iklan
When I was growing up on Long Island, New York my mother often asked me to walk four blocks to the local deli and buy lunch meat or salad. The store owner knew me because his daughter was a friend of mine. "What would you like to taste?" he would ask. My answer was always the same -- macaroni salad. He would hand me a small dish of salad, a tiny spoon to eat with, and add "No charge."