and the beet goes on

i remember when i was but a tot, when a perfect day involved my friend anna from down the road, our teddies, a picnic in my back garden, and orangina.  

look out for that owl, he will shoot you the side-eye and steal your popsicle when you’re not looking.

a few years later, the perfect day involved a sleeping bag, a video of the breakfast club, and some impulse body spray just to make you feel really classy.

later still, a dodged curfew, a beach, a boy you might have a crush on (or you might not.  you’re not quite sure yet, and that’s okay), and a bottle of boone’s strawberry hill.   

let’s face it, perfection comes in many forms; wears many faces.  each year, each decade, the perfect day sheds its skin, and undergoes a metamorphosis into something perhaps completely unlike before.  lou reed meets franz kafka.

mushrooms.  to me, perfection.

fast-forward a few decades, a few kids, and what, now, does the perfect day (or, evening) entail?  why, pajama pants, an uncorked bottle (or two) of red, and a fun cooking project with your partner in crime-fighting and cookery.  

the supermensch shares most of my food crushes, which makes cooking with her such a pleasure.  we both have a fascination with fennel, admire the elegance of the eggplant, and the beatific beauty of the beet.  (she crushes slightly less hard on alliteration, though, so let’s move on.)

autumn has hit hard here in the pacific northwest.  pretty much overnight, actually.  to the right of the frame is summer, to the left is autumn, muscling poor summer out of the way like a schoolyard bully.  

boom

though summer’s end always brings a pendulous and somewhat dramatic single tear to my eye, autumn also holds a warm place in my heart.  for, despite its dark mornings, blustery days, and soggy nights, it brings with it presents of culinary wonder: freshly sprung mushrooms with wet earth still clinging to their slender stalks, tiny brussels sprouts that make you feel like gulliver eating a cabbage, and my old favourite, the humble beetroot. 

when the supermensch shined her spatula signal into the sky, we knew that in some shape or form, we had a hot date in store with a bunch of beets.  SM found a recipe (in the still-adored “a change of appetite” by the terribly clever and entertaining diana henry) for beet and carrot fritters with dill yogurt sauce which awoke our appetites with rumbly roars.  time to turn up the volume on the lou reed.  to the chefmobile, supermensch!  we have a root vegetable to save!

beet and carrot fritters with dill and yogurt sauce (adapted from diana henry’s excellent “a change of appetite”)

fritters:

canola oil (diana suggests peanut oil, but the canola we had on hand did just fine)

1 small onion, finely chopped

2 cloves garlic, crushed

1 large russet potato

2 large carrots

2 large beets (diana apparently thinks that size DOES, in fact, matter)

2 eggs

salt & freshly ground pepper

sauce:
1 cup greek yogurt

2 cloves garlic, crushed

1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

1 tbsp chopped dill fronds, plus extra for garnish

heat ½ tbsp. canola oil in a skillet and gently sauté the onion until soft but not browned.  add garlic and cook a further 2 minutes.  remove from heat and transfer to a bowl.

shred the remaining vegetables (preferably with the aid of a food processor to save your poor joints).  use a clean dish towel (preferably red so the beet doesn’t stain it) to squeeze out excess moisture.  once fairly dry, add the shredded vegetables to the bowl with the onion.  add the eggs, season with salt and pepper, and mix well.

action shot!

mix together ingredients for the sauce.  the flavor will develop with a little time, so be sure to make it before you fry the fritters.

heat 1 tbsp of oil in the skillet, and spoon in the mixture in roughly 1/4 cup portions.  don’t overcrowd the pan, you want them to have enough room to form a nice crust.  cook over medium heat until the bottoms are brown and crispy, then flip and repeat.  once both sides have a good crust formed, turn down the heat to low and cook a further 4 or 5 minutes on each side to make sure they are cooked through.  repeat in batches, keeping the cooked fritters warm in a low oven, until all are done.

serve with the yogurt sauce, the remaining dill, perhaps some mushroom ragout (as you can never have too much of a good thing), a fat bottle of red, and a fabulous friend.

perfect.