Dressing City

Masculinity unbound.

I’m dressing up. No, I’m not putting on a top hat and tails (seriously, I only have two settings: slob and stage coach driver), I’m whipping up a fresh batch of salad dressing [collective reader gasp]. “What sorcery is this?” you’re probably wondering. Not sorcery…saucery. The truth is, real men make their own salad dressing. Don’t get me wrong, my fridge is jam-packed with brand-name varieties of ranch and blue cheese dressings, but those are mostly for emergencies. By “emergencies” I mean any time I am hungry. Anyway, as the old saying goes, “If you’re going to do something, you should do it well. And after you’re done doing that thing, you should make salad dressing.” Here’s why: it’s delicious; it’s delicious; it’s good for the environment delicious. Sure, it’s time consuming, but, man alive, is it worth it! Also, when was the last time you heard somebody complain that their spouse makes salad dressing from scratch? Probably before pasteurization, right? In fact, I bet Louis Pasteur was inspired by all those failed batches of shallot and anchovy paste vinaigrette that nearly killed his entire neighborhood to invent pasteurization. Nothing motivates more effectively than mass food poisoning of your friends and family. That reminds me, I should probably cover and refrigerate this thousand island hybrid I’ve been emulsifying for the past four hours. It’s starting to look a little tainted. Can’t wait for lunch!


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