Not on the Menu: Beets

Everyone knows your tastes change, grow and develop as you get older, but dirt will always taste like dirt.  And beets will also always taste like dirt, too.  My best friend and I once went out for lunch and she excitedly ordered a beet salad.  I’m not terrible, so I didn’t recoil or audibly shriek as she placed her order.  Though, I think I did when our food came and saw her plate which should’ve been called “PILE OF DICED BEETS.”  That was no salad.  I tried one, like most adults would agree too.  Dirt.  Dirt.  Dirt.  I want to like them.  They’re such a gorgeous, vibrant purple!

(Photo credit)

Perhaps they’ve got a bad subconscious connotation deep in my brain, due to my television habits.  When I think of beets I think of Dwight Schrute.  Of course he has a beet farm!  Jim Halpert once referred to Dwight’s future children with “beet-stained teeth” and for a person who detests beets (yes, I am aware of the strong language I’m throwing around here), that is one hilarious low blow.  Heading deeper into the layers of my brain, the second TV association I make would be the Simpsons episode my sister and I recorded on VHS and would watch/rewind countless times in an evening.  In this episode, “The Babysitter Bandit,” Penny Marshall voices the infamous Babysitter Bandit.  She’s hunting around for Bart, who’s hiding in the basement.  She stumbles onto cabinet and delightfully proclaims, “Oh!  Homemade pickled beets!”  Bart then drops a bowling ball on her head.  The beets did her in.  Beets will never do me in.

I’m just glad beets are no part of this Tartine cookbook.

Previously “Not on the Menu”:

Fruit Cake