Monday, October 31, 2005

An ode to beetroot...and Jamie Oliver

I am addicted now. Ever since the market at uni started selling bags of fresh beetroot, I've been eating tons of the stuff.

We had a couple of beets left over from my latest batch of borscht and I went off on a great web-search for interesting recipes, whereupon I discovered Jamie Oliver's website and this recipe for baked beetroot with garlic & balsamic vinegar. YUM! It was the best Sunday evening supper ever.

Mmmmmmm

I'm so disappointed that despite eating all this beetroot my wee has yet to turn pink.

6 comments:

ash said...

beetroot has always concerned me. Mainly because everyone eats it pickled, and pickled things are largely rank. including pickle.

but you do make it sound a bit more appitising...

Lorcan said...

If thee wears rose colored sunglasses thy wee and everything else will be pink... maybe even Labor may grow a wee bit pinkish again... though I miss the old days of red...

wishing thee wine and roses
and beetroot
lor

Lorcan said...

And dear old Ash... let us not forget that the smallest vessle at Trafagar was the dear old HMS Pickle, no kidding, and though, yes, it likely WAS rank, in its own tiny way it was also rakish, ah the days when I was little, rank and rakish...

Beetroot keeps thee young
lor

Contemplative Activist said...

Ah you see this is the problem with beetroot Ash.

Pickled beetroot is the vilest thing ever. The very thought of picked beetroot makes me retch.

However - it is a much neglected and rather yummy root vegetable. Slightly sweet and goes well with lemon juice or balsamic vinegar (but please NO PICKLING VINEGAR!) Even a non-vegetable eater like yourself might have appreciated a nice bit of roasted beetroot.

And borscht is really quite scrummy. Plus you get to walk around the kitchen, putting on a Russian accent saying, 'Tonight, vee are making borscht!'

Lorcan said...

Reminds me of a story... I used to wear a hammer and syckle lapel pin, before it was fashionable... There were these two lawyers who I used to share a slow elivator (lift) with each morning. They were involved in business law, and had put, well, all their money in the stock market. Each morning they would say to me, "come the revolution we will all eat borsht... " Well, back in the late 80s, I think it was, could have been early 90s... came the first big US stock market crash after a long boom. They were gray in the face on tuesday morning, they look down right terrified... no red baiting jokes... I let the ride go about half way then said... " a few more days on the stock market like yesterday and that borsht is going to taste pretty good, eh comrades?"
cheers
lor

Rach said...

I used "Borscht" as something beginning with B that you'd find in the supermarked this evening in a game - and won the game! (Your answer couldn't be the same was anyone else's or nul points)