Monday, November 09, 2009

We Got the Beets!

You might think, by that title, that this might be a little send-up in tribute to the mad cooking skillz of the lads at Beetses. And while I do respect their awesomeness in exploring recipes and their love of vibrant colored vegetables, this one actually goes out to the 'Rents -- My Wonderful Parents.


This was dinner tonight: roasted beets (golden and deep red) tossed with olive oil, salt, pepper, dried thyme, and a smidgen of dried orange peel; and beet greens (or, rather, reds) sautéed with garlic, salt, pepper, and balsamic vinegar.

Simple stuff made with jolly nice beets from two of my favorite farmers at Local Roots (the Spelt Baker and the German Farmer -- or, as the Renaissance Man has dubbed him, the OEFFA Male). Wholesome, nutritious, flavorful -- no surprise there, right?

Well, if you're one or the other of My Wonderful Parents and you're reading this -- and I know you are -- either your jaw has hit the floor or you're laughing. Because while the Chef Mother loves her some beet roots and My Dear Papa gets all excited about the fresh greens, they both know that I'm nowhere near that kind of beet-loving fan.

Not at all.

Either of them would be more than happy to tell you, if I were to turn the keyboard over to them (and while I might be crazy, I'm not so far gone as to do that), that I never liked beets, I always turned my nose up at them, and Lord Have Mercy Who Would Have EVER Thought! that I would eat them now.

Yeah, yeah, like I haven't heard that one before. (Eggplant. Peas. Brussels sprouts. Yadda yadda.)

And while I still wouldn't eat beets every night of the week, I'm learning to like them. A little here, a little several weeks later... I'm learning.

The catch is, these beets are local. They're fresh. They're real. They're grown by people I know and trust. Heck, I spent an hour Sunday wandering around the fields where some of these beets originated.

Yeah, I ate them. And I liked them.

And really, you can't beet that.

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