Cobb Salad and a Fresh Start

Some girls visit the long-avoided inner aisles of the grocery store then return home laden with their best friends Ben, Jerry, and Mrs. Fields, who don’t care at all that you’ve been moping around in the same clothes for three days. You plop down in front of the tv, go through 1½ boxes of generic store brand tissue during a marathon session of every DVD that cross categorizes between “Romance” and “Drama,” and fall asleep on the couch listening to the Say Anything soundtrack

(*sigh* why can't they all be like John Cusack?)...

Some girls drop kick the everything and head straight for Román. Three years of dead locks, split ends, and all kinds of emotional baggage? Cut it all off! I want to start fresh! I want to leave that messy mess behind! And the girl comes out, back to her roots, with fresh new (out)look, tossing their glossy flossy locks from side to side. “Watch out, world! I am ready!”

Some girls turn to retail therapy. Damaged psyche demands damaged credit. Baby needs a new pair of shoes. Patent leather peep-toes with a stiletto heel. And those adorable greige suede pumps will be perfect for summer-into-fall. Oooh, and…and…and…are those jeans on sale?

It seems that when there is something of a “break” of sorts, different girls deal with it in different ways. Either they go down one path of bodily harm and destruction, or they go down the other path of financial ruin. Or a chaotic, zig-zagging, weaving combination of all of the above with a few Citron/sodas thrown in for good measure. But in the end, there is always some melodramatic exit maneuver that signifies “moving on.” Like that haircut.

This girl? Forget it. No haircut. No shopping. And certainly no Ben & Jerry’s. I have taken the high road, and have decided that the fuck stops here. It’s time to get back in shape, both mentally and physically.

The mental part might not come so soon, but I can at least take on the challenge of the physical fitness. Too bad that I let my too-long-unutilized LA Fitness membership expire back in June, and there is no way I am paying the now ridculously increased monthly rates. Besides, I have to ease into it after leading a supersedentary lifestyle for the last 10 months. Then again, I have become amorously attached to my new laptop. Maybe I’ll walk to the end of the block today.

With my laptop.

But I can approach it from the other end. I may not be able to increase the energy output, but I can manage the energy input. Food. Meals. Not decreasing, just changing. I’ve got to stop eating all that junk. I haven’t admitted to it much recently, but yes, I have been subsisting these last few weeks on nothing but junk. One chocolate chip cookie is an indulgence, but I don’t care what you say about antioxidants, seven chocolate chip cookies in one sitting are junk.

I am exploring salads because this poor body hasn’t seen a fresh vegetable in weeks. (I would have said just “vegetable,” but French fries are potatoes and I’m pretty sure that the salsa on my nachos is made from vegetables, too.) Salads might be considered boring, but the challenge here is to see how interesting I can make them.

Of course, I know it’s doing neither my arteries nor my waistline any good to have a Cobb Salad laden with bacon, cheese, and avocadoes, but it sure beats…Carl’s Jr.

(That was a jo-ku. I haven't eaten anything from Carl's Jr. in about ten years.)

The Classic Cobb Salad has a little bit of history, and it starts right here in LA. The basic story takes place either in 1929 or 1936, depending on whom you ask. Bob Cobb, the restaurant manager for The Brown Derby restaurant, created the salad as a way to use up leftovers. BobCobb (I just like to say his whole name) simply made the salad for himself, but he off-handedly mentioned it to legendary Hollywood promoter, Sid Grauman. Yes, that Grauman, as in Grauman's Chinese Theatre. Grauman asked to try the salad, and fell in love with it.

Basically, it's today's equivalent of Oprah liking something. The rest is history.

This post and recipe were originally published August 5, 2006 (with the photo below) back when I was going through the first of many breakups that fueled this blog. I'm going through a breakup, though this time, it's with my old gorgeous house, glamorous neighborhood, and Westside lifestyle. The adjustment is slow and complicated.