Consider the following.
I dislike salad without dressing.
Today however, I wanted to understand why.
I took out an old container of a house mix salad and poured a plate of it in front of me.
Holding it up to the sun, I examined a leaf of salad in all of its complexity. The little smudge of rot, the tens of holes presumably left by some voracious insect, and the beautiful purple veins running all over-these details and more captured my eye as I stared down the specimen. It certainly wasn't an unpleasant sight.
After pausing a while longer, I took a bite. It was bitter. I continued onward, leaf after leaf, bite after bite. As I ate, I contemplated the salad. The taste, the texture, the appearance, the smell... why couldn't I like it?
Midway through my sampling, I was interrupted by a question, but began a conversation.
"Isn't salad without dressing terrible?"
"Yes. Yes it is,"
"Why do you eat it then? And why do you have such a smile? There is dressing right here!"
"Allow me to answer your question with a question. Why do you dislike salad without dressing?"
"It's bland, duh."
"Oh really? What about other foods we eat? Is rice not bland? What about bread?"
"Fine, fine, it's not bland, it's bitter!"
"And what's wrong with that?"
"I don't like bitter!"
"And why do you not like bitter?"
"I just don't."
"Do you like dark chocolate more than milk chocolate?"
"What do you take me for. Of course I like dark chocolate more."
"Why do you not like milk chocolate then?"
"Because milk chocolate is too sweet and dark chocolate has a bit more of a bitter... oh I see what you're doing here."
"You can't really say you dislike bitter then, can you? Cacao is actually more bitter than any salad you're going to find here. Anyways back to the question. Why do you not like salad without dressing."
"You know, I never really thought that deeply about it. I haven't had a salad in years either."
Without another word, I silently poured a pile of salad onto another plate and stared at the person facing me. A sigh rang out and I heard the bench creak as more weight was added to it.
For minutes, nothing more could be heard but children and cars in the distance, and the sound of vegetables being chewed.
After finishing my plate, I stood up, stretched, and yawned.
"Salad without dressing truly is the worst," I said, as I walked away from the bench.