I’ve eaten beets for the first time in thirty years. When I was three and in nursery school — we had a hot lunch and snacks daily. It seemed, more often than not, we had beets for lunch. They were red and nasty. I didn’t like them, their smell, their look, and I banned them from my diet.

So, there I was browsing the produce section at Whole Foods and Adam suggests we try some beets. He’s always liked them, he said, why not try them. I looked at him and said . . . beets, but I haven’t eaten those in thirty years.

He countered — you eat anything, raw fish, caviar, snails, and any number of things most people would turn their nose up at . . . so I bought them.

Beets are not the cook’s friend. They take forever to cook, stain everything worse than grape juice, and frankly don’t taste that good. They have a certain earthy flavor, I don’t think I’ll ever grow to appreciate.

A week later, I tried them again, with dried cherries and cranberries. The berries were good — my kitchen smelled like roasted beets — bad.

It was an experiment, and I think I’ll leave the beets alone. Adam will have to get his beet fix somewhere else. I’m going to cook my current favorite until we’re tired of that — turnips.

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