Archive for beets

i eat beets alone

Posted in delicious places, delicious stories, vague recipes with tags on February 7, 2009 by thatwasdelicious

in my apartment.

i love eating beets alone in my apartment because i love being alone in my apartment. the way i eat beets does not need or admit the presence of any other person.  i buy six of them at a time from the market. at home i put them on my narrow wooden counter and chop off the tops. they get dust all over the kitchen, the galley of the little boat-stranded-on-a-roof that is my apartment.

then i plop the hard dusty fist-sized vegetables in my biggest pot with some water and turn on the stove. it hisses and i light a match and fwoom! a blue flame tickles the bottom of the pot. the stove is rattly and tiny and white enameled, and as my apartment is very small, the stove is in my living room. i love this about my stove. i can drink my mate and read a book at my table, and reach over to turn off the next batch of boiling water.

once the beets are on the stove i pay absolutely no attention to the pot or how long i boil them. i sometimes fall asleep while the beets are boiling. then i wake up and remember to stick a fork in them. they are usually soft by then, and the water is bright magenta. i love this color. i love pouring magenta water down my sink. i am always tempted to drink it or make some strange dish with it but as of yet have not thought of what would be a good way to use beet water.

and then they have to cool. and then i peel them. i peel them by grabbing them and sort of squeezing them out of their dull slippery skins. i massage the warm beets, and the skin slides off in my hands. and i am left with a hot heavy slimy handful, a plateful of brilliant purple heart.

and then i cut them up in the bowl and by now i am usually very hungry and i pour olive oil and balsamic vinegar on them and lots of salt. and i eat them standing up right there. sometimes with my hands. usually in my underwear.

this dish is made for nobody but me. and i eat the beets like a warrior eating the heart of an enemy, or maybe of her dearest friend.

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