Shakespeare’s contributions to the English language are legion; one of these is Cleopatra’s comment upon her romance with Julius Caesar, which she describes as “My salad days, / when I was green in judgment, cold in blood….” Note the repetition of the idea of “green,” meaning raw and innocent, as are nature’s new shoots. She regrets her affair as the naivite of youth, before she knew better. The term “salad days” has come to refer to the carefree time when one could just have an affair with the Emperor, or simply be young and stupid.
This Creamy Fruit Salad is merely stupid. Instructions include tinting the whipped cream pink with food coloring. Why? I can hear the grapes whining in that particularly weary teenagers use when they are embarrassed by their parents, as they attempt an escape over the side of the bowl. They’d like the strawberries to join their rebellion, but the strawberries, still under Mom’s sway, remain posed with a sickly sweet smile, only faintly aware of their complicity in this tragic enactment of the end of culture as we know it.
Creamy Fruit Salad, The Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library, 1971
