by Steven Doyle
The first time I ever slammed against a salad bar was at Steak and Ale as a young lad. The thought of the stack of the cold plates chilling to near iceberg levels only to be met with a layer of salad greens and the very first sampling of blue cheese ever still brings a slight moistening to the side of my lips.
I am not sure the last time I ran through that salad bar, or any salad bar for that matter, but it had to be at least five years ago because that was when the very last Steak and Ale closed its doors.
