root to leaf cooking, part 1: beets

For an impulse buyer such as myself, the farmer's market can be a dangerous place. I can go with the most frugal intentions, but I'll inevitably get lost in the lush bunches of basil or the candy-red radishes or buckets of golden peppers or whatever else looks way more interesting than the kale I intended to buy. I'll try to be polite on the subway ride home by putting my purchases on my lap, but they'll just spill over into the seats beside me. It's the messy spontaneity of these trips that make shopping locally and seasonally (when that option is available) so beautiful. You can plan all you want, but your dinner is really at the mercy of the market.

This past Saturday I went to the market for apples, but before I could leave I was practically bombarded by the most stunning rainbow carrots, deep wine-red beets, chioggia beets, swiss chard, rainbow chard, mustard greens, red kale, Tuscan kale...all for a mix-and-match 2 for $6 deal. The beets, for one, were HUGE (I got a bunch of three and each one was at least worth two "normal" sized ones) and the greens were crisp, unmarred and just as striking as their more popular root ends.  It was almost too much for me to handle. True, I realized deep into my (lengthy) decision-making process that this "deal" was only saving me 50 cents,  but by that time it was too late: I was already dizzy with ecstasy, declaring my love of vegetables to whomever would hear me. (Literally - I yelled "I LOVE VEGETABLES" in the market. I have also been known to equate "cooking vegetables" with a "wild night" and once said that "my prospects of a perfect Saturday were dampened by the idea of a party." But I digress.)

The potential problem in all this initial excitement is that most of the time I'm cooking for only one person, one time a day, and I never make it through the week without being enticed by a number of completely different recipes or experiments that require yet another trek to the market and before I know it, the greens on my radishes have wilted or my once sprightly bunch of cilantro has turned sad and lifeless.

So when I brought these beets home, I promised to do them justice, from root to leaf.

This isn't so much a recipe as it is an exercise. It's a shining example of how cooking in its purest form, in techniques like roasting, braising and seasoning very well, is empowering to both ingredient and cook. You don't have to have prior experience with beet greens to make something delicious out of them. Similar to their cousins Chard and Collard, beet greens are earthy, a little bitter and faintly reminiscent of the beets themselves. They respond well to smoky pork, a lot of salt and a long, hot cook in a vinegary braising liquid. The stems, tougher and more fibrous, like to get a head start on the leaves. When treated this way, they will thank you profusely for letting them reach their highest potential.

As for the beets, they're simply roasted (technically, braised) in the oven in red wine vinegar, olive oil and plenty of salt, then they bathe overnight in the resulting liquid - a punchy dressing of vinegar and salt and beet juice, all agents that make beets taste as beet-y as possible. Do let them sit overnight; the reward for your patience is something dramatic but simple, and miles better than so many restaurant beet salads out there. I left them plain and cut into jewel-shaped wedges for easy snacking, but they also play well with walnuts and goat cheese. You could even throw them into the braised greens and I'm sure no one would complain. I personally liked the idea of getting two completely different sides, one hot, one cold, both delicious and bountiful, from one vegetable, and so kept them separate. But do as you please.



Marinated Beets:
3 very large or 6 medium beets
Kosher salt
1/2 cup olive oil
1/2 to 2/3 cup red wine or apple cider vinegar
Freshly cracked black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Wash the beets as well as you can, then trim off any remaining root or stem ends. If the beets are especially large, as mine were, cut them in halves or quarters - this will make peeling a bit more difficult, but they'll cook more quickly and evenly. Place the beets in a large baking dish and toss with 1 teaspoon of salt and 1/4 cup of olive oil. Add 1/4 cup red wine vinegar and 1/4 cup more olive oil and (carefully! lest you stain your clothes forever) toss the beets once more so that everything is evenly seasoned. Cover the baking dish very tightly with two layers of foil so that the moisture will be locked in during cooking. Place the beets in the oven and bake until a knife, fork or cake tester can easily go in and out with no resistance, about 1 1/2 hours (but note that the time will vary depending on the size of your beets). Peel back a corner of the foil to let cool, about 1 hour.

Once the beets are cool enough to handle, put on some disposable kitchen gloves, take a paper towel and rub the beets over a bowl - the outer skin should come right off. Remove the beets to a cutting board and cut them into 1-inch-wide wedges, and the wedges into 1-inch pieces. The braising liquid will become the marinade and vinaigrette for the beets, but will be very sweet at this point from the beet juices. Add salt, pepper and 1/4 to 1/3 cup more vinegar. The dressing should be sweet, tart and just on the salty side. Add the beets back to the baking dish, toss, cover and refrigerate for at least 4 hours or preferably overnight. Store in the refrigerator in an airtight container for up to 1 week.



Braised Beet Greens with Bacon:
Stems and leaves from 3 large or 6 medium beets
5 strips bacon, cut into 1/2-inch strips
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 shallot, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, smashed
Pinch red pepper flakes
Kosher salt
1/3 cup apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon honey

Wash the stems and leaves thoroughly in cool water, drain and shake off any excess water. Separate all stems from the leaves and slice the stems into 1-inch pieces. Roll the leaves up and slice them into 1/2-inch-wide ribbons. You should have about 3 cups of stems and 3 cups of leaves.

Place the bacon in a large, high-sided saute pan. Turn on the heat to low and let some of the bacon fat render out, about 3 minutes. Turn up the heat to medium and continue to let the bacon cook in its fat, stirring occasionally, until it just begins to crisp. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon to a plate lined with a paper towel.

Add the olive oil to the pan, add the shallots and garlic and let them sweat for about 2 minutes. Add the stems, red pepper flakes and a healthy pinch of salt and cook, stirring occasionally, until the stems have begun to break down but are not yet tender, about 10 minutes. Taste for seasoning before going further - if under-seasoned, the stems will taste bitter, but if seasoned properly, it'll already begin to taste delicious. Add the leaves, cooked bacon, apple cider vinegar, 2 cups of water and another healthy pinch of salt. Stir, bring to a boil, lower to a simmer and cover the pan. Let the greens simmer until the leaves and stems are both tender and flavorful, about 20 minutes. Adjust the seasoning if necessary.

At this point, the greens will be done but there will be a lot of cooking liquid left in the pan. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the greens, shallots, garlic and bacon to a bowl. Turn the heat up to high and reduce the cooking liquid until only a thin layer (about 1/2 cup) is left, about 10 minutes. Stir in the honey, taste for seasoning (it should be a nice balance between tart, sweet and salty [notice a pattern here?]) and add everything back in. Give everything a final stir and taste for seasoning. Should they exist, leftovers can be stored in the fridge in an airtight container for up to 1 week.