“Do you think there might be too many pickles,” I ask my mom over the phone.
“Do it by the color. You remember. We always prepared it according to color.”
“French” salad. In the New Year’s time, the national Slovenian side dish. Not from France at all, but by a Belgian chef in Russia. The original recipe must have seen a number of updates, I am convinced that in Slovenia alone there are a few dozen versions and each family claims that their “French” salad is (of course) the best. I caught myself in several heated debates about what is a must and which ingredient simply doesn’t belong in the French salad. At home, we always stick to a simple formula “by color” and we absolutely do not skimp on mayonnaise.
This year for the second winter in a row, I prepared it myself in Saudi Arabia. A sizeable bowl, so one can enjoy it little by little in the last days of December. It’s so good that, I admit, I “steal” it with a spoon as well.
“Why do you call it a French salad, if no one else calls it that? I’ll call it a Slovenian salad,” said Tamer the other day and he agrees that (of course) mine is the best.