Beets Me

Beets, those humble root vegetables, come in a lot of different shapes and colors. There are red beets and white beets, golden beets and rainbow beets, candycane beets and baby beets, and this would all be very Seussian were it not for the existence of an heirloom variety called "Bull's Blood," which is definitely something I want to serve at my next ritual sacrifice.

Then there are what I like to call "Monster Beets."

For size comparison, allow me to present my chef's knife, which from tip to tail measures 12". It took me two hours to roast this bad boy, during which time I dashed despairingly from my room to the oven, which I suspect of deliberately wafting aromas in the direction of my chambers. It took all my willpower--and a particularly thrilling novel--to keep me from gazing forlornly through the smudged oven door for all two hours. The wildest, most counter-intuitive thing about this beet is that it tasted better than the other little beets I bought at the market. My only regret is that peeling it didn't give me the opportunity to channel Lady Macbeth, as peeling its bloody little cousins does.

Although beets are basically candy, they are candy with nutritional benefits far exceeding lollipops, especially because it is awkward to incorporate lollipops into cake, whereas beets do quite nicely. What other dessert has such a laundry list of antioxidants and nutrients? Magnesium, potassium, vitamin C, betaine--and it might even lower resting blood pressure and protect against liver disease. Beet lobbysists of America, I will gladly advertise for you, just give me free samples.

I chose to enjoy this particular beet in large slices, sort of like a reconstructed beet salad, cross-sectioned in a circle the size of my fist. I topped it with slivers of an exotic goat cheese that was wrapped in grape leaves, parsley sprigs, and some ginger-pickled blueberries miraculously left over from my summer blueberry obsession.


But monster beets deserve monster endings, so I turned to Nigel Slater's lovely paean to a vegetable patch, Tender. It's a beauty of a book, organized by vegetable and including everything from evocative flavor pairings to growing advice. There are both specific recipes, with measurements and instructions, and suggestions for cooking that leave so much up to the imagination.

Plus, he is very funny, both brutally British and consequently brutally honest. In his estimation, it is Murphy's Law that beets are "bloody soul mates" to virginal goat cheese; roasted beets are "ready when you can pierce them through the heart with a skewer. As you might a vampire." After a long list of delightful preparations, he notes: "I once made a beet quiche. As it came from the oven, it looked like a huge, round bruise."

England loves Nigel so much they made a movie about him starring Freddie Highmore; it is called Toast and I highly recommend it. Chances are it will make you hungry. You have been warned.


I've been dreaming about making this cake ever since I first opened the book, but I ordinarily eat my beets like apples, so there were never any lying around. The family for whom I babysit, however, absconded to Disneyland last week and left me with their CSA basket, meaning that I had both a monster beet and a bundle of baby beets to get me through the week.

So you know what they always say. When life hands you beets, make cake.

Chocolate-Beet Cake
adapted from Tender, by Nigel Slater

Nigel says this is "a seductive cake, deeply moist and tempting," which is kind of funny because the words chocolate beet cake do not evoke romance for me in the slightest. In fact I think of beefcake, as in, "Check out the arms on that stud; sir is a beefcake." There is probably a reason I never go on dates.

What this cake is: deep chocolate, not too sweet, with a perfect texture. Suggested accompaniments, all of which I tried: crême fraiche stirred with poppyseeds (and scant honey, if you like, but too much sweetness will overpower the cake and render it bitter), shaved chocolate, whipped cream, and my favorite--raspberry jam mixed with a touch of Greek yogurt.

8 oz roasted or boiled beets*
200g dark chocolate (70%), broken into pieces
1/4 cup hot espresso
200g butter, cut into small pieces
135g all-purpose flour
heaping tsp of baking powder
3 tbsp cocoa powder
5 eggs
190g superfine sugar

1. Butter an 8-inch springform pan and line the bottom with parchment paper. Preheat the oven to 350F.
2. Process the beets in a food processor or blender into a course puree.
3. In a double-boiler, melt the chocolate. When it's nearly melted, pour in the hot espresso and whisk (carefully, it's hot!). Add the butter, pushing it down under the surface of the chocolate so that it melts a little faster, because we are impatient.
4. Quickly but gently: remove the bowl of chocolate from the heat and stir until the butter has completely melted and the mixture is homogeneous. Allow it to cool for a bit.
5. While the chocolate is cooling, sift together the flour, baking powder, and cocoa. Separate the eggs, putting the whites in a large mixing bowl.
6. Stir the yolks into the chocolate mixture, mixing quickly and firmly so that you don't end up with scrambled eggs. Fold in the beats.
7. With an electric mixer, whisk the egg whites until stiff, then fold in the sugar. Or, if your name is Stephanie, add the sugar when the egg whites are foamy, and sit there with a book while you whisk the equivalent of meringue for ten minutes. Nigel's way is probably better.
8. Gently fold the egg whites and sugar into the chocolate mixture, working in a deep, figure-eight movement. Don't overmix! When there are little marble swirls still, fold in the flour mixture until just combined.
9. Spoon into the prepared cake pan and slide into the oven, immediately reducing the heat to 325F. Bake for 40minutes: the rim of the cake will feel spongy, and the inner parts should still wobble a little when the pan is gently shaken.
10. Set the pan aside to cool (don't fret if it sinks a little in the center), loosening it around the edges with a thin spatula after thirty minutes or so. Resist the temptation to unmold the cake until it is completely cold.
11. Serve in thick, greedy slices.

*To roast beets: Wrap the beets in tinfoil, either individually or in a great big beet envelope, and put on a rimmed cookie sheet (otherwise there will be blood beet juice all over your oven). Roast at 375F for anywhere from one to two hours, depending on the size and age of the beets. If you already have the oven going for something else, you can roast them at anywhere from 325 to 400F--the time will vary though, so I'd recommend checking them after an hour. As Nigel says, "they are ready when you can pierce them through the heart with a skewer. As you might a vampire."