Everyone hates on iceberg lettuce, so I thought I'd better take a moment to defend it. Iceberg is wonderful--full of water and crunch. It's basically like a potato chip that you pick in the garden (especially if you salted it; I've never done that, but I don't see why you couldn't). I love crunchy foods. I want to hear my food crackle as I eat it.Iceberg is simple: Iceberg and some dressing together make a delicious snack. I love salads with loads of toppings, but I also love plain old iceberg and dressing. Iceberg has been a comfort food for me for sometime. You could probably eat 18 lbs. of iceberg lettuce without gaining any weight, which makes it the ideal comfort food. I remember half a dozen years ago being distressed over some boy I had a crush on, while distractedly eating iceberg lettuce. It was then that a friend pointed out that it must be a comfort food for me. You can have your macaroni and cheese; I'll take the iceberg (okay, okay, I like mac and cheese, too).
Iceberg is strong. Spinach, for instance, which I eat a lot of, gives up the ghost with very little prodding. Spinach sags and falls into your mouth, like a backboneless, overcooked piece of fish that you can't even got onto your fork. Iceberg, though, is full of water and taut. You really have to let it sit in your fridge for months for it to wilt. It is hardy and hardy in your mouth, too. It's like the meat of lettuces.
Iceberg is easy to deal with: it doesn't need to be washed (right??); you just take a chunk in your hands, rip it up in bite sized pieces and then eat it. I think that Romaine is often dirty. You have to wash it; you have to dry it; or you have to own a salad spinner...so complicated. Iceberg, on the other hand, is user friendly. Open the bag; put it in your mouth. You should hear me go off about cabbage, which I love even more...
6 comments:
Alas, I am with Ogden Nash on this one:
ICEBERG LETTUCE
I cheerfully forgive my debtors,
But I'll never pardon Iceberg Lettuce.
A pallid package of rigidity,
I hope I'll never be so punchy,
As to relish my salad crisp and crunchy,
Yet garden lettuce with leafy head
Is as hard to get as unsliced bread.
I'm with him on unsliced bread!
I'm with Locklin (pardon the length:
"The Iceberg Theory"
by Gerald Locklin
all the food critics hate iceberg lettuce.
you'd think romaine was descended from
orpheus's laurel wreath,
you'd think raw spinach had all the nutritional
benefits attributed to it by popeye,
not to mention aesthetic subtleties worthy of
veriaine and debussy.
they'll even salivate over chopped red cabbage
just to disparage poor old mr. iceberg lettuce.
I guess the problem is
it's just too common for them.
It doesn't matter that it tastes good,
has a satisfying crunchy texture,
holds its freshness
and has crevices for the dressing,
whereas the darker, leafier varieties
are often bitter, gritty, and flat.
It just isn't different enough and
it's too goddamn american.
of course a critic has to criticize;
a critic has to have something to say
perhaps that's why literary critics
purport to find interesting
so much contemporary poetry
that just bores the shit out of me.
at any rate, I really enjoy a salad
with plenty of chunky iceberg lettuce,
the more the merrier,
drenched in an Italian or roquefort dressing.
and the poems I enjoy are those I don't have
to pretend that I'm enjoying.
and pardon the unclosed parentheses.
Emily, this post reminded me how much I love you.
And I wanted to be cool too, so I also found a poem about iceberg lettuce (though I can't say it particularly encapsulates my feelings on the leafy green).
Iceberg Lettuce
By Joanie Mackowski
What vegetable leviathan
extends beneath the dinner table,
an unseen, monstrous green that pulls
the chair out from under our faith
in appearances: see a mere tuft
of leaf on the plate like a wing,
but if it flies away, it undoubtedly
will disturb the continental drift
asleep under the salad plate,
the hidden world we forget
as we reach for the smaller fork—
(and now, mouth full, don't speak: politely
chew your leaf of firmament
that's torn and tossed up in vinegar here as
we'll be tossed before its vast
root maybe someday or any moment).
(ps, see also http://poetry-of-despair.blogspot.com/2010/12/iceberg-lettuce-prayer.html)
Oh my goodness. I cannot express how much I love that there is an Iceberg Lettuce sub-genre of poetry!! I certainly aspire to contribute to the genre one day.
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