The Mistress

It’s time to share a deep dark secret with you. My husband has a mistress. She’s been a part of our lives since we were first married. She is a little older than I am and is from the Midwest. She is tangy, with just a hint of sweetness. She can brighten a dull meal and, despite a recent modest makeover, she has remained steadfast and true. Her name is Dorothy Lynch. And, yes, she is a salad dressing.

I did not grow up with Dorothy so my first introduction to her was at my future mother-in-law’s home. Little did I know that Dorothy would soon be moving in with us and be an on-going fixture within our household. Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing personal against Ms. Lynch. I’m just fascinated by the longevity of such an unpretentious, old-fashioned salad dressing from Nebraska that lists tomato soup as its primary ingredient.

Over the years, I’ve watched the salad dressing section of the grocery store burgeon from one small corner of a single shelf to scores of shelves filled with a bountiful mix of mind boggling choices.  There are ranch dressings, vinaigrettes, spritzer bottles, seasoning packets, low-fat dressings, peachy-mangoey stuff and on it goes. One has to ask, do we really need all these options?

I suppose our obsession for new and innovative products is rooted in our quest for the perfect fill-in-the-blank. Plain or strawberry yogurt is not enough anymore. We now have every fruit yogurt imaginable as well as yogurt with crunchy toppings, Greek yogurt and GoGurt.  The cereal aisle is a gauntlet of sugary, branny, fibery, charmsy, crunchy, raisiny selections. The classic round box of Quaker Oats oatmeal is tucked in amidst the steel cut oats, instant packets with cinnamon and crispy oat bars. The milk cooler is filled with skim, one percent, two percent, chocolate, strawberry, soy, almond (not sure how you extract milk from a nut) and old-fashioned whole milk. The chocolate chips are nestled on shelves filled with bags of chippettes, chip chunks, cherry drops, cookies and creamlings and peanut butter cup miniatures.  The frozen food section has veggies in sauces, potatoes in squares, circles and wedges, pizzas with thin, thick and filled crusts and ice cream bars, sandwiches, tubs and cartons.  And don’t forget the pharmaceutical aisle. Tylenol, Advil, Bayer and pain relievers for the back, the head, muscle spasms and leprosy.

Despite decades of grocery shopping in aisles exploding with diversity, I must confess that my kitchen is still more beige than tie-dyed. My cupboard has a box of Cheerios and Rice Krispies ready to greet me each morning. My refrigerator has a gallon of regular milk for our drinking and cooking needs. My freezer has a gallon of vanilla ice cream for late night noshing. And, of course, there is dear Dorothy, which leads me to one more deep, dark secret.

I’m glad my husband is still loyal to someone who is over fifty, born in the Midwest and a little bit tangy.

Here is my favorite non-Dorothy Lynch salad dressing. It is delicious on a spinach salad with a few sliced strawberries, toasted walnuts and whatever else you like on your salad greens. 

1/4 c. olive oil
2 tsp. Dijon mustard
2 tsp. rice vinegar
1/2 tsp. garlic salt
2 tsp. sugar
1 tsp. dried basil (optional)
salt and pepper to taste