This is sometimes called a French dressing.
salt, pepper, mustard
small jar with lid
The Chef Has Imagination or It's Too Hard to Do it Easy|
by Ogden Nash, 1949
Hark to the lettuce lover.
I consider lettuce a blessing.
And what do I want on my lettuce?
Simply a simple dressing
But in dining car and hostel
I grow apoplectic and dropsical;
Is this dressing upon my lettuce,
Or is it a melting popsicle?
A dressing is not the meal, dears,
It requires nor cream nor egg,
Nor butter nor maple sugar,
And neither the nut nor the meg.
A dressing is not a compote,
A dressing is not a custard;
It consists of pepper and salt,
Vinegar, oil, and mustard.
It is not paprika and pickles,
Let us leave those to the Teutons;
It is not a pinkish puddle
Of grenadine and Fig Newtons.
Must I journey to France for dressing?
It isnít a baffling problem;
Just omit the molasses and yoghurt,
The wheat germ, and the Pablum.
Itís oil and vinegar, dears,
No need to tiddle and toil;
Just salt and pepper and mustard,
And vinegar, and oil.
For Brillat-Savarin, then, and Hoyle
Stick, friends, to vinegar and oil!
Yachtsman, jettison boom and spinnaker,
Bring me oil and bring me vinegar!
Play the music of Haydn or Honegger,
But lace it with honest oil and vinegar!
Choir in church or mosque or synagogue,
Sing, please, in praise of oil and vinegogue.
Iím not an expert, just a beginneger,
But I place my trust in oil and vinegar.
May they perish, as Remus was perished by Romulus,
Who monkey with this, the most sacred of formulas.
© Jo Edkins 2012 -