I am digging on beets this week. Growing up I occasionally ate the pickled beets set out at salad bars, but I’m not sure that I’d eat a raw beet until this week. And I’d certainly never cut one up before. Why I’m digging this dusty vegetable:
- The Color. It pops! It’s chipper! It says ruddy and happy and outdoorsy with its bright hue. My new google obsession is to find the perfect lipstick or lipstain to match. Perhaps I’ll make my own. Just kidding! I ordered some from Etsy instead.
- The Crunch. It’s kind of like a carrot, or a parsnip, or a raw potato, but it’s also somehow softer and subtlety sweeter.
- The Combo with Goat Cheese. Goat cheese is one of my top 3 favorite cheeses, and how conveniently and tastefully it pairs with chevrie! I enjoyed a beet salad at Rustico last weekend, and am hankering to make my own Beet and Goat Cheese Arugula Salad.
- The Stain. Seeing my fingers and lips this ruddy hue throws me back to being a kid, suckling on purple popsicles or red slushies, drinking neon orange Kool-aid and spastic blue pixie stix. It’s so bright! I’m smiling even as I type.
- The Beatnik. I was looking up some literature on beets and stumbled across a poem written about beets. I mean, how many people write poems about asparagus or acorn squash or oranges? This is the good stuff. For your reading pleasure:
the blood red ukranians have food
to match their humanity and its life
blood food no reason for those two
vowels not to sound the same like
the rock and roll difference thats
between borscht and beatles black sea
and england is famous for its
music spelled wrong not song
just secretly edible roots
with two ee beatnik
– Zach Houston