I should warn you now that I hate onions. Hate 'em with a passion bordering on battle frenzy. As I've gotten older, I've come to recognize that certain dishes require onions, but my palate hasn't changed so much that I've made my peace with that evil vegetable. Onions don't make me cry; they make me angry. I often resent their sneaky-bastard presence in foods like hamburgers, pizza, and spaghetti sauce. At the same time, I've resigned myself to the fact that onions occupy a proper place in salsa and pico de gallo, in Korean tang (savory soups) and jjigae (stews), and in other places besides.
So this evening, I grudgingly conceded that Greek salad needs red onions. See below.
I made a creamy dill dressing and spooned that on:
Iceberg lettuce (just using up leftovers), Italian tomatoes, black olives, red onions, cucumbers, feta, green onions, and black pepper. The result was good, but way the hell too oniony. I should have sliced the onions super-thin with my mandolin, then chopped them into itty bitty bits, then used only half the amount of onion I had originally used. Ah, well. Live and learn.