Where have beets been all my life?

My mom will smile when she reads this, which she won't. But if she did read it, she would smile an ironic smile. She was always trying to push beets on us. "Get off your beet pedestal", I would think. Jeez, lady. Ease up on the beets.

But, alas. Beets are now at the center of my very small and predictable universe. Have you had a beet lately? Roasted it in your oven in a foil pouch with a little olive oil? Holy shit. They are consistently (3 nights in a row) blowing my g.d. mind.

I'll be sitting there next to Joren. We'll be eating our salads, loaded with beets, silently. Except for the sound of me... "Aren't these beets delicious?" "Seriously, I could make myself sick eating so many." "Aren't these beets delicious?" "And look at the color."

It's a fascinating one way (except for Joren nodding) conversation. You should come for dinner sometime and join in on either the praising of beets or just the nodding. I'll make beets.