Sometimes the dreaded question of the evening.  After starting work last week I’ve already run into the dinner question, what’s for dinner?  Some nights (especially in the winter) I am so unmotivated to cook.  It’s not that I don’t love to cook or love to eat- but it’s the getting creative part.  Sometimes Doug and I don’t always agree on what to eat.  For example, I could eat vegetable curry every night, Doug on the other hand, not so much.  I have a hard time getting him to eat it once.  So here lies part of the problem.  I want to keep it exciting so that there’s always something new for Ryder, we like to expose him to lots of different types of food.  During the summer when fruits and veggies are in abundance it seems much easier ( I actually can live on tomato sandwiches during the summer) but in the winter when most veggies are resting and the remainder are being shipped in from Chile, I have a hard time figuring out meals that everyone will like. 

One of my new faves are golden beets. 

 golden beets

 For those of you who are making a face and turning your nose up at the word beets, you haven’t tried organic golden beets.  I haven’t quite made a convert out of my husband but Ryder admitted he liked them (score one for mom).  My favorite way to cook them is just salt, pepper and olive oil and throw them on the grill, but again in the winter I don’t always like to grill so I have started to roast them in the oven or even just in a skillet with some thinly sliced onions.  They are just so pretty and tasty.  I challenge everyone to go out to your local market and look for fresh organic golden beets and try them- you just might like them- even a three year old likes them.

The first gatherings of the garden in May of salads, radishes and herbs made me feel
like a mother about her baby – how could anything so beautiful be mine.  And this emotion
of wonder filled me for each vegetable as it was gathered every year.  There is
nothing that is comparable to it, as satisfactory or as thrilling,
as gathering the vegetables one has grown.
–  Alice B. Toklas