Oh, woe! The woe of attempting to recreate a perfect salad that exists only in your sense memory. It had nuts upon it. And a tomato of some sort. And a lemon or basil or tarragon dressing? Oh woe, it was perfect. And it will never be again. Oh, the sorrow of forgotten salads, oh the ungodly pressure of selecting your own salad items!

I no longer know where I am going with this. I am going to eat my (sad) salad now.