This is one of the most beautiful named vegetables I know. It has elegance and aplomb usually reserved for fruit. And the colour combination is, in my opinion, sublime. It’s also pretty tasty, which is a relief as we have loads of it, thanks to our recent venture into ‘the veg box’.
Now I am sure some of you will completely dismiss the idea, whilst others, lucky enough to live in or near the countryside will wonder what all the fuss is about. Both valid stances, neither of which I have any intention of discussing or dismissing. But for us, surrounded by the dirt and grime of city life, a little glimmer of well looked after food going into our bodies feels like a pretty good counterbalance to this.
Hence the veg box.
We could, of course, grow our own. But we have to be honest with ourselves, and right now, this just wouldn’t happen. Instead, it would go on the ever increasing list of things we’ve started but not as yet, managed to complete. Accompanying that, would be another notch on the guiltometre.
We could source a local-ish grower and drive there every week. But that is petrol, time, and expense that we just don’t have. So instead, we have opted for the veg box which is delivered, as part of a job lot, to the wee boys kindergarten, weekly. Incorporated into this new venture, we have challenged ourselves to cooking with everything that comes our way, without opting out and waiting until it has gone past it’s best, before putting it into the compost bin.
Within our box this week we had, what I thought was, celeriac.
I have never cooked celeriac. I have only seen respectable people discuss it, some rather lovely chefs cook with it, and some often pompous people, eat it. So, my experience of celeriac has been gleaned through a screen. Imagine my surprise therefore, when today, having decided that one of the knobbly things in our box was celeriac, I got out said vegetable to peel and prepare for cooking and mashing, only to find it was beetroot!
And momentarily, my heart sank, as I realised another day would go by without me experiencing celeriac in person. Put into perspective though, I could always nip out and buy some, so let’s swiftly move on.
I have also, without too much distress, managed to defrost the fridge freezer today. Probably not a moment too soon, as the ice from the back was beginning to greet me when I opened the door and envelop various items on it’s way – I kid you not.
So I am now feeling pretty self righteously smug, and only slightly concerned, that the wee boy thinks we have bought a new fridge.