By Sharon Ashwood
We’re all pretty food-focussed here at the Cove, so writing about vegetables isn’t strange. Really. Also, I’m writing this just to prove that, yes, I can on occasion be retrained. As a child I hated relatively few foods, but turnip-type items were high on the list, just below Brussels sprouts and Lima beans. Blech! And yet, while the jury is still out on those last two, I had a food adventure this weekend that made me less reluctant to allow rutabaga past my lips. Yes, rutabaga, that unlovely cross between a cabbage and a turnip.
How did this miracle happen? I went out for a combo celebration at one of my favorite restaurants. For my part of the combo, I had a few things to feel good about. Last August I made a pretty long list of things I wanted to do for my writing business and checked most of them off. I’ve also been nominated for a RITA award for my novel ENCHANTED WARRIOR in the paranormal romance category. As this is the second year in a row, I’m very pleased. It was high time for a treat.
So back to the root vegetables. I went to a whole foods restaurant called Nourish in the Harbour (nourishkitchen.ca) and had a dish containing blanched rutabaga noodles, charred broccoli, roasted carrots, cultured cashew cream, pickled shallots, sunchoke chips, and cured egg yolk. In other words, my meal was free of meat, gluten, dairy, small puppies, and all other politically incorrect food groups. (Yes, I remember when being vegetarian was considered weird. Now it’s for beginners.) Not sure what to expect, I ordered it as the only meatless entrée on offer and hoped for the best.
Astonishingly, it was completely, fabulously delicious. The blanched noodles (essentially long strips of vegetable, no pasta in sight) were tender and completely satisfying with a hint of the well-seasoned cashew cream. The other ingredients were beautifully colourful. By the end of the second bite, I was converted.
Sometimes it pays to give old vegetables a second chance. I’m eager to break out my spiralizer and start experimenting. If I come up with something even half as good as that dish, I’ll share the results!
But of course, one cannot live on rutabaga alone, so we moved on to desserts.