I made a big little salad for supper. Not as big as Elaine's salad that George paid for and didn't get credit, because his girlfriend handed it to Elaine. Bigger than a side salad, but smaller than a meal salad. As Goldilocks might have described it, "That salad was just right."
The problem with my big little salad was the mushrooms. I had to carve them nigh to unrecognizability. Because I cannot stand gills in my mushrooms. You know, the dark feathery part under the cap. I can't deal with it. I trim the gills out, being careful not to touch them with my fingers. That stuff is too fungusy for me. I pop out the stems, and shudder at the sight. Nary a gill will touch my hearts of romaine.
The OCD Gourmet. Look for my new show on The Travel Channel. That little punk Andrew Zimmern needs to learn to eat durian, or he's gettin' the boot. I don't care how many roasted guinea pigs or how much wormy soft cheese he's consumed.