As I prepare to leave you for a month (my last post until after Labor Day will be on Friday), I realize I have shared very little of this summer's garden. I've spent so many back-breaking hours weeding it, and almost as much time picking off the great variety of insect predators that seem to be assigned to each tender vegetable and herb, that I haven't had much occasion to just wander through with my camera. It's bigger and more bodacious than ever. My favorite thing is to take friends on a smelling tour: lovage, anise hyssop, four kinds of mint, wild bergamot, sage, lavender, roses, chamomile, lemon verbena...it massages the senses. But wait. That might be my second favorite. Because what I like best is eating our bounty straight from the ground, still cool from the earth and vibrating with sunshine. And doing things to it first in my kitchen.
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My passionate love of beets dates back to my early childhood. I can remember staring delightedly into the toilet as a lovely pink-tinged rinse circled the bowl. Their gorgeous color is a way of signaling how rich they are in minerals and antioxidants. (Beet juice, incidentally, makes a wonderful dye. Stay tuned for the transformation of my new white linen caftan!) The beets we know and eat are descended from the sea beet, Beta vulgaris subsp. maritima, which is native to the coasts of Europe, North Africa and southern Asia. Also known as wild spinach, it's the common ancestor of beetroot, sugar beet and Swiss chard.In my desire to help you squeeze the maximum out of your winter store of root vegetables, I can't forget to mention these wine-colored jewels. We don't eat them much in our house because G is not fond of them—something which is apparently rather common among men. I wonder why? He thinks they taste of dirt, which of course they do, but isn't that the whole point? I love them in all their guises—raw, steamed, roasted and pickled—and will often indulge when the cat's away.
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