By Heydon + Isaac

Ever shoot for the stars in the kitchen and then just completely fail? Well, this is the story of my better half and I aiming really high with a crash and burn as the ultimate outcome. Disclaimer: there’s no new recipe from us this week; however, there IS a funny-ish anecdote and links to other more *polished* recipes.



It started off like an ordinary beginning-of-the-week recipe-brainstorming series of texts, me vouching for an easy written piece on the understated power of blanching kale to augment salads (maybe next time?), and Isaac scheming up some elaborate culinary feat that he vows he can whip up in a couple of hours (and usually can… let’s be real, he’s the true artist here). With the perfect maelstrom of night school, work travel, band practice, and full-time jobs - we had only the late-night hours of Tuesday to come up with something blog-worthy for dinner.

The farmers’ market was stacked with picturesque bouquets of golden and red beets (Lyndsie at Mueller truly is a virtuoso of product placement), so we felt like it was the obvious veggie to feature. Plus, with a surfeit of beets throughout the year, why not add another recipe to the mix. Anyhoo, I go to the store, get the carefully curated list Isaac dictates over a quick phone call -- he’s installing some complex light fixture and shouldering the phone as I simultaneously fly through the market. He gets home and we start the process around 9 PM. The aioli to pair with the beets is way too salty the first time around. We end up making that twice. Damn good the second time though, I must say. You can find the recipe here for that. YUM.

After having the beets roasting in the oven for 40 minutes, these scorching hot roots were peeled and chopped, rolled in eggs, and covered in a mixture of cornstarch and chili powder. We dropped the first bout in only to realize the oil is most definitely not hot enough. Isaac stands over the pot cursing as he scoops the first round out... some VERY sad, mealy and mushy beets emerge.

We salvage the final handful of beets and get the oil to the correct temperature. After a short bath in the oil, we pull out about 8 tiny, perfect chunks of beets to enjoy. It’s around midnight at this point and we are starving. They are quickly scarfed down, heavily doused in the aforementioned aioli. We look at each other, both fully frustrated, and laugh. The house smells like the State Fair, or more specifically like standing directly next to the funnel cake stand. The counters are covered in oil and cornstarch, and we are BEAT. I slide the compost bin across the floor from its usual spot and we get to sluggishly cleaning the massive frying mess together. Even though we were mostly thwarted in our endeavor, those couple bites of fried beets were truly salty bliss. If this story has you jonesin’ for some successfully fried beets (I don't blame ya), either hop over to East Side Kings or try your luck and follow this divine recipe.

Godspeed in the kitchen. I will be laughing about this experience for a long time to come. ‘Til next time, folks.