On Beets

The peerless beet. Rotund without an ounce of fat. Loaded with color and minerals, little missionaries of iron and vitamin C, the colorists, the ruddy spades, the bassoons of the vegetable section, the cadence, the red ringed roots of power, drawing their goods efficiently, gracefully, patiently from the earth to our tables.

Yet I know people who shun them. Who have never bought one of those vivacious bunches with the roaring green tops still on, freshly dug, banded and brought to the market with bits of authentic dirt still clinging to the roots.

Or who meekly suppose that the soul of the beet might still, by some chance, be present in a can of anemic shoestring beets in the grocery section.

Or worse still, who maintain that they do not like beets at all! What is happening to this nation?!

I submit that it is not beets themselves with their endearing tummies which cannot seem to win favor, but the no-joke preparation of the fresh product which loses fans.

Since I am, at heart, a lazy person, I remember vividly harvesting two heaping contractor's wheelbarrows of beets from my first big garden, hosing them off in the yard to save my kitchen from the mud and magenta, boiling them properly, peeling them properly, slicing, pickling, canning them, and ending up bone tired with maybe twelve quarts of beauty for my efforts.

They won, however, with their magnificent,quick flavor, my forgiveness and a blue ribbon at the county fair.

Now, during the early edge of the cold season, when the snow geese are audibly organizing themselves and all the good-sized boys are renewing their skills with the splitting maul, when long stockings and closed shoes are beginning to look interesting again, I face my autumnal craving for borscht.

I purchase, thereupon, for the sake of good times, a sack of beets large enough to make pickles as well, and also sufficient for a round of the following recipe.

At this point I will state that I like this dish more than anyone else. Undaunted, even after being required to gradually, happily, consume the entire batch after its rejection by my lovely family, I propose, with high hopes, this wonderful, buttery vegetable course.

It is sweet and tart, a delightto behold, a nutritional dynamo as well as an assertion of independence from the everyday cook's vantage point.

Once the beets are precooked, a task done strategically by the working chef, a day in advance, the preparation is very simple. Remember of course, that, deprived of their roots and stems, beets bleed helplessly into the cooking medium rendering themselves pale and wan, flavorless and devoid of both energy and magnetism. Leaving 2--3" of the stem and the whole root intact while you boil or steam will solve this problem entirely and give you the best quality vegetable to use.

For four servings--or one long slow indulgence--of Beets and Apples, mix together in a greased casserole:

2 2/3 C. cooked beets, sliced

2-3 C. raw, chopped tart apples, unpeeled

1/3-1/2 C. thinly sliced onion

1 1/2 tsp. salt

1 Tbsp. sugar if desired

1-2 Tbsp. lemon juice if the apples are bland.

If you want an exceptional treat, stir all of this around with a generous grate of fresh nutmeg, which is worth the extra 30 seconds of preparation. Whole nutmeg, Isabella's inspiration, is also very inexpensive when purchased in bulk.

Dot it all with butter, cover and bake for about an hour, or until the apples are tender.

You will be happy now. You will be full of rich, ruby joy.