In a frost-bitten daze I go to the grocery store to try to brighten my mood. Maybe I can pick up some delicious produce, something different than the tightly wrapped broccoli and plastic cartons of spinach I’ve been eating since last October. Like Charlie Sheen having one more drink, I am in complete denial of reality—of my supermarket offerings that is.
I imagine glistening bins of dark leafy greens, towers of plump Brussels sprouts, and an array of colorful carrots neatly stacked in rows. Unfortunately I am awakened from my delusional stupor when the dank fluorescent lights of the produce aisle hit the whites of my eyes. Ashamed to let the check-out lady see the tears swell up in my eyes I quickly grab a bag of Romaine and dash out the door.
I go home and make this Caesar salad, lick my wounds, and wait patiently for spring.