries, she sighed, “Well, you could have onion rings.” To me, onion rings are a food that pretends to be a fancy step up from fries, but isn’t. Yes, onion rings start with a different vegetable, and they go ‘round and ‘round, but in the end, they wind up in the same place as the fries – in a deep vat of oil. A lot of people like this, but not me, at least not this time around.
When I said I didn’t want onion rings either, the waitress shrugged. “Those are your two choices.”
I want more choices. Even though they’re called French fries, fries have been embraced as a flag-waving, All-American side and onion rings are right up there with them, but I don’t think it makes me unpatriotic to ask for other options. If I have looked over the choices on the menu and neither of them appeals to me, I’d like to be able to write in something else.
It does not seem fair that the fries and onion rings people get a voice and I do not. I’m sure there was a process involved in determining what would be printed on the menu. The powers-that-be might even have offered multiple choices early on – coleslaw and beans and potato salad – but somewhere along the line, it was decided that only two choices would be presented to the general public: fries and onion rings. But, I have tried them both, many, many times, and have come to the conclusion that neither one of them works for me. At this point in history, they’re not what I need to be a healthy, self-respecting individual.
What did I want? Well, after careful consideration of how each of the alternate options would affect my future, I wanted a salad, you know, something fresh and crisp, something that would make a positive impact on me going forward. It didn’t have to be a fancy salad, not something that included super-foods or some far-flung vinaigrette. All I wanted was a mixture of lettuces, a couple of cucumber slices, a few tomatoes, things I could understand, things with proven nutritional track records. Oh yes, and I wanted everything to be grown in the U.S. What could be more patriotic than that? If the restaurant branched out and added a side-salad choice to the menu, they’d end up with something strong on vitamins and fiber, something healthy and reliable, something one would be proud to put out at a state dinner.
I’d be willing to pay for these extra options. Heck, I’d be willing to pay for them to be offered to everyone, even if it required adding an extra box or two to the menu. I mean, it’s only paper.
So that’s my platform: I stand staunchly on the side of offering people multiple healthy choices. I may not get my way, but if I don’t at least speak up, I’ll have no one to blame but myself.
Watch me, my friends. When it’s my turn to vote, I’m writing in “salad.”
