prosecco salad — Benkei

It's any salad with a dressing of disdain from the chips 'n' pies 'n' beans 'n' potato crisp sandwich brigade, of whom I am a member.

Your logic is valid but this premise makes it unsound. — Jamal

You can have a smaller or larger slice of the pie, but when it gets to half the pie and beyond, you basically have the pie, minus a slice or two. A slice has to have 2 cut sides and the slice between them.

What's a prosecco salad? — Benkei

I don't know, I'm only a peasant. I see you're familiar with lines of coke though.

salad with a dressing — Cuthbert

They're so weird aren't they. Not only do they insist on dressing for dinner, they have to have the dinner dress too.

Not only do they insist on dressing for dinner, they have to have the dinner dress too — unenlightened

It's the drizzling I find so odd. Drizzle is what we used to get when it wasn't quite raining. Now it goes on food.

You can have a smaller or larger slice of the pie, but when it gets to half the pie and beyond, you basically have the pie, minus a slice or two. A slice has to have 2 cut sides and the slice between them. — unenlightened

If buns were pies, rather than small loafs, I'd admit defeat here.

*loaves?

You're not a peasant, more like a food heathen.

Reminds me of a story. I'll try to make it link back to the OP, but more so I want to tell my story.

So I was in France, speaking broken French, trying to buy a baguette, and the cashier asked me something that was far beyond the standard exchange one would expect in such a purchase, so I just nodded agreeably, having no idea what she was saying, but she kept insisting upon a better answer, so I apologized, telling her I didn't understand her, that I spoke English. The lady behind me told me I was being asked if it would be ok if the cashier bent the baguette in half to fit it in the bag, and then I agreed, although I thought that was an odd thing to do and I would likely have been confused had I been asked that same thing in English in America. An old man behind me then lectured me on the requirement that I speak only French when in France.

That's a story about bread, baguettes, and context, where "I don't understand" means "I don't care about your culture." I mean, how was I supposed to decipher "can I bend your bread in half" from the few words I understood in the context I described?

Next time I'll communicate better by wearing my bright white tennis shoes, my baseball cap, and my cargo shorts so they won't confuse me for being French.

Next time I'll communicate better by wearing my bright white tennis shoes, my baseball cap, and my cargo shorts so they won't confuse me for being French. — Hanover

There is no way they would have thought you were French; that was them publicly humiliating you for having the temerity to be in France and not speak French. Next time go to Spain. It is of course sacrilege to bend a bagutte, or put it in a bag, but since it sounds like some supermarket and not a proper boulangerie, it wouldn't have been a real baguette anyway, and carrying a folded baguette about town would be a further humiliation akin to having the scarlet letter 'A' embroidered on your dress.

There is no way they would have thought you were French; that was them publicly humiliating you for having the temerity to be in France and not speak French. Next time go to Spain. It is of course sacrilege to bend a bagutte, or put it in a bag, but since it sounds like some supermarket and not a proper boulangerie, it wouldn't have been a real baguette anyway, and carrying a folded baguette about town would be a further humiliation akin to having the scarlet letter 'A' embroidered on your dress. — unenlightened

How did you know what my dress looked like? Were you the old man lecturing me?
.

When I was a kid in London I asked at a bakery for a 'sausage roll' and the baker took a bread roll, sliced it, inserted a cooked sausage and handed it to me. It was very pleasant but it was not a sausage roll. A few years later I asked (at a different bakery) for a cheese bun and the baker explained that buns are sweet and do not come with cheese. Misunderstandings in bakeries are a social menace. I blame the decline of platonic essentialism and the malign influence of Quine and Foucault.