Linda’s Roasted Beets

My friend Linda is one-in-a-million, the kind of friend to whom you can cry or complain, and who can have you in fits of laughter minutes later. She’s one of those rare people who infuses everyone around her with energy and enthusiasm for life, because her effervescence is just that contagious.

Linda and I worked together at a high school in the west suburbs of Chicago, where she’s a guidance counselor. I was an English teacher at the time, and her daughter Meredith was one of my students, which is how we became better acquainted.

She was my savior on stressful days, and her office was never short on fruit leather. Both a bit on the health nut side of things, we made countless afternoon trips to Whole Foods Market just to browse. We shared a passionate love of tapas, the Spanish cuisine which means “little plates,” and had many wonderful meals – and pitchers of Sangria – at a renowned local tapas restaurant. Two years ago, on her birthday, I made her a regal two-tiered pink-and-brown diva-esque birthday cake, and we made her wear a flashy tiara and a feather boa, which she did with aplomb (see photo below). I miss her greatly.

Linda’s kitchen was always one of my favorite places to be. And oh, she’s a stellar cook. I ate many fabulous dinners at her table. But what I think of most often is her roasted beets.

I know, it doesn’t sound like much, does it? Roasted beets? Just trust me. You’ve been reading my blog long enough to have some trust, right? Even if this is yet another plea for vegetables?

Linda raved about her discovery of roasted beets for months before I had a chance to try them, so the  anticipation was pretty high. I remember her pulling them from the oven and slitting open the foil packet with a knife, letting the sweet aroma escape. They were everything she had said they would be.

It seems almost ludicrous that beets can become something almost exotic, but there you are. I can eat them like candy (but I’m like that with a lot of veggies, in case you haven’t noticed). It’s the marinade that does it – honey and balsamic vinegar and seasonings – and then they roast in their own steam in a hot oven and become fork-tender.

Canned beets, begone. We have no more need of you.

When I finally made them myself, I was surprised to find that beets are incredibly easy to peel. I was expecting to fight with the skins the way you have to with the fibrous skin of jicama. But nope, the outer layer slipped off easily.

Serve roasted beets warm from the oven, chilled on a salad, or as part of a relish platter with olives and pickles – if they make it that far.

Linda’s Roasted Beets

6-8 medium-size beets (preferably freshly picked), peeled and cut into wedges
1 shallot, minced
1-2 tablespoons each of honey, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil, mixed together
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Peel and cut the beets, and place in the center of a large sheet of aluminum foil. Drizzle with the honey/vinegar/oil mixture, and sprinkle with shallot, salt and pepper. Seal the foil closed by lifting the sides and crimping together at the top to make a pouch – make sure there are no openings. Bake 30 minutes, then slit the pouch open, and continue baking until tender, another 15-30 minutes.