Give beets a chance.
Dec. 17th, 2004 11:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
saint_monkeySo. Have I ever told you that I used to be indifferent to beets? I did. Nasty vegetables that always taste like something artificial. Like that cranberry sauce that has the shape of the can.
They must be related. Anyhow, just to illustrate, one time beets came over cause he knew my old roommate Dave Bell.
"Zig" Beets said, trying to wake me up. I worked at night then, and when beets would come over, I usually was asleep, and wanted to stay that way. Indeed, I've worked at night for probably 6 of the last 20 years. Not anymore. Now I work in the daytime. I thought it would be less depressing than it actually is. In fact, I'm at work right now. I've fucked up so much at work lately, that them paying me to goof off is probably increasing my productivity.
"Zig." Beets said, refusing to be deterred. (My nickname at the time was "Zig" partly because no-one could figure out how to say "Steffan" properly, tending to put the accent on the last "a," "Steff-On," But mostly because no one bothered to ask, and just shortened my last name, "Ziegler" to "Zig." They can be forgiven, because at that time, I ran around with my last name pinned to my sleeve... Actually pinned on to my chest. I'm sure you get the idea. Not because I was vain, no! But because the military likes all it's property properly labeled, and at the time, I was their indentured servant.)
"Zig!" Beets said. "Wake up! Let's go up to Garden of the Gods, drink beer, and throw the bottles at tourists." That's just the kind of thing that Beets was into at the time. I didn't drink, so beets would end up drinking for both of us. Not that he minded. Beets could drink quite a bit. Much more than related veggies like say, carrots or parsnips. In any case, we never ended up where beets promised we would. One afternoon, beets told me that we would go to Denver, and instead we drove around town in his El Camino (actually it was a precursor to the El Camino, I can't remember what the make of the car was called, but it was essentially a 66 Dodge Dart with a truck bed, very bizarre,) looking for couches people had put out with the trash. When we found one, we'd load it up, and drive around the neighborhood till we found another. Then we'd unload the one, and take the other back to the original couch location. Then we'd sit and laugh about how the owner of the couches would go out to take out the trash and think. "I know I left a couch out here, but I'm certain it was a different couch.")
Anyhow, although we had a lot of random fun, Beets was more trouble than he was worth. He'd get depressed and threaten suicide all the time. Beets never said "I'm Sorry" and he never said "You're right." And beets had a really bad habit of hanging around the roller skating rink in an attempt to seduce 16 year old high school girls. Not proper behaviour for a vegetable. We all trusted beets when we were young, and we all had our hearts broken.
Anyhow, as I've grown older, I've found that beets has mellowed a lot. Many of his shortcomings stemmed from a lack of attention, and as he matured, beets began to deal with his issues. Surprisingly a diagnosis of Vegetable Deficit Disorder, and a prescription for Ritalin worked wonders on Beets, and now he's positively a different root, with very few negative qualities.
A lot of the negative properties still associated with beets can be eliminated with proper preparation. So for your edification, a method of preparing beets that does them a great service:
First, preheat your oven to about 450 degrees F. (205 degrees C. or gas mark 6.) peel and cut three or four beets into smallish 1 to 1/2 inch dice.
Take a good foot and a half of aluminum foil, and place this in an oven-proof pan. If you are afraid of the properties of aluminum, parchment paper works nicely, but it may burn if you don't eyeball it carefully.
Put the sliced beets into the foil, and make a packet. Into the packet pour 1 to 2 Tablespoons of balsamic vinegar, 2 or 3 teaspoons of red wine vinegar. Optionally, I sometimes add a Tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce and also optionally, a tablespoon of a nice sherry if you are afraid of all the vinegar. You could put some peeled and quartered shallots or garlic cloves in there, or sprigs of fresh herb like oregano or rosemary, but it isn't at all necessary, and I tend to stay pretty minimalist and stick with just the beets and vinegar. You do not need to add salt or pepper. Close the packet and put the pan into the oven. The packet must be carefully made to not allow the liquid to evaporate.
Roast these, for at the very minimum, 40 minutes, or until fork tender.
When the beets are done, pour the roasting liquid into a bowl, and mix with either sour cream or yogurt. This has two advantages, 1) it tastes great poured over the beets, on mashed potatoes, or the sauteed beet greens. 2) It becomes a vivid shade of fuschia that is pretty much unknown in foodstuffs without some serious food coloring, and has a nice shocking effect on the plate.
These beets will be quite vinegary, but the natural sweet nearly disgusting waxiness of beets is mellowed considerably and compliments the strong vinegar flavor perfectly. Roasting them gives them a much better texture, and really all they lack to be perfect is something to take the edge off, and the sour cream or yogurt in the sauce does this well.
I am not often a consumer of meat, and even less a consumer of beef, but this recipe, and its resulting roasting liquid, go extremely well with a good steak and potatoes. In these instances, you might even swap the yogurt or cream cheese with an exceptional Bleu Cheese (Might I recommend Point Reyes Blue Cheese?)
In any case, I hope you do try the recipe, and find beets to be a better vegetable than its checkered past paints it.
(Recipe stolen and altered from the fantastically incomparable Jamie Oliver, who made a much more high-octane version to compliment a beef carpaccio.)
They must be related. Anyhow, just to illustrate, one time beets came over cause he knew my old roommate Dave Bell.
"Zig" Beets said, trying to wake me up. I worked at night then, and when beets would come over, I usually was asleep, and wanted to stay that way. Indeed, I've worked at night for probably 6 of the last 20 years. Not anymore. Now I work in the daytime. I thought it would be less depressing than it actually is. In fact, I'm at work right now. I've fucked up so much at work lately, that them paying me to goof off is probably increasing my productivity.
"Zig." Beets said, refusing to be deterred. (My nickname at the time was "Zig" partly because no-one could figure out how to say "Steffan" properly, tending to put the accent on the last "a," "Steff-On," But mostly because no one bothered to ask, and just shortened my last name, "Ziegler" to "Zig." They can be forgiven, because at that time, I ran around with my last name pinned to my sleeve... Actually pinned on to my chest. I'm sure you get the idea. Not because I was vain, no! But because the military likes all it's property properly labeled, and at the time, I was their indentured servant.)
"Zig!" Beets said. "Wake up! Let's go up to Garden of the Gods, drink beer, and throw the bottles at tourists." That's just the kind of thing that Beets was into at the time. I didn't drink, so beets would end up drinking for both of us. Not that he minded. Beets could drink quite a bit. Much more than related veggies like say, carrots or parsnips. In any case, we never ended up where beets promised we would. One afternoon, beets told me that we would go to Denver, and instead we drove around town in his El Camino (actually it was a precursor to the El Camino, I can't remember what the make of the car was called, but it was essentially a 66 Dodge Dart with a truck bed, very bizarre,) looking for couches people had put out with the trash. When we found one, we'd load it up, and drive around the neighborhood till we found another. Then we'd unload the one, and take the other back to the original couch location. Then we'd sit and laugh about how the owner of the couches would go out to take out the trash and think. "I know I left a couch out here, but I'm certain it was a different couch.")
Anyhow, although we had a lot of random fun, Beets was more trouble than he was worth. He'd get depressed and threaten suicide all the time. Beets never said "I'm Sorry" and he never said "You're right." And beets had a really bad habit of hanging around the roller skating rink in an attempt to seduce 16 year old high school girls. Not proper behaviour for a vegetable. We all trusted beets when we were young, and we all had our hearts broken.
Anyhow, as I've grown older, I've found that beets has mellowed a lot. Many of his shortcomings stemmed from a lack of attention, and as he matured, beets began to deal with his issues. Surprisingly a diagnosis of Vegetable Deficit Disorder, and a prescription for Ritalin worked wonders on Beets, and now he's positively a different root, with very few negative qualities.
A lot of the negative properties still associated with beets can be eliminated with proper preparation. So for your edification, a method of preparing beets that does them a great service:
First, preheat your oven to about 450 degrees F. (205 degrees C. or gas mark 6.) peel and cut three or four beets into smallish 1 to 1/2 inch dice.
Take a good foot and a half of aluminum foil, and place this in an oven-proof pan. If you are afraid of the properties of aluminum, parchment paper works nicely, but it may burn if you don't eyeball it carefully.
Put the sliced beets into the foil, and make a packet. Into the packet pour 1 to 2 Tablespoons of balsamic vinegar, 2 or 3 teaspoons of red wine vinegar. Optionally, I sometimes add a Tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce and also optionally, a tablespoon of a nice sherry if you are afraid of all the vinegar. You could put some peeled and quartered shallots or garlic cloves in there, or sprigs of fresh herb like oregano or rosemary, but it isn't at all necessary, and I tend to stay pretty minimalist and stick with just the beets and vinegar. You do not need to add salt or pepper. Close the packet and put the pan into the oven. The packet must be carefully made to not allow the liquid to evaporate.
Roast these, for at the very minimum, 40 minutes, or until fork tender.
When the beets are done, pour the roasting liquid into a bowl, and mix with either sour cream or yogurt. This has two advantages, 1) it tastes great poured over the beets, on mashed potatoes, or the sauteed beet greens. 2) It becomes a vivid shade of fuschia that is pretty much unknown in foodstuffs without some serious food coloring, and has a nice shocking effect on the plate.
These beets will be quite vinegary, but the natural sweet nearly disgusting waxiness of beets is mellowed considerably and compliments the strong vinegar flavor perfectly. Roasting them gives them a much better texture, and really all they lack to be perfect is something to take the edge off, and the sour cream or yogurt in the sauce does this well.
I am not often a consumer of meat, and even less a consumer of beef, but this recipe, and its resulting roasting liquid, go extremely well with a good steak and potatoes. In these instances, you might even swap the yogurt or cream cheese with an exceptional Bleu Cheese (Might I recommend Point Reyes Blue Cheese?)
In any case, I hope you do try the recipe, and find beets to be a better vegetable than its checkered past paints it.
(Recipe stolen and altered from the fantastically incomparable Jamie Oliver, who made a much more high-octane version to compliment a beef carpaccio.)
