Toronto has not always been the salad city it is now.
When my mom moved here in 1969 from Morocco via France, she despaired at only finding iceberg lettuce in supermarket produce aisles. Her feelings of dislocation, loneliness and longing as a newcomer were distilled into her relationship with the city鈥檚 so-called 鈥済reen鈥 grocers. 鈥淣obody,鈥 she鈥檚 told me with a garnish of gloom, 鈥渉ad even heard of endives.鈥
The city has made great strides since, at least when it comes to roughage. Traditionally, ordering a salad as a meal speaks to a certain discipline and restraint. Lettuce tends not to be the stuff of last-supper fantasies, no matter how extravagantly you dress it. But today鈥檚 salad culture has turned the former side dish into a maximalist main event.
Take girl-lunch capital Mandy鈥檚 Gourmet Salads, which has mastered the magic trick of making salad-eating seem like escapist indulgence. 鈥淲e call Mandy鈥檚 鈥榝ast fancy鈥 instead of 鈥榝ast casual,鈥欌 says Rebecca Wolfe, its co-founder with her sister, the titular Mandy.
Mandy鈥檚 makes salad feel like a vacation with a side of seared tuna and status packaging
When you go to Mandy鈥檚, you feel like you鈥檝e stepped into a life-sized Ladur茅e macaron box or a beach house in Harbour Island (where Rebecca spends much time). The latest outpost, in Yorkville, is adorned with hand-painted palm trees and scalloped Maghreb archways, inspired by the fabulist fever dream hotel Villa Palladio in Rajasthan. Even the takeaway packaging is pretty: the pastel paper sacs, the pale-pink hue of marabou slippers, are like status bags perched proudly on every other (hot) desk in many a downtown office.

Mandy and Rebecca Wolfe, co-owners of Mandy’s Salads.
Alison SlatteryWhen I speak to the Wolfe sisters over Zoom they are both post-workout, sitting in their respective cars and looking busy and fabulous. I remark on their chic sunglasses and one of the sisters, I鈥檓 not sure which, chimes in: 鈥淥hmygod, no! We鈥檙e so gross! We just exercised!鈥
In their partnership, it鈥檚 Mandy who is the culinary genius (says Rebecca). Their salads, like their interiors, are colourful, bounteous, Instagram-seducing confections. I order the seasonal Seared Tuna salad, made with purple cabbage, kale, edamame, avocado and togarashi-dusted seared tuna 鈥 it鈥檚 beautiful and delicious and it runs me nearly $30.
It鈥檚 clearly a winning recipe. Mandy鈥檚 now claims nine storefronts in Montreal and two in 海角社区官网with two more on the horizon, a couple of bestselling cookbooks and a forthcoming line of housewares called Mandy Maison.
The sisters started slinging roughage in the back of Rebecca鈥檚 now husband鈥檚 clothing store, Mimi and Coco, in Montreal鈥檚 Westmount in 2004. The idea took root after she attended Parsons School of Design in New York in the early aughts and often lunched on meal-sized salads. 鈥淵ou could literally go into any bodega and create your own salad,鈥 she reminisces. The trend had not yet sprouted in Canada. 鈥淲e set up Ikea fridges, a three-foot counter, and offered a definitive VIP service: we made whatever salad any customer wanted, however they wanted it,鈥 Rebecca says. (They usually wanted The Crunchy Sesame, made with romaine, crunchy noodles, toasted sesame seeds and mandarin slices; it still stars on the Mandy鈥檚 menu.) In 2013, the 鈥渟alad sisters鈥 opened their first proper storefront. 鈥淲e wanted to provide salad to everyone in the world and we want people to be able to eat it in a stylish way.鈥

A Mandy’s Peanut Satay salad.
Alison SlatteryMuch has changed in food culture (and otherwise) since those early salad days. But then, every era has its lunch trends and nutritional mores. The late, great Nora Ephron once assessed our cultural evolution from the point of view of salad. Upon recounting an incident with a friend, she wrote: “This was right around the time that arugula was discovered, which was followed by endive, which was followed by radicchio, which was followed by fris茅e, which was followed by the three M’s-mesclun, mache, and microgreens and that, in a nutshell, is the history of the past forty years from the point of view of lettuce.鈥
Ephron wrote this in 2006, right before the Age of Kale swept in. (鈥淜ale鈥,鈥 says Mandy, pausing as if to honour its enduring reign. 鈥淲e still love kale!鈥 Although her new favourite green is baby gem. 鈥淭he leaves are firm, tender, they hold up well! Crispy and sweet!鈥)
The kale craze, buoyed by the adjacent green juice revolution, coincided with the villainization of carbs, the demise of the sandwich (RIP the panini) and the rise of the bowl. Salads were an obvious beneficiary here, but there were also burrito bowls, a莽ai bowls, grain bowls, smoothie bowls, protein bowls 鈥 In 2015, noted lover of culinary indulgence Nigella Lawson declared that she would like to eat everything out of a bowl. In 2018, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle opted for 鈥渂owl food鈥 for their royal wedding 鈥 a choice considered scandalous by British etiquette experts who suggested their rejection of the flat plate鈥檚 formality served as an ominous sign.
There is something humble, comforting and intimate about eating from a bowl. It invites abundance and specificity, feeding our collective obsession with add-ons, optimizations and you-do-you individualization. Your bowl, your choice.
At Forest Hill Farmhouse, salad gets the SoCal treatment: minimalist, meticulous and about $20 a bowl
鈥淲hen we first opened, I loved seeing all the customizations. There was a $52 salad!鈥 says Blair Bitove, who founded Forest Hill Farmhouse in midtown 2022. It now has five locations, having just opened the doors in Liberty Village.
Farmhouse serves a (spring) mix of takes on the classics: Cobbs, Greeks, Caesars, all named after streets in Forest Hill. The Coulson Cobb ($21 with tax) is a riff on the American standard made with feta 鈥 鈥渂lue cheese is polarizing,鈥 says Bitove 鈥 and tossed with a honey truffle vinaigrette instead of the heavier and potentially-alienating buttermilk ranch.
Here, lettuce is never pre-cut or bagged; dressings are made daily in store. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 just offer onions, we offer pickled onions, too,鈥 Bitove says proudly. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 just have broccoli, we offer spicy broccoli! We have grilled eggplant, and watermelon radishes 鈥 ingredients that go beyond what you鈥檇 find at a typical salad bar.鈥

Forest Hill Farmhouse salads.
Tania di NardoIf Mandy鈥檚 is all whimsical maximalism, Farmhouse is more SoCal minimalism, with sun-splashed white oak walls, wood-panelled ceilings, and flowing greenery. It feels like stumbling into Brentwood Country Mart, somewhere between Jenni Kayne and Goop; if Gwyneth Paltrow鈥檚 takeout ghost kitchen in Santa Monica, Goop Kitchen, had a brick-and-mortar shop, I imagine it would look like this.
Bitove has spent a lot of time in the U.S.; she went to the University of Southern California, and says she lived on the salad chain Sweetgreen when she attended law school in Chicago. 鈥淲hen I was living in L.A., I鈥檇 go on [American food-delivery service] Postmates and there were so many different options for good, healthy food. But when I moved back to 海角社区官网in 2018, if I typed 鈥榮alad鈥 into Uber Eats, I鈥檇 only get Wendy鈥檚 as an option!鈥 says Bitove, laughing. 鈥淎lso, sometimes I just wanted a good Caesar salad, but I didn鈥檛 want to go to a fancy restaurant.鈥
If the U.S. has long been known, metaphorically, as a cultural melting pot, 海角社区官网has identified as more of a salad bowl in its celebration of distinct and different cultures, tastes and flavours. And for those who haven鈥檛 found it easy being green, the ice(berg) age has melted and the city has grown lush with choice.
To join the conversation set a first and last name in your user profile.
Sign in or register for free to join the Conversation