I am a Salad, My Sister is a Dish

At lunchtime my father unveiled a stunningly deft analysis of my sister's and my particular personalities based on what we excel at preparing in the kitchen.

I am a salad: no need for recipes or fussy ingredients, can be thrown together from anything lying around with surprisingly good results, can be tossed recklessly,even thoughtlesssly into a bowl, without fuss and with complete spontenaity, ingredients flying this way and that. He also said I may be good at soups- though actually my baby is the one who excels at that, leaving us in a particularly one sided culinary conundrum if my father is right about food and personality.

I would of course add the following list of adjectives to his description: homegrown, fresh, a little crunchy, creative and neccessary for your health.

Jessica, on the other hand, is a dish or perhaps a sauce-measured, precise, complex, multi-stepped, ordered, and sophisticated...I can't argue with this one bit, it's true. Jessy doesn't like making salads, she says that mine always come out tasting so much better when I make them for her and I, in return, have to call her at least twice a week for this recipe or that because she really does have a certain method to her madness that produces excellent results!

This is the coven on the beach on Christmas day. I am the lettuce leaf and she is the layered, accessorized one. Go figure.