I cannot describe to you the way we feel about salad. We’re mad to grow it, mad to eat it, and mad to talk about it. Every night, one of us walks down the basement stairs to the cooler and fills a bowl with fresh greens. One of us throws some oil, acid, salt, and mustard into the Vitamix. One of us roasts some nuts or blasts some chickpeas. One of us chops some veggies. And every night, there is not enough salad.