Here we go again. It is The Salad House? Or just Salad House? Probably the least important thing about an eatery — that three-letter article — but it still confounds me that the most important marketing item establishments have is their name and they still can’t get it quite right. Take it seriously and be consistent. It’s not that hard. But, hey, they have the word “salad” in their name and that’s the most critical thing they can push, I guess. Because that’s their bread and butter. Or, more so, their lettuce and dressing.
Salad joints are everywhere. Shit, a sweetgreen opened not 50 feet away from Salad House in what could only be an attempt to squash their spirit. But, it turns out, a couple years later, that there’s enough salad frenzy to go ’round on this little chunk of block on South Fullerton Ave. I expected to walk by six months after the sweetgreen monster rolled in to see a “for lease” sign on Salad House’s door, but it has miraculously hung on. And we, if nothing else, are pretty loyal. We continue to hit up Salad House, even if their volume of avocado in their Fiesta Chx salad has gone from robust when they first opened to meager in year four. And this is before whatever has ended up happening with those dang tariffs on Mexico when you’re reading this. I think shrinkflation has been an issue across all areas, of course, but there’s something just a little less considered about their food over time. And it’s not as if the salads are small by any means — and are not too badly priced in the $13 range — but it the volume has just deflated.
Now, while their salads may not be small, their sandwiches are. Just tiny and kind of sad. Ms. Hipster got a Caprese Chicken sandwich and it was… almost laughable. $11 for a what had to be a single chicken breast sliced in half both vertically and horizontally, thrown on a focaccia and topped with the slimmest of toppings. My chipotle chicken wrap tasted just fine, but had maybe a couple ounces of meat in a small whole wheat wrap, and was pretty much 85% rice. Hipster Jr. does get their rice bowl and likes them, but he orders double chicken (the same thing he does at Chipotle) which I understand after seeing the minuscule portions of their non-salad entrees. And that, without him adding anything extra, tops out at $17. Hardly seems worth it. And, honestly, Hipster Jr.’s taste is… questionable. Hipster Jr. Jr. gets their chicken fingers and fries. Again, she likes them, but they are a little bit skimpy — and I think one time came with like four fries.
This is all to say, go to Salad House for the salads. They’re not going to blow your mind, but they’re a solid choice for lunch when you don’t want a grease bomb or some sort of carb-on-carb load. It’s nothing fancy, it’s nothing over-wrought, it just is. Salads for people who like some stuff, but not all the stuff.
18 S Fullerton Ave. – Montclair
973/337-8438
thesaladhouse.com
