Miah Week 3 - The Science Behind the Perfect Salad (With Graphs)

 The Science Behind the Perfect Salad

        Welcome to the third week. Fortunately for me and unfortunately for the rest of you, I have more niche topics to write about. This time, we're covering salads; specifically, how to make the best salad.

        Salads, like every other human food, are surrounded by people's opinions on it. Some people eat them for health, some for taste, and some don't eat them at all, but a universal fact about salads is that you will always have a favorite. Health nuts tend to go for kale, Italy enthusiasts normally enjoy anything with balsamic vinegar, and even self-proclaimed salad haters will settle for a Caesar. (I was going to make a joke about the Ides of March here, but I couldn't think of anything good enough. Feel free to assassinate me for it, but try to become close friends with me beforehand. It'll fit better thematically.)

        The world of salads is a tumultuous and lengthy journey, but fret not. I know of your salad pain and dressing woes. Just for you, I've made a few graphs on how to make the perfect salad.

        To start off, I must make two things clear: I will not be including dressing in this salad. It's the only thing that's truly subjective about them. I will also be utilizing the shake-it-up method, or, as I like to call it, "How Much Force Can I Use On This $5 Tupperware Container Before It Builds Up Enough Energy to Self-Detonate?"

        It is now time to describe what I like to call the Fat Bowl Theory.

        This is your Fat Bowl. I call it this from a place of endearment. To begin making the perfect salad, you have to start with the perfect base, and something deep like a jar or fat bowl will do the trick. Now it's time to fill it with your salad ingredients; for this example, I'm using lettuce, tomatoes, and croutons.

        Observe. The lettuce-to-tomato ratio is a little off, but we're not talking about that. I like a lot of lettuce. After this, you just have one thing left to do: pop a lid on it and see how much force it takes to turn the bowl (or jar) into a pseudo-explosive device. (Note: Please do not actually cause an explosion. The salad will get singed.) It should look a little something like this:

        The croutons fall to the bottom for crunch, and the salad is complete.

        However, I promised the perfect salad, and this isn't it. Sure, it caters to the ones that like a mixed salad, but some people like it in even layers. For that, I've proposed an alternative. One that creates a smooth, delicate salad stack without disrupting the topmost crouton layer. Here it is below.

        Start off by layering your croutons in two tiers on either side of the bowl. Then, all that's left to do is collapse it.

        Observe. The croutons fall perfectly into place, and your salad layers are intact. You can now enjoy your personal perfect salad.

        This isn't quite it either, though. There's another secret, third tier of salad: the metaphysical salad. For this, I will have to ask you to suspend your disbelief until the end. There are a lot of ways to perceive the salad that's about to appear; as a metaphor, as an allegory, as a prophecy. It all depends on how you want to look at it, and how much you like salad.

        Begin with a simple, layered salad, like the one in the original Fat Bowl.

        Now do something to it that makes it look a little bit like this:

        Observe. For an extra step, feel free to fill the salad void with a lettuce portal, like this:

        Congratulations! You now know how to make the perfect salad in three ways. Out of each of these methods, which one is your favorite?