{thanksfully: foodies – the veg}

It shouldn’t have taken moving to the UK to make me thankful for vegetables, but it did.

Growing up in California’s mild temps meant taking for granted having tomatoes in February. Oh, well, no, they weren’t maybe very good tomatoes in February, but somewhere, someone was growing them, and they were there. I could have jicama twelve months of the year. (I didn’t.) Fresh green beans in December? Expensive, sure, but available from someone’s greenhouse. The winter never got too cold for something to grow, somewhere. I could pick and choose my veg and ignore what I didn’t think I’d like… which was anything that was a.) weird looking b.) weird smelling, or c.) both. That was, actually, most things. Like every other Californian, guacamole was its own food group. I ate a lot of tame salads of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and occasionally corn, peas, and carrots. An artichoke was a splurge, jicama was a hot-weather treat, and I could eat butternut squash in a soup, but that’s about as far as I went. Bell peppers and kale were a garnish. Asparagus? Puh-lease. Brussels sprouts? Not a chance. Zucchini or summer squash? Meh (although zucchini, combined with sugar and flour, was great). Eggplant?? Oh, no. Don’t bring that stuff near me.

Fast forward to a dinner two years ago, where my Uncle P., dying of cancer at the time, said to me that he regretted all the vegetables he hadn’t even tried. Uncle P. was a capital T traditionalist in the food department. He ate peas and carrots. Broccoli and cauliflower was living on the wild side. He groused if his wife put anything else in front of him — and so she grilled zucchini and roasted Brussels sprouts for the rest of the family, aaaand…. Uncle P. ate peas and carrots.

Talk about a ridiculously easy to fix regret. For my Uncle P., I determined that I would try…

Now the film goes backwards to going on five years in the UK… where the sun isn’t all that interested in ripening food, so most of it grows underground. You’d better believe that I’m grateful for every veg and leaf ‘o’ green that passes my plate. Do I like them all? Heck, no. But it’s about TRY, not LIKE. (I imagine Yoda’s voice just now: “There is no try, only do.” Yeah, well, these are veggies, bub. There’s “try it” and that’s what we’re dealing with here. I promised to try, not to like.) In a country where French fries are served with everything from pizza to curry, where cold weather and indifferent light make it all too easy to get stodgy and pudgy and never get the blood flowing, I rejoice in the three kinds of cabbage in my fridge. Once upon a time I used to think that I could only take so much cabbage. Um, no. I can take much more. And then a little on top of that. BRING IT. I have learned to tango with the stuff. I don’t like every veg experiment, but I’m more often than not pleasantly… surprised.

Cauliflower? oh, yeah, I can do that, and not just with a cheese sauce. Broccoli? Sure. Turnips, swedes, rutabagas… I’m getting there. Parsnips? They taste like licorice carrots, which is so weird that I’ve actually made them into muffins. I can now tell my Savoy from my Napa, my chard from my kale; I am a brassica professional, and the queen of the root vegetable. I eat zucchini. Regularly. As long as it’s not overcooked. Squash herbed and grilled is a gift. I can put vegetables into anything – a baked macaroni? Better with cauliflower. Pasta? Is just waiting for chunks of roasted squash, peas, carrots, and soy beans – which are tasty even outside of a Japanese restaurant. Baked potatoes? Add a few roasted beets alongside. I eat my veg like a big girl… which just gives me this ridiculous amount of pride. Eventually, I’ll get out of Remedial Adulthood 101, and on to the real thing! Maybe. Oh, who cares: the point is, once I couldn’t eat this stuff, for love nor money, and now I can. Necessity is the mother of spaghetti squash.

Traditionally we’re “thankful for our food” at Thanksgiving, but I’m thinking it’s time to be a bit more specific. Today, I am grateful for the veg I’ve come to know. The kohlrabi, which tastes like broccoli apples, and actually works out okay in a salad – in the summer, thinly sliced plums and a spicy dressing make it really tasty. The Brussels sprouts (here known only as “sprouts”), which, when roasted with herbs, are almost creamy. And don’t get me started on kale – yum – or the varieties of ways you can cook cabbage – or carrot and butternut squash, with coconut milk, in a soup…

Beets are great,
sprouts are good
thanks for the veg,
thanks for the food.

Bon Appétit.