You’re right. I did.
I like pecans, but I prefer walnuts in this particular salad. Oh, toasted, of course.
Oh, thank Og! Pickles are a thing but peppers are a lifestyle. Granted, I can’t do the super hots anymore… but pickled peppers make the world go round. Tuna fish sandwich? They work. Burgers… beef or chicken… they work. Chili…? They work!
Granted you have to play with the mix to get the temp just right or the next day your backside will burn like one of Elmo’s Space-X explosions… but if you know what you’re doing and what you can handle they are magic. That said, actual peppers really are (or can be) better than those tiny bottle hot sauces.
every time i try corned beef i wonder why someone intentionally ruined a nice piece of beef especially since you don’t have to dry out meat to store in the modern age…
I love truffles, but you can keep most truffle oil nonsense to yourself (the general you). That stuff they put on fast food fries and chips and whatever tastes chemically to me. But, you’re right — they have a pronounced and distinct flavor that doesn’t taste like any other “earthiness” I’ve encountered. It just tastes like “truffle.” And I totally understand not being into that flavor (plus a wee bit goes a long way.)
I, too, vote for pecans. But walnuts are okay in that salad, too. Or pine nuts.
Heh. My brother is coming over in an hour to pick up the car he left in my garage while he and his wife were on vacation. He was going to stop in Costco on the way and asked if I needed anything and I said “no…oh, wait! It’s probably too late because St. Patrick’s Day is well past, but if you see any of that wagyu corned beef, pick me up a chunk. Not the regular stuff they carry, only the fancy one.”
I looovvve corned beef 
.
No pine nuts for me in this salad. Pepitas, maybe. Pine nuts, no. Wrong flavor profile.
I’m confused by your reference to “dry out”. Corned beef is not dry. Nor is it a cooking method to recover previously dried meat back to palatably hydrated.
Color me mystified.
originally they salted “aka corned” the beef for preservation which i assumed meant dried
I won’t turn my nose up at walnuts, but I have a strong preference for pecans, if I get a choice!
Agreed about pine nuts.
This, for sure.
I love earthy-tasting foods of all sorts, despite how different they all are: Beets, goat cheese, arugula, truffles, love 'em all.
I don’t know that I would love truffles quite so much if I had to pay for them, though. Lucky me: I live in a forest with the right trees at the right age to forage for them when the urge strikes. There are both white and black Oregon truffles in the loam beneath my trees. The black ones are more rare and always deeper than the whites.
My first little dachshund found the first truffle on this property without prompting. Who’s a good boy? It didn’t take me long to figure out how to find them on my own after that. Their odor is so pungent and distinctive. You can always tell when you’ve hit a mother lode. No dog required. 
I don’t want a ton of them. A couple or three will do every year. They are a luxurious treat, if you like that sort of thing.
I enjoy beets and goat cheese. Arugula is a little bitter for my tastes, but i didn’t think it’s the earthiness that puts me off.
Who knows, maybe if i tried fresh real truffles i would like them. I’m not sure I’ve ever had anything other than k probably artificial) truffle oil.
You very likely might, especially if you enjoy other earthy-tasting foods. As @pulykamell points out, they’re nothing like the truffle oil offered commercially, though I’m sure there are some that are made with real truffles and not the artificial stuff, and those might be lovely.
I tried to send one to someone once who really wanted to try them, but it didn’t work. I packed it in rice and shipped it quick, but it still deteriorated past a usable state.
True truffle snobs don’t consider Oregon truffles to be on a par with the European ones, though, so maybe mine would still be sub-standard!
…stupid crossword puzzles, makin’ me think those were the same thing…
Oh interesting, i didn’t know that “pepita” referred to pumpkin seeds, either. I like those. I made some super pepita-brittle early in the pandemic. But i didn’t think i want those in my yuppie salad. (Which is what that salad, generically, is known as in my circles.)
Since this was in the context of a corned beef discussion, when I read:
I thought you were going to say that your brother mistakenly forgot and left a corned beef in the back seat of the car when he parked it in the garage before going on vacation. Y’all don’t use the garage (which is why it was available), but this morning you went to open it up and encountered a smell…
Never mind.
We’ell, years ago a group of friends and I wanted to go to Solvang and packed a picnic lunch for the trip. It was so cold and foggy on our drive that we nixed the picnic and stopped at Pea Soup Anderson’s in Buellton instead.
Guess who forgot all those sandwiches in her trunk for weeks?
No, not me. My sister. I dodged that bullet!
ISWYTD. 
FTR, it’s Andersen’s. BTDT, got the shirt stains to prove it. 
Is that a scene from “Delicious 2”…? /s
Two things.
“Just eat” is a very valid reason for visiting Montreal! The combination of the French love of food and the multicultural ethnic authenticity is magic!
BTW, the only time I heard the phrase “just eat”, it was directed at me in the rather wonderful context of being in a really fine sushi bar a great many years ago. I didn’t realize at the time that I was a classless boor with respect to sushi, and was dipping this wonderful stuff in far too much soy sauce. The Japanese chef came rushing over, waving his sharp sushi knife, and informed me that I was doing it wrong. That was when I also learned that in fine sushi bars, you can get the chef to just brush the right amount of soy sauce on the sushi (if and when soy is appropriate, which is not always). Which he proceeded to do for us, uttering those immortal two words, “just eat”!
There is probably no greater contrast between the skill and effort required for the preparation and spectacular presentation of fine sushi and the ease with which it’s consumed, which basically requires the customer to just open their mouth.
The practice of omaksase makes it even more decadent – you don’t even have to order, the chef makes all the selections. You tend to feel that it was worth it even when you finally get the bill of around $600 for two.