Carrot and Beet Salad

It may be cold and wet, but I still like a bit of salad from time to time. This robust winter salad is very satisfying, either at dinner next to something more substantial, or at lunch with perhaps a poached egg on top. It also makes a spectacular sandwich with a good wodge of avocado or maybe a little crumbled feta cheese. This week we ate it with a pea and potato frittata.

I adapted it from a recipe found at the delectable Chocolate & Zucchini. However, the original recipe was too garlicky and heavy for my taste, so I switched from nut oils to olive oil, and from vinegars to lemon juice, and tweaked the proportions of this and that. Now it is, to me, just right!

Carrot and Beet Salad - 2 medium carrots, peeled and coarsely grated - 1 pretty big or 2 medium beet(s), peeled and coarsely grated - ½ clove garlic, minced - 2 tbs extra virgin olive oil - the juice of a lemon - 1 tsp Dijon mustard - 8 to 10 stalks flat-leaf parsley, chopped - a good handful of sunflower seeds - salt, pepper Place the garlic, oils, lemon juice, mustard, salt and pepper into a small jar. Shake it up! Mix the grated carrot and beet in a large bowl. Toss through the parsley and then dress with the vinaigrette. Mix well to distribute the dressing. Sprinkle generously with sunflower seeds, then toss again. Serve. This salad keeps well in the fridge for a day or two. It's the sort of thing my husband and I eat for dinner one day, then lunch and dinner the next. Adapted from a recipe by Clotilde Dusoulier posted at chocolateandzucchini.com. Picture shows the salad in a simpler incarnation, made with coriander and no seeds. (Local: carrots, beets, garlic, olive oil, lemon, parsley. Not local: mustard, sunflower seeds, salt, pepper.)

Beetroot Relish

To my daughters:

Once upon a time, before my time or your time, my mother – your grandmother – lived with her two younger sisters in a little brick house at the end of a sandy track. Her daddy went out to work every day, and her mummy stayed home with the three little girls. Her mummy cooked and cleaned and washed and sewed. She shopped from the tradesmen who drove their vans to the other end of the track, or she walked to the local shops, three little girls hanging off the pram as its wheels bogged down in the sand. She made everything from scratch.

On Sundays, they rested. Nobody picked up a needle or turned on the oven, and the little girls kept their voices quiet. They ate cold meat and vegetables for lunch, to keep the Sabbath holy.

One day at the local shop, her mummy saw something new. It was beetroot in a can! "Wonderful!" she thought, "that's one less job." She bought the can, and smuggled it home in the bottom of the pram under the rest of the shopping. That Sunday in the kitchen, she opened the can, tipped the contents into the beet bowl, and served it without comment. No one noticed, so she gave up pickling beets and switched to canned beets instead.

Several years later, her husband happened to wander into the kitchen as they were preparing lunch. He saw the open can of beets on the table, and reeled with shock. "What's this?" he gasped, "why aren't you making your usual beetroot?".

And his youngest daughter looked at him, puzzled, and asked, "But how else does it come?".

Secret women's business, indeed.

Fifty years later, in honour of my grandmother, who died last month, and in honour of my grandfather, who has closed his eyes and is waiting to join her, I have rolled up my sleeves and turned my kitchen pink. Here is my recipe for beetroot relish – like everything I do, not how they did it, but faithful nonetheless.

Beetroot Relish - 1¼ kg beets, peeled and grated (I used a food processor) - 1½ cups apple cider vinegar - ½ cup balsamic vinegar - 250g brown sugar - 2 small red onions, finely chopped - ½ tsp salt - 2 oranges, zested and juiced (optional) Place the vinegars and sugar into a large saucepan and bring to the boil. Simmer, stirring, until the sugar has dissolved. Add the other ingredients and bring back to the boil, then simmer gently for 50 minutes, stirring from time to time, until syrupy. Pour into hot sterilized jars (I use the baby bottle sterilizer; Nigella Lawson suggests that running jars through the dishwasher is sufficient), and seal. Store in a cool dark place. Good with fetta or a crumbly cheddar, with a plate of mixed salads, or, if you're so inclined, with a bit of red meat. (Local: beetroot, red onion, orange, apple cider vinegar. Not local: balsamic vinegar, sugar, salt.)

Beetroot Soup

Most weeks, we get a few beets in our veggie box. I have romantic ideals of making beet pasta, but where I think I'll find the time I don't know. Most weeks, I save up my beets then make this fantastic soup.

The page of the recipe book is splattered with red; it looks like something out of a crime scene. But the soup is so simple that I don't think I need the book anymore.

This freezes well, but we eat it so quickly that I usually just place any leftovers in a jar in the fridge door, sloshing out a cupful for an entree at dinnertime, and a bowlful for lunch the next day.

Beetroot Soup - approximately 700g beets, scrubbed - 1 tsp Dijon mustard - 1 tbs balsamic vinegar - yogurt, to serve Place the beets in a saucepan of cold water, bring to the boil and boil for 1½ to 2 hours, depending on their size. Check them with a knife; they are cooked when they offer no resistance. When they are ready, use a slotted spoon to scoop them out. Save the cooking liquid. Remove the beet skins and any odd hairy bits. Puree in a food processor or blender, along with the mustard and vinegar. Add enough of the cooking liquid to make it a pleasing consistency. Serve with a swirl of plain yogurt, and pass the pepper grinder. Adapted from the indispensable How to Eat: Pleasures and Principles of Good Food by Nigella Lawson. (Local: beets, yogurt. Non-local: Dijon, balsamic vinegar.)