bunnyjadwiga

The Fruits, Herbs and Vegetables of Italy (Brieve racconto di tutte le radici, di tutte l'herbe et di tutti i frutti, che crudi o cotti in Italia si mangiano) by Giamacomo Castelvetro has lots to say about salads. But this is the oft-quoted (and very apt section (Gillian Riley translation)

It takes more than good herbs to make a good salad, for success depends on how they are prepared. So, before going any further, I think I should explain exactly how to do this.

It is important to know how to wash your herbs, and then how to season them. Too many housewives and foriegn cooks get their greenstuff all ready to wash and put it in a bucket of water, or some other pot, and slosh it about a little, and then, instead of taking it out with their hands, as they ought to do, they tip the leaves and water out together, so that the sand and grit is poured out with them. Distinctly unpleasant to chew on . . .

So, you must first wash your hands, then put the leaves in a bowl of water, and stir them round and round, then lift them out carefully. Do this at least three or four times, until you can see that all the sand and rubbish has fallen to the bottom of the pot.

Next, you must dry the salad properly and season it correctly. Some cooks put their badly washed, barely shaken salad into a dish, with the leaves still so drenched with water that they will not take the oil, which they should to taste right. So I insist that first you must shake your salad really well and then dry it thoroughly with a clean linen cloth so that the oil will adhere properly. Then put it into a bowl in which you have previously put some salt and stir them together, and then add the oil with a generous hand, and stir the salad again with clean fingers or a knife and fork, which is more seemly, so that each leaf is properly coated with oil.

Never do as the Germans and other uncouth nations do -- pile the badly washed leaves, neither shaken nor dried, up in a mound like a pyramid, then throw on a little salt, not much oil and far too much vinegar, without even stirring. And all this done to produce a decorative effect, where we Italians would much rather feast the palate than the eye.

You English are even worse; after washing the salad heaven knows how, you put the vinegar in the dish first, and enough of that for a footbath for Morgante, and serve it up, unstirred with neither oil nor salt, which you are supposed to add at table. By this time some of the leaves are so saturated with vinegar that they cannot take the oil, while the rest are quite naked and fit only for chicken food.

So, to make a good salad the proper way, you should put the oil in first of all, stir it into the salad, then add the vinegar and stir again. And if you do not enjoy this, complain to me.

The secret of a good salad is plenty of salt, generous oil and little vinegar, hence the text of the Sacred Law of Salads:
Insalata ben salata, poco aceto e ben oliata
Salt the salad quite a lot, then generous oil put in the pot, and vinegar, but just a jot.

And whoever transgresses this benign commandment is condemned never to enjoy a decent salad in their life, a fate which I fear lies in store for most of the inhabitants of this kingdom.

Castelvetro, Giacomo. The Fruit, Herbs & Vegetables of Italy: An offerng to Lucy, Countess of Bedford Trans. Gillian Riley. (London: Viking, 1989).

So, what do we learn?
Salads should be washed.
Salads should be dressed with oil and vinegar.
Apparently, the Germans and the English may not have commonly dried their salad greens well.
Decorative pyramidic or heaped salads may have been a German fashion.
The English put the oil and salt in their salads at table (1611)
The Germans and the English may have used more vinegar on their salads than the Italians