"We've got the beet(s)": pickled golden beets

Ragazzi, it seems that the world falls into two distinct camps in so many ways. The way we feel about beets is one of those: there are those, such as the Guyman, Sandra the artichoke queen, Annalena, and her friend Lucy (not his real name), who love them. Then there are those who recoil at the sight of them. But... within that camp of recoilers, there are... RECIDIVISTS. Ah yes, and therein probably lies a dissertation, or at least a Master's essay in nutrition. Shall the crazy woman elaborate?

In Annalena's experience, many people who hate beets, really don't. They hate the IDEA of beets, borne out of what they were forced to eat, as children, or even as adults. If all of us were still eating canned, "Harvard" beets (whatever Harvard had to do with them, we will never know), or the awful canned pickled beets of lore, we'd most of us hate them still. Annalena knows, from experience, however, that when confronted with beets cooked differently, things can change. The following is a word for word transcript of a conversation at Annalena's dinner table, with names changed to protect the innocent:

J "Annalena, these are good" (pointing his fork with a golden beet quarter impaled on it). What are they?"
A: beets
J No, they can't be beets, I hate beets.
A: they're beets
J No, really what are they
J's partner "they're beets J, and you'll eat them from now on."

When you give someone a beet that is well cooked, well prepared, it may not be love at first sight, but they will probably not hold up a silver cross and proclaim "Get thee behind me.." And if you have recalcitrant friends, there is no easier way to delude them into beet heaven, than with golden beets.

Truth to be told, golden beets do not taste as sweet as red ones do. Their advantages include NOT looking like beets, and, for those of us who are concerned about this kind of thing, not bleeding and staining things. So, if you wish to combine your beets with some other item and you are concerned that your beautiful white goat cheese will turn Pepto Bismol pink (which it won't, if you've tended to your red beets properly, but whatever), or that the potatoes in your potato salad will look like you bled on them, use the golden beets.

It must also be said that pickling beets is much easier than one would think. It is simply a matter of choosing a proper pickling liquid. This weekend past, Annalena was preparing some rather monstrous golden beets. The four of them weighed just shy of two pounds (in beet land a half pounder is a "medium sized beet"), and was wondering what to do with them. The pickling liquid came out of the need to use some things in the refrigerator. Now, many of you will not have the seville oranges and meyer lemon which Annalena used handy, so she has provided an alternative to you, sweet thing that she is.

First, let us deal with cooking the beets. We will have to be approximate here, because Annalena, far seeing that she is, cannot tell how big the roots you will have are. Remove any remnant of leaves from them, and give them a good soaking to remove any dirt (they ARE root vegetables, amici). Then put them in a non metal pan with about half an inch of water, cover it tightly with tin foil, and place the pan in a 350 degree oven, and come back after half an hour. Remove a corner of the foil, and test the largest one, with a knife. Pierce it. If it enters without too much resistance, your beets are ready. If you feel as if you are cutting through rock, replace the foil and continue to bake. Annalena's gang of four took 90 minutes to bake, so you can be in for a wait.

While this is happening, squeeze two seville oranges. You will recognize these in the market as the ugly oranges: the ones which look like they've collapsed. They are sometimes called sour oranges - because they are - or marmalade oranges - because they are - or Spanish oranges - which they sometimes are but usually aren't, and a meyer lemon. Mix these juices together.

Now, if you do not have these ingredients, you can make a reasonable facsimile by using two navel oranges, and one large lisbon lemon. Those you can find. Anywhere. Anytime. Then add two tablespoons of olive oil, a pinch of salt, mix it together, and taste. You will probably feel a need for sweetness, and indeed, some honey is called for. Whisk this in, a tablespoon at a time, until you have a liquid which actually tastes stronger than you want it to taste on your beets. You might also want to add a big spoon of mustard of some type. Annalena does

When your beets have baked/steamed to a point where you can pierce them, to the center, remove the pan from the oven, and let the beets cool , but just for long enough for you to handle them without burning yourself. You will need to slice them while they are warm. First, run them under a stream of tepid water, and rub the skins off. Usually, this happens easily, but if you have difficulty, use the back of a knife and scrape the stuff off.

Once you've done that, if the beets are large, slice them in half lengthwise, and then into half moons. If they are smaller, circles, or full moons are fine. Then, toss them into the liquid you've put together, stir everything together, and let this sit at room temperature until everything has cooled down.

Not all of the liquid will permeate the beets. In fact, most of it will not. And that's fine. When you store them in the fridge, pour the leftover liquid on top of them. Chances are, they will soak up some more of it, and whatever is left, is something you can use as a component of salad dressing on its own, or something to toss over steamed vegetables. It is really good.

Lucy, Sandra, this one is for you both.