I assemble four glass containers for Da and three for myself. I chop the veggies one after the other. Da’s container gets a generous helping of argula, while mine gets the bare minimum on purpose (can’t handle the greens in my salad!). I chop the yellow and red peppers, toss in clementines, and then the cherry tomatoes. Veggies done, I move on to nuts, cranberries and feta cheese. Some days I throw in some tofu or chickpeas and olives. Then I layer the quinoa. Not quite the rainbow colors that I aspire for in our salads, but somewhat there. All in all, it has taken me 45 mins. I stack them in my fridge, and heave a sigh of gratitude.
Preparing salads for the weekday lunches has been an integral and indispensable part of my weekend routine for the past several years. The satisfaction of having packed healthy food. The peace of mind from knowing that I don’t have to think about one out three meals for three to four week days. While salads are not comfort food for me, it is a staple for Da. He thrives on it. I don’t know what got me into this routine, but I am glad and thankful that it has stuck with us for all along.