There's no possible way anything here is a salad. Even if you want to count the parsley, and no one ever does, that brick o' brown exudes so much meatiness it cancels any possible salad vibes the rest of the dishes can muster.

I don't know what the hell that pineapple thing is, but I'll bet it traumatized Douglas Trumbell Jr. as a kid and explains all the bristling antennas of his spaceship designs.

As for the item in the lower right-hand corner, consider the horrible truth: it's not only some sort of crouton goulash, it's served in a bowl of coagulated tomato soup.

No one's getting out alive today.