the "chopped salad" from leo

why is "chopped salad" in quotations, you might ask? this is not a chopped salad in the traditional sense (or, at least, my definition of it) but closer to a giardiniera or aperitivo salad. regardless, order this.

i have a tendency to be verbose and wax poetic about things (see below), so before I get into all of that, i want to state this plainly: this is my favorite salad in New York.

research has shown this dish has something of a cult following already, with several reddit threads dedicated to unlocking the correct proportions of x, y, and z to make it at home. i'm late to the party, but now a disciple.

i've eaten at Leo a handful of times. solid pizza with sourdough crust and a rotating soft serve selection. it's in the neighborhood, affordable, reliably delicious, and you can always secure a table. last night i ran into my friend rebecca – a leo scholar – at the tail end of her anniversary dinner. she advised we order the chopped salad. and thank god for that.

every bite was a discovery of texture and flavor. the small universe of this salad contains each and every taste, crunch, zip, and "oh my god?!" available to the human palette. an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink affair well-dressed in a bright, tart oregano(?) dressing – the jury's still out on that one.

it's a paradox: it's everything, but it's not too much. we'd be mid-conversation before someone would inquire about an ingredient, "are there dates in this? carrots? how long did they toast those almonds for, my god?"

i can't remember the last time i had so much fun eating something. we spoke about this salad the moment it landed, over a glass of wine at Minnows after, and just this morning the group chat was singing its praises.

TLDR; skip the caesar (though that is quite good too) and order the chopped salad instead.