1. Buy the right dirt.

Succulents and cacti need dirt that’s classified as “fast drain” because they have roots that are not fans of being kept in moist soil. You can find it at your local garden store, just make sure it’s marked “cactus dirt” and you should be good to go.  Or, if you’re particularly ambitious, you can make your own cactus dirt – there’s a how-to video with a recipe here.

2. Find the perfect pot.

Not only do you want to find a pot that’s nice to look at (it is, after all, a big part of your garden) but make sure it has a big hole in the bottom so it will drain when you water your garden, instead of pooling at the bottom. Excess water that gets stuck in the bottom of a pot can cause the roots of your plants to rot, so this point is extra important.

3. 

   This Christmas Cactus displays beautiful blooms!

   Select a big variety!

Now, the fun part: plant shopping! The interesting thing about succulents is they’re found in all areas of the world, and so you can mix and match. In my latest succulent pot, I have plants from Morocco, Tanzania, and Australia, all mixed together – it’s like a botanical world tour! What makes an interesting succulent container garden, in my opinion, is a variety of heights, leaf shapes, and colors, so don’t be afraid to get picky (even if it takes so long that not just one, but THREE, Home Depot Garden Center employees come up to you over the course of your shopping trip to ask, “Do you need any help, miss?” like, uh, the author of this article..).

4. Give them room to grow.

Now that you have picked out your plants, make sure they have lots of room to spread out and leaf out. I suggest at least an inch width around each of your small plants when you first plant in order to give them plenty of space to grow and fill out your container garden…or, if you got overly ambitious, container gardens.

5. Put them on a good plant diet.

Yep, even cacti like a good drink! Don’t forget to water your succulents about 1-2 times a week. Depending on the size of your garden, you can simply put the whole container under a tap and let the water flow over the garden until it begins to drain out the bottom of the pot (for about fifteen seconds). As long as you have the right soil and pot, your plants will thank you for remembering them (but probably forgive you if you forget them every once and a while. That’s the nice part about these guys.). And worry not, those of you in colder climates: as long as your little succulent garden is placed in a sunny window (but not too near the cold windowpane), they can easily be wintered over indoors and enjoyed all year round. Finally, fertilize your garden at least a few times a year with a ¼ diluted garden fertilizer (especially during the summer, when your garden gets the most light). This will help your plants thrive for years to come. Good luck and happy growing!

~Megan~

After becoming settled in my new apartment at Kent State University, I drove to the local Giant Eagle to stock up on some cliché college food and caffeine. When walking up and down aisles in search of chocolate for some much needed brownies, a box caught my eye: Roasted and Salted Pepitas. I picked up the container, read the label, and could not figure out what on earth I was holding. While I usually would have placed the item back down and continued to search for chocolate, I decided to buy the inexpensive container and find a recipe for the unusual food.

I got back to my apartment and searched the Internet for an explanation of pepitas. After a few minutes of Googling I found out that they are the seeds of a pumpkin or squash and often used in cooking or even just eaten as a snack. I came across a recipe for Pepita Salad and after reading over it, I decided to put my brownies on hold and give it a try.

For the salad I used:

1 cup pepitas, roasted and salted
1 cup cilantro leaves and stems, well washed
1/3 cup Parmesan cheese, freshly grated
3 medium cloves garlic, peeled
juice of 1 medium lemon
1 serrano chile pepper, minced (optional)
2/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 cups cooked yellow split peas
1 bag of lettuce of choice

First, I washed and chopped the cilantro, placed it in a medium sized bowl, and added 1/3 cup of the pepitas.

I then peeled and diced the garlic, squeezed the lemon juice, and chopped the chile pepper. I combined these ingredients with the cilantro and pepitas and added the olive oil and Parmesan cheese to the mixture.

In a large bowl I tossed the lettuce, remaining pepitas, and ingredients from the medium bowl until everything was fully coated. I then added the cooked split peas to the salad and tossed everything again. To cook the split peas, I brought six cups of water to a boil, added two cups of split peas, and cooked for 20-30 minutes. I then drained the peas and added salt to taste.

I made myself a plate, sat down, and enjoyed!

~Kerry~

Like any other student anticipating the end of August/beginning of September time of year, I am still wondering how June, July, and August passed by so quickly. I took five courses throughout my summer break, and now that they all have come to an end, I feel as though my summer has just begun.

During my last few weeks of relaxation, I have been traveling to various areas throughout Cleveland to engage in a personal favorite hobby: photography. To keep a three-year tradition of mine alive, I recently attended the Feast of the Assumption in Little Italy. The Feast is an annual event that begins with a religious procession through the streets, followed by carnival rides, vendors, live music, and fireworks. The Feast amazes me. From meeting new people, experiencing a different culture, and, of course, sampling delicious Italian food, the event is far beyond entertaining.

This year I decided to bring along my camera as I took a Photography course this summer and wanted to practice some of the skills that I learned throughout the five-week intensive class. Between endless pasta, pizza, and pastries, I took pictures of the colorful environment, live entertainment, and different vendors throughout the crowded streets of Little Italy. By taking pictures of different places throughout the Cleveland area, I hope to pass along not only the environment and scenery of the particular subject matter, but also give the viewer a sense of the smells throughout the area, textures, tastes, and other more descriptive characteristics not usually conveyed by the average photograph.

Which leads me to my central interest: I have always enjoyed being creative. Whether it was making a birthday card for a friend, helping my mom cook a new recipe, or designing collages for my bedroom, I have always demonstrated an artistic passion. I still practice all of these childhood interests today, making personalized birthday cards, cooking and baking any new recipe I can get my hands on, and designing collages, posters, and brochures for others and myself.

In a few days I will continue to practice these interests as I begin my first full semester with Kent State University. I attended John Carroll University for the past two years as a Marketing major, but after taking three Visual Communication Design (VCD) courses with Kent last summer, I decided to further pursue their program and learn more about the growing field of design. I will be working toward earning degrees in both VCD and Managerial Marketing as I hope to combine the two areas of interest and someday work as a Graphic Designer while applying business knowledge to my projects. While change terrifies me, I anticipate my transfer not as a change but more as an enriching opportunity that will allow me to finally discover all of my capabilities.

Over the course of this semester I have two expectations of myself: remain positive throughout this new experience and grow as an individual. I could not be more thrilled to begin my internship with EY and share some of my interests with a broader range of individuals. I look forward to the months to come, and I am thankful for having the courage to engage in such great opportunities.

~ Kerry ~

Want to see more of Kerry’s pictures from the Feast?  Check out her album posted on EY’s facebook page.

Part 2 of 2 by Megan Ritchie

(continued from Part 1 of 2)   After an hour on the water sea kayaking, I was all calm now, a real ocean woman. Sure, I come from the middle of an enormous continent, and have lived in landlocked cities my whole life, but here I was, at my true roots.  I was an ocean conqueror! A Californian!!   Suddenly the waves lurched in front of me, taking my boat with them. An enormous wave  overtook my boat and spun it parallel to the shore, like a crazed giant with a toy top, before flipping me over into the waves. There was a flash of panic as I tumbled out, and the waves ripped away my sunglasses, ponytail binder, and the sassy bandana I’d tied into my hair that morning, and carried them to somewhere far away.  I kicked hard away from my boat, all the while thinking “Don’t let it hit my head. Please don’t let it hit my head.”

Wave after mighty wave ground me into the sand. I struggled to stand against them – I was only a dozen feet off the shore by then and the water wasn’t deep – and finally, gained my footing. I plodded up to shore.

On shore, Sarah was doubled over with laughter. “That was….gasp….the biggest wave….gasp…I have ever seen,” she said as she scrambled to grab my paddle out of the still pummeling waves. Adrianna, the wench, had made a successful landing on shore unscathed, and helped me pull my boat up onto drier ground, before we all collapsed into laughter.

“That was amazing,” Sarah said, once we’d all caught our breaths. Sarah pointed up to the pier. “There were even guys up there at the restaurant who were yelling suggestions to you, but once that wave came up, you didn’t have a chance.”

I tapped my head, trying to get some water out of my ear. “I’ve always known I’m really gracefully,” I said dryly. “But I think I may have outdone myself on that one.”

We decided to eat our lunch on the beach before heading back out for another round of kayaking. We scurried up to the parking lot and I reached into my running shorts to grab the key – we’d locked our lunches in the trunk. But the key wasn’t there.

“Oh. No.” I said.

“What is it?” asked Adrianna.

“The key. I put it right here,” I said, motioning to the little pocket stitched into my running shorts, “But when I fell, it must’ve…it must’ve gotten pulled out.” We all looked out onto the waves.

“Oh shit,” said Sarah.

“Yeah.”

We ran down the stairs again, looking around in the sand. But, like my sunglasses and bandana, there was no sign of the car key. I’d taken it off from my lanyard, so it was easier to tuck into my running shorts; our hunt was literally looking for a needle in a haystack…or a car key in an ocean. Sarah said she’d keep looking along the beach while Adrianna and I clambered back up to the parking lot. We debated what to do for a moment, before appealing to the parking attendant to use his phone. After explaining what had happened, he said matter-of-factly, “Oh, you should never take your keys out with you. Everyone just checks them here with me or at the Surf Shack. That way, you’ll never lose them if you hit a wave.” I looked at him. Paused.

“That’s good advice, I’ll be sure to do that next time,” I said through clenched teeth. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own (and maybe that big wave’s) that we were in the situation, but it wasn’t particularly helpful to be reminded of a wiser alternative.

Adrianna and I came up with a plan: I had a Triple A membership and could get them to unlock the trunk, which had my purse and phone. Then, I’d call one of my roommates, all of whom I’d met only six weeks earlier, and convince them, beg them really, to drive across the entire Los Angeles metropolitan area on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon with my spare car key, only to turn around and drive home. I sighed. There went the afternoon, and a nice chunk of my dignity.

Triple A said they’d be there in 45 minutes. I handed the parking attendant back his phone and thanked him for his help. He shrugged and gave me a “You sure are dumb” look. Helpful. Adrianna went to go check in with Sarah, and came back saying there was still no sign of the key along the beach. Just then, the surfer dude from the Shack, the guy who’d helped us carry the kayaks down to the beach what seemed like days ago, passed by, helping another couple with their boats.

“How’d it go?” he asked. “You didn’t die, I see.”

“Oh, it was really fun,” I said, trying to reassure his latest victims. “Except, well, I managed to horribly flip my kayak and lose my car key in the ocean.”

The couple, still fresh, looked a little alarmed. “Oh God, that’s horrible,” said the surfer dude. He shot me a sympathetic look as he kept walking past. Adrianna sighed unhappily.

“Are you sure it’s not in your shorts?” she asked.

I shook my head as I poked around in them again, adding “groping myself” to my long list of how uncool I looked/felt at that moment. They were the type of shorts that had built-in underwear, the better to run in, I suppose, and I fiddled around with the liner.

“No, I don’t see—“ And then there, at the very bottom of the shorts, at the very bottom of the liner, I felt something: The key.

I pulled it out, looking very much like a proud hen that had just laid an egg, or, in this case, a Ford Focus key. “I found it! I found it!”

After high-fives all around and a quick phone call to cancel the Triple A locksmith,  we settled along some rocks for a victory lunch. Maybe I wasn’t a Californian just yet, maybe I hadn’t yet mastered sea kayaking or waves or heck, checking my car key with the parking lot attendant, but one thing is for sure: I am really good at storing stuff in my underwear.

 ~Megan~

By Megan Ritchie

About a month after I moved to Los Angeles, a friend and her girlfriend, Adrianna, invited me to go sea kayaking with them in Malibu. I’d been kayaking a handful of times, most recently on a family vacation to Lake Superior last summer, and was really excited to try it in the ocean.

On a Sunday afternoon, we drove the twenty or so miles from my house on the east side of Los Angeles, across the city and up the coast along the Pacific Coast Highway (or PCH, to us “locals”). Parking on the PCH, which runs right alongside the ocean, is impossible, but we eventually found a parking lot right next to the beach and dropped the ten bucks to park there. After locking all of our possessions in the trunk, I tucked my car key in a little pouch in my running shorts (pay attention to that detail – it comes in later), and set off. We scampered across the highway to the Malibu Surf Shack, which rents surf boards, paddleboards and, you got it, sea kayaks. After we ducked in to the little shop and our eyes adjusted to the dim light, the guy behind the counter asked if we’d been sea kayaking before. Sarah and Adrianna both nodded, yep, they’d been once before at the Surf Shack a handful of months earlier. I hesitated, and then said, “Sure, I’ve kayaked before.” Technically not on the ocean, but so be it.

“Well, good,” said the guy, who was every bit a surfer dude. “Wouldn’t want an inexperienced kayaker out on those waves today….they’re reaaaal rough, even for someone who knows what they’re doing.”

My heart began to pound as we signed off the waivers and put down the deposit.  Sarah, clearly the brains behind the operation—or at least the bravest of us all—led us out of the little shop. Adrianna and I both began talking about how we weren’t exactly “experienced kayakers.”

“Oh, we’ll be fine.” Sarah said, brushing us off.

Feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline and fear I always get from any rule-breaking or risk-taking because I am a coward and a square, I followed her around the side of the shop. We grabbed paddles and damp lifejackets and then waited for a lull in the traffic before running across the highway and back to the beach. The sea kayaks in bright citrus colors were stacked high in a trailer parked alongside the road. Another surfer dude from the Surf Shack helped us carry three down to the sand.

The waves were pounding along the beach. Adrianna and I gulped. Sarah, all confidence, tried to reassure us. I turned to the Surf Shack dude.

“Tell us, honestly,” I said. “Are we going to die?”

“What? No. You guys will be fine.”

“But we are not experienced sea kayakers, man.” I added the “man” there to let him know that even if we weren’t regular wave-paddlers, we were far from dorks. He seemed to pick up on how cool we were, because he said next in particularly soothing tones:

“Look, you’ll be fine. I promise.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, but Adrianna and I were willing to be reassured by anyone, dude or otherwise.

The guy continued, “All you have to do is wait for a lull in the waves and then run out as fast and as hard as you can and hop in the boat when you can’t run any farther. The waves here in Malibu come in bursts—they’ll be a couple minutes of hard waves and then they’ll die down.”

We all paused to look out on the waves. They did seem to be dying down. Sarah took the moment to leap into the water and run out with her boat. When she reached waist-height, she leapt into her boat and paddled out. She looked cool.

I’d missed my window at that point, and had to wait for another round of boat-crushing waves before I too took the plunge. Once the water calmed again, I pushed my boat into the water and high-stepped as far as I could. I leapt into my boat not as gracefully as Sarah but I got in all the same, and paddled quickly past the waves’ breaking point. Alright, maybe I wasn’t going to die. Maybe I was all drama, it was all in my head. There is no spoon. Adrianna and I exchanged a nervous laugh – we were just being silly, everything was fine.

I should note that this was only the second or third time I’d even seen the ocean, let alone been on the water. I’m from Minnesota originally and so “the beach” to me means a day near a lake where the biggest waves we get are from a passing speedboat pulling a couple kids on an inner tube behind it. So my cowardice, while a little pathetic, wasn’t entirely ungrounded.

We paddled our boats out past the wooden pier. There were fishermen with long poles standing at the end of  it, and a few of them waved at us as we passed. It was a gorgeous afternoon, with barely a breeze and a cloudless sky. I looked around at the gentle waves and the rocky coastline, and kept having to tell myself “I live here now. This is my home now.” Sometimes, I find it amazing how huge the United States really are. I marveled how the beautiful coastline I was kayaking along was part of the same country as the rolling hills of prairie grass and wildflowers I’d ridden past only a few months earlier on bike rides in Minnesota.

As we made our way up the shore, we saw surfers up ahead; there was some kind of surfing competition going on up the beach. We paddled out farther to avoid them, and because (understandably) the waves looked even bigger there. We paddled for an hour or so before deciding to come back in and have lunch along the shore.

For the approach back to the beach, we were to do the same strategy as our way out: wait for the waves to calm before paddling. Sarah turned to us. “All you have to remember,” she said, “is to keep your boat at a 90 degree angle to the beach. Just head straight in. See, watch me.”

Sarah paddled forward hard for thirty or forty feet before sliding her boat gracefully onto the sand. Easy. Adrianna and I hesitated. She looked at me nervously. “I’m sure we’ll be fine,” I said, thrusting my chin forward bravely. I looked behind me to try to gauge if the waves had died down. Things looked fairly calm so I paddled toward the shore, making sure to stay perpendicular to the shoreline, as Sarah had instructed.

Adrianna followed suit, looking anxious. After my hour on the water, I was all calm now, a real ocean woman. Sure, I come from the middle of an enormous continent, and have lived in landlocked cities my whole life, but here I was, at my true roots. Humans emerged from the ocean thousands of years ago, shook off their gills and claimed their spot on land. And now, here I was, returning to my ocean homeland, victorious. The forces bigger than me were to be conquered, to bow before me. Yeah, I was an ocean conqueror! A Californian!!

I paddled harder for shore. Suddenly the waves lurched in front of me, taking my boat with them. I glanced over at Adrianna, who was struggling to keep her boat’s bow heading straight for shore. Her kayak pushed toward mine, and I paddled even harder away from her, trying to avoid a collision.

The waves were now coming in even harder, rolling us closer and closer to shore. Suddenly, an enormous wave overtook us, and took my boat and spun it parallel to the shore, like a crazed giant with a toy top, before flipping me over into the waves. There was a flash of panic as I tumbled out, and the waves ripped away my sunglasses, ponytail binder, and the sassy bandana I’d tied into my hair that morning, and carried them to somewhere far away.  I kicked hard away from my boat, all the while thinking “Don’t let it hit my head. Please don’t let it hit my head…”

…to be continued  

We are all guilty of over-extending ourselves at times, but just because you’re busy doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat healthily. Some of the best “on the go” snacks are high in nutrients. For someone like me that loves fresh fruit, smoothies are the perfect snack to grab on my way out the door.

Prep time for smoothies is pretty minimal (5 minutes tops!) You can use a blender or food processor to combine all of your ingredients together into one delicious drink.

For my smoothie, I used:

½ raw beet

½ banana

½ orange

¼ apple

1 tsp honey

6 oz. yogurt

This makes 1-2 servings depending on the size of your glass. To be honest, I was shocked at how good it tasted. I coaxed my grandma into trying it too and she loved it!

You can use any combination of the ingredients above and you can substitute a non-dairy product or even ice cubes for the yogurt.   Smoothies are forgiving and can be tweaked until they taste just right. The beets not only add a bright pop of color, but a surprisingly satisfying sweetness.  What a great way to start or end your day!

~Rebecca~

Rebecca Under the Influence of the Beet

So why not try it as a makeup?  Red beets provide a green alternative to the usual chemical dies found in commercial products and  can be unbelievably simple to apply.  For a light pink to deeper red lip stain, simply rub a raw slice of beet across your lips.  The color is safe and healthy and will last for several hours.

Want to create a more traditional lip gloss?  Simply mix beet juice with a small amount of olive oil and a touch of powdered sugar to thicken the mixture.  Other “recipes” call for melted beeswax and a mixture of castor oil and sesame oil all whipped together before introducing the beet juice. This recipe can be put in a container and used over time.

Beautiful, practical, healthy, easy and affordable.  Oh – and of course – tasty!  Get ready to kiss your old lipstick good bye!

The Otherworldly Beet

In Ukraine, this spicy sweet condiment or salad called khrin (хрін) is a traditional Easter dish, but it is known and used throughout the world under a variety of names and for a variety of purposes.   In the US, it is commonly referred to as Red <Beet> Horseradish and its bright pink color makes it an interesting addition to more typical condiments.

Ingredients

• 2-4 stalks of fresh horseradish, grated
• 1-2 raw beets, peeled and grated

Procedure

• Peel and grate raw beets. Let them sit for a little while and then squeeze the juice out.
• Grate the horseradish and put into a bowl (note: the grating of the horseradish releases an enzyme that creates its spiciness.  As the grated horseradish sits,  it will become spicier – to a point – however if left too long, it will lose that pungent flavor and become bitter).
• Add the beet juice to the horseradish and mix (note: adding the beet juice counteracts the enzyme and stops the spiciness from perpetuating.  Additionally, the beets add a sweet flavor which further mellows the horseradish)

Khrin is a delicious accompaniment to any sort of cooked or cured meat.

On that spicy note – Happy adventures in Ukrainian cooking-with-beets! Leave a comment if you have other favorite beet-related or Ukrainian recipes.

Смачного (smachnoho)!  ~Tammela~

Other names this (or a similar horseradish) dish is known by:

Central and Eastern Europe – khreyn or keen.

Poland  – ofchrzan

Czech Republic – křen 

Lithuania – krienai

Russia – хрен, khren 

Hungary - torma

Romania – hrean

Bulgaria – хрян,khryan

 Slovakia – chren

I know what you’re thinking…beet cupcakes?! Sounds pretty crazy, huh? For a beet hater like myself, I’ll openly admit to my skepticism. To me, beets are sickeningly sweet, but when they’re baked into pretty little treats, they can actually taste amazing!

You’ve probably passed beets in the supermarket without giving them the time of day and I can’t really blame you, but what you might not know is that beets are actually an incredibly healthy food – super foods in their own right. Joining garlic, green tea and flaxseed, beets can help prevent cancer. They have no trans fat, no saturated fat, are low in calories, and are a great source of iron.

The perfect beet is hard to come by; it should be deep red with roots extending from the bulb. Crisp greens are also a good indicator that your beets are fresh. You’re going to cut these off for your cupcakes (trust me, I tried it, they’re disgusting in cupcake batter and frosting batter.)

Follow the steps to make beet puree  from the beet margarita recipe (Beet Week Day 3). In a nutshell, you’ll be roasting 3-4 beets wrapped in foil at 400 degrees for about 45 minutes. Unwrap, run under cold water and peel the skins off…they come off extremely easily.

Cut the beets into quarters (maybe smaller depending on the size of your beets), and put them in the food processor or blender.

3-4 beets will yield about a cup of beet puree. Set this aside.

Here’s your Beet Cupcake Recipe:

½ C Sugar

1 ½ C Flour

2 tsp Baking Powder

½ C Butter (1 stick)
2 eggs

½ C Milk

2 tsp Vanilla

1 C Beet Puree

Depending on how big your cupcake pan is, this recipe creates about 12 cupcakes.

First, combine the dry ingredients in a bowl (sugar, flour, baking powder). Cream the butter in a mixer; if you don’t have access to a mixer, soften the butter in the microwave for 10 seconds and use a spoon to soften it up for your cake batter.

Whisk your eggs in a separate bowl and add the milk and vanilla to it. Slowly add the dry mix to the wet mix and stir continually.

Once your batter is nice and creamy, fold (mix) in the beet puree.

Use a ladle or spoon to portion your batter into your cupcake pan and bake at 350 for 25 minutes.

And remember, a cupcake is nothing without frosting.

Vanilla Cream Cheese Frosting recipe:

½ C Butter (1 stick)

8 oz Cream Cheese (1 package)

1 C Powdered Sugar

2 tsp Vanilla

Cream the butter and cream cheese together in a mixer until malleable. Add the powdered sugar in SLOWLY; you don’t want it to splash back in your face. Finally, add in the vanilla and let the mixer go for 30 seconds or so. It sometimes helps if you take a rubber spatula and scrape down the sides so all of the deliciousness is contained.

I realize not everyone has pastry bags to pipe out their frosting (I’m lucky; my mom’s a chef!) Be resourceful though…plastic freezer bags can act as pastry bags. Put the icing in the bag using a rubber spatula.

Zip the plastic bag shut and squeeze the frosting down to one end. Hold the bag in a diamond shape so one of the tips is pointing down like this:

…and snip the tip off! Once your cupcakes are cooled, you can make them look pretty.

I bought all of my beets from local farmer’s markets. You might have one near you too! If you’ve never been to a farmer’s market, it’s a really cool place where you can buy fresh fruit, vegetables, and other goods to support your local farms.  As an added bonus, the  produce is usually much cheaper and fresher at farmer’s markets.  In Cleveland, (as in other places – see below* for a sampling) you can find them listed on one site: localfoodcleveland.org.

Enjoy your beet cupcakes! Please comment with pictures of your own cupcakes or other beet concoctions (:

-Rebecca-

*Many states, regions and cities have sites listing farmers markets- here are a few examples.

California

New York City

Chicago

Denver

Minneapolis/St. Paul

ps – during our experimentation with different recipes, we also tried these cupcakes with a canned chocolate frosting.  We found this to be a respectable (and tasty) alternative.

As you all may know by now, I’ve been living in Ukraine as a Peace Corps Volunteer since September 2010 and thus have had plenty of time to taste – and sometimes cook – many traditional Ukrainian dishes. A lot of these dishes include the staple (mainly root) vegetables that grow so easily and abundantly here in eastern Europe: potatoes, carrots, onions, cabbage, and beets. It is amazing how many different combinations and variations one can create from just these five vegetables.

Most people are quite familiar and comfortable with cooking and eating potatoes, carrots, onions and even cabbage. But I have found that beets challenge and puzzle many cooks. They are a funny shape, have a thicker skin than potatoes or carrots, and are (usually) a deep red-purple color that stains almost everything it touches.

How the heck does one cook and eat a beet?

That is what I am here to tell you!

I developed a passion for beets several summers ago while shopping at farmer’s markets in the States. That first summer I experimented with beet preparation: I roasted, boiled, and sautéed beets, sometimes alone and sometimes with other root vegetables. Some dishes turned out well and some failed. Living in Ukraine for the past year and a half has expanded my how-to-prepare-beets horizons.  Following your introduction to Borscht, I shall now introduce you to some other classic Ukrainian dishes that feature beets.

These beet-sporting Ukrainian dishes, which are often made for holiday meals but are equally as good for regular consumption include salat vinehret (салат вінегрет), one of my favorite salads; and salat shuba (салат шуба; shuba means “fur coat”), which is a bit of an acquired taste.

Hope you enjoy!

Tammela

 салат вінегрет (salat vinehret) 

The vegetable proportions are generally about equal, but feel free to add more or less of anything, to your taste.

Ingredients

• 1-3 small-medium potatoes, peeled
• 1-2 medium beets
• 1-2 medium carrots
• 1-2 medium dill pickles (preferable homemade ones), diced
• 1 medium onion, diced
• Oil, to taste
• Salt and pepper, to taste

Procedure

• Boil whole potatoes, beets, and carrots until cooked through. The beets will take the longest to cook – 45-60 minutes – so put them in first.
• Meanwhile, dice the pickles and onion and put them in a big bowl.
• When the root vegetables are cooked, peel the beets and carrots and let cool. When they are cool enough, dice the potatoes, beets, and carrots.
• Add diced root vegetables to the bowl and season with your preferred amount of oil, salt, and pepper. Mix, and enjoy!

салат шуба (salat shuba)

If you are a mayonnaise lover, you can add it in between every layer. But if you’re like me and are slightly mayo-averse, feel free to only add it to the top layer.

Ingredients

• 1-3 small-medium potatoes, peeled
• 1-2 medium beets
• 1-3 medium carrots
• 1-2 cups pickled herring, diced
• Mayonnaise, to taste

Procedure

• Boil whole potatoes, beets, and carrots until cooked through. The beets will take the longest to cook – 45-60 minutes – so put them in first.
• Meanwhile, dice the herring and spread it out on a large shallow platter.
• When the root vegetables are cooked, peel the beets and carrots and let cool. When they are cool enough, grate the potatoes, beets, and carrots but keep them separate.
• Spread the grated potatoes over the herring, smoothing them into a nice, flat layer.
• Spread the grated carrots over the potato layer.
• Spread the grated beets on top of the carrots. Add a couple of tablespoons of mayonnaise and spread it around evenly, letting it mix a little with the beets.
• This salad looks beautiful when served in clean-cut slices that reveal the colorful layers.