Rosy cheeks

Hello foodies,

Parents often deceive young children to get them to eat healthy foods.  There are even cookbooks about it, such as Jessica Seinfeld's Deceptively Delicious, where vegetables are sneakily added to favourites.

I experienced something similar as a child.  Not in the sense that I was given something with veggies  surreptitiously added.  I was outright lied to.  I was told that a particular vegetable would have a particular effect.  I was young.  5-ish.  And some family was visiting from out of town - my mother's cousin and aunt.  One of the veg planned for dinner was beets, and 5 year old pre-Culinary Kira was not impressed.  I was vocal about my disdain, but Aunt Marjorie stopped me in my tracks. 

First, there was the inevitable question, "Have you ever tried them?"  Of course I hadn't.  I didn't eat things I didn't think I would like, a practice I largely maintained until my late teens.  No assurances that they were really very tasty, or that they were good for me, swayed me in my enmity.  I knew my mother wouldn't force me to eat them.  I was comfortable in the knowledge that there would be other, more acceptable things for me to eat.  It was not a choice between these weirdly reddish-purple balls and starvation.  Then Aunt Marge hit upon something that was sure to catch the attention of almost any little girl.  She told me that it was really a pity I wouldn't try beets, because they are what women eat to make their cheeks rosy.

Rosy cheeks?  Like the princesses in Disney movies?  I was a pale, freckly girl (who grew into a pale, freckly adult).  Rosy cheeks were something to be desired.  I was in!  The way beets were most often presented in my house were pickled.  Not a long, canned preservation.  A quick pickle.  Boiled, cooled and submersed in vinegar for a couple of hours.  Served chilled, in a cut crystal pickle dish, very pretty against the white tablecloth. 

So 5 year old me committed to trying them.  When the time came, sure that they would be gross, but determined to achieve the desired rosy cheeked result, I took a bite.  The cool acid of the vinegar immediately appealed.  Then there was that unique blend of sweet and earthy that is typical of beets.  And a firm texture.  It turns out, I was wrong (not for the first time) when I had thought they wouldn't be something I would like.

In the last couple of years, beets have enjoyed quite a renaissance.  you see them all the time in nicer restaurants.  A memorable experience at The Courtyard in Ottawa presented the beets as faceted jewels on the plate.  I have had beet salads with quinoa, goat cheese, blue cheese, pistachios, and assortment of other ingredients.  The beets, with their dramatic colour and wonderful flavour are always the star. 

However, to this day, pickled beets are my favourite preparation, and every time I have beets, I think of my Aunt Marge, long since passed away, who tricked me into liking them.

The Byward Market, awash with beets of every variety: