The young man behind the sandwhich-making counter (when did they start employing 12 to 13-year-olds — don't we have workplace laws?) began metaphorically tapping his foot while he was waiting for an answer and looking at the ceiling.
I took the plunge. "Yes, load it up, thanks."
Growing up on the farm, beetroot was a common part of our summer salads. Sort of like shredded carrot and lettuce.
I used to think beetroot was grown in a tin. Always came out of a small round tin with neat round pieces that just seemed to be made specially for the container.
And beetroot was like corn and radishes; easy to grow.
I loved growing radishes on the farm because they survived with minimum care (I was an unreliable vegetable gardener) and grew quickly. It was just a pity that my brothers didn't seem to enjoy eating them.
I was an opportunistic gardener and the original regenerative type, capturing waste water which used to run into the calf paddock and grow weeds for the ambivalent calves.
I had figured how to re-route the kitchen and bath waste into my little patch, downslope of the house, and sunk several five gallon drums into the ground to store up the good stuff.
Never mind the detergents, soaps and whatever other bits and pieces floated down the drain — it grew great corn and radishes.
My experience with carrots was not quite so good — I wrote them off as a waste of time as they seemed to require a reliable water supply and the few that made it to maturity looked more like disfigured dolls, with multiple legs, and more likely candidates for the local paper's weird vegetables column.
But getting back to the beetroot, I am reliably informed by Google that the vegetable — referred to as a ‘beet’ in the United States — is a good source of fibre, folate and vitamin C.
So, I guess it's nice to see this forgotten vegetable return to the menu and become an "extra".
But good old Google warns that over consumption of beetroot can darken your stools.
Last time I looked my chairs hadn't changed colour.
31°C