"In the beginning, there was grilled cheese, and it was good. How could it not be — creamy melted cheese, bread crisped in butter? And then, of course, came the panini, once a simple Italian snack bar staple, turned seemingly ubiquitous. Now it looks like it may be the quesadilla's turn. And, really, the only thing to be said is: It's about time."

These are the wry words of Russ Parsons, and they cheerfully greeted my morning tea and me today. CLICK here to read his entire article.

I hadn't really considered that a quasi queso revolution was coming. I should have seen the signs though. Because quesadillas have been in my radar and my repertoire for years. I am glad to hear that they are throwing off the cheddar ties that bind them and finally coming out of the shadows of shame.

I say this because there is a possibility that I may be inadvertently (partially) responsible for the rejuvenation of what Russ Parsons referred to as a "dumbed-down sandwich" this morning. Because I have always known that quesadillas could be creative. I just never knew you needed a recipe, or even a plan!

Today I thought I'd bring you one of those dishes out of my memory banks. It's a rustic Italian salad of the utmost simplicity. It's the kind of salad that would be served to you after a large full meal, somewhere in the hot southern boot heel of Italy. It's crisp and tart. It's so brightly refershing that it will make you forget just how much of that rich pasta you actually ate.

It's not the most refined salad Italy has ever produced, and that is a large part of it's charm.

I must have eaten quite a bit of this salad in a past life because it comes together so naturally for me, and it feels as familiar as an old boot. There is a part of me that swears I invented it, and an even larger part of me that remembers discovering it somewhere charming. Yet I don't think I have eaten this salad too many times outside of my own home (at least in this life).

So when I decided to present this salad to you here I did a quick internet check to see if there was anything similar to my salad out there. Well it turns out that almost everyone with the slightest interest in Italian food has a version of this salad. I found recipes from Giada De Laurentiis, Lidia Bastianch– the list goes on. Even the New York Times featured one salad eerily similar to mine. Which tells me I must have been pretty popular in my past life.

Let’s have a history lesson.

I was always a good student. I was one of those kids that did well in almost every subject (notice I said almost…numbers still elude me).

But numbers aside, history was/is particularly delicious to me.

Cooking has an interesting history of course. You don’t have to go all the way back to medieval times to find a fascinating tale.

In fact I have a fun story for you. In the 1960s & 70s, in this country at least, the foodie-world was abuzz with the suddenly “discovered” truth behind “classical French cuisine”. It was brought to our attention by the commendable talents of Julia Child. Her book Mastering the Art of French Cooking changed the way American home cooks like my mother began to look at gourmet food.

As I have said before. I was raised on this kind of fare. I was a nine year old who liked chicken liver pâté. I knew crêpe was not pronounced crape, and sauces always started with bones.

But things can never stay just as they are, now can they? In fact changes were afoot in the culinary world. Because just as Ms. Child was introducing Americans to classical French cooking; classical French cooking was being challenged or perhaps re-interpretted in of all places– France!