Nurturing my inner... root and sprouts work of art

Some months back, I went to a restaurant called "Firefly" in DC and had a fabulous salad.  Since that time, I've thought about it often.  The flavors, the colors, the presentation.  But today, I recreated it!  With minor tweaks.

Roasted Beet, Goat Cheese and Sprouted Beans Salad

1 medium-sized beet
1 tbsp soft goat cheese
A handful of Moon Salad (Or any sprouted beans/greens)
1 tsp aged balsamic vinegar
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Dash of salt

Daunting task: learn to roast beets.  (Eeekkk!!!)  Minor freak out session out of the way.  Let's do this thing.

I decided not to buy beets with the green, froofy tops on them.  Because I wasn't going to use the greens.  I don't even know what you use them for.  And I wasn't going to pay for the weight of things I was only going to throw out.  So, I went with the loose beets and choose three that were small, baseball-sized.  First things first, I washed them.

Not very pretty at this point. Not
looking terribly washed even.

There are different schools of theory on roasting the deep garnet root vegetable.  Most traditionally, I have seen each one individually wrapped in foil and placed on a cookie sheet.

Get ready guys, you're about to get packetized!

But I liked the packet idea better.  Because the science behind it was that the packet traps the steam, if you seal it tightly, and that helps cook the dense veggie.  Which was going to take some goodly chunk of time.

Snug as a beet in a rug.  Like beets in
a silver sleeping bag.

You can put them on a cookie sheet, but I had a little pan that fit the packet perfectly and that was good enough for my beet triplets.

An ideal fit.  Trust me, they are in there.
You can see the lumps.

At 350 degrees, bake them for 1 1/2 hours.  They are done when a knife goes in them easily.  This is not a fast ingredient prep session, but the assembling doesn't take long and is a blast.  Plus, you don't have to actually do anything productive while your beets are baking.  You could watch a movie.  Go out for a run.  Write a letter.  Take a bath.  The magic happens without your constant supervision.  (Fear not, you'll be desperately needed later.)




The purple is on the way!



You're going to need gear for this.  As if these berry-colored gems are radioactive, you've got to suit up.  1.) I would not wear white.  2.) You should wear latex gloves.  Unless you want to turn into Barney.  Beet juice can stain your hands and clothes like you would not believe.  Consider it indelible ink.

Inexpensive. Can buy these by the box.

I will say I tried my darndest to think of a way to photograph latex gloves without looking like a surgeon or a cat burglar and guess what?  There is no way.  (This is the kind of photo that lands people in prison.  I hope you'll be my one phone call with bail handy.)

And the skins slip off like little sweaters.

Amazingly enough, the latex gloves don't look any better when covered with purply-red juice.  (I can hear the sirens getting closer by the minute.)  But back to crazy beet antics, the skins really do come off easily with just a little elbow grease.  They said it was easier to peel them after cooking and I can believe it.

Ta da! Naked beets.

Luscious gems, they are!  I mean, look at them.  At this point, I was feeling pretty invincible.  If I can roast beets, shoot, I can do anything!

Assembly time has arrived.  (Yea!)  Slice into pieces in shapes of your choosing.  I tried to go with small pyramids because I like the look.  It's not like you're bound by law or anything.  You're a free agent, driving with your creative license!

Center of attention. Getting to the heart of it.

So, check, beets are complete.  The restaurant I went to used arugula for their greens.  I had another idea in mind...

Now, introducing one of the weirdest things I've ever purchased.  Moon Salad.  Oh yes, I should keep you waiting for an explanation about that.

Who cares if I know what this is, it looked
intriguing and I wanted it.

Moon Salad is a container of several kinds of sprouted beans and greens.  The whole "sprouted" thing was new to me, so I had to do a little research.  Sprouting happens when conditions are met that involve air, light, moisture and can be done in your own home.  (Not so sure I'm likely to do that as I don't also weave my own fabric for clothes, nor grind my own grain for bread, but hey, it's good to know I have the option should I ever be transported in time back to the turn of the last century.)  Apparently, when beans are sprouted, they are more nutritious and easier to digest.  With a digestive tract that's as constantly rebellious as an angry teenager who often screams "You're not the boss of me!" this was highly appealing.

Enter the artist.  I chose my blank canvas: a square, white plate.  The colors are so vibrant in this salad, I didn't want a fancy plate taking away the attention from the food itself.  I carefully arranged the pea shoots, clover, arugula, garbanzo and azuki beans.  (All high in... well... some sort of stuff that's really good for you and is "bioavailable."  A fancy word for easily assimilated.)

Looks like rabbit food, I know. But rabbits
don't die of heart disease, now do they?

Add the purple pyramids to the field of micro greens.

Love the contrast of the white ceramic plate
against the rich, organic colors.

Still needed a little somethin' somethin'.  Here's a hint:  It's easier to digest for lactose intolerant people than anything that comes from a bovine...

An award winning edible canvas of color,
texture and flavor.

I ♥ goats.  And their cheese.  I'd own a goat... if I actually owned dirt and land with grass.  (Perils of condo living - unfulfilled goat owning dreams.)

The pb&j of salads.

A dash of salt, a splash of balsamic vinegar and a drizzle of olive oil and you are ready to open your own trendy, shi-shi, exclusive restaurant with a six month wait list in lower Manhattan.

It's important to note here that roasted beets do not taste like pickled beets you may recall from many a salad bar.  Pickling adds a vinegary, pungent and acidic bite to the beet that roasting avoids.  If you've turned your nose up to beets because you think they'll taste like that, I urge you to give the roasted version an unbiased try.

A great dining endeavor isn't just about how the food tastes.  The saying, "You eat with your eyes first," is especially true to my heart.  Er, eyeballs.  I enjoy plating food every bit as much as cooking and photographing it.  Perhaps it's the artist in me.  Every part of the experience from eyes, to nose, to mouth makes enjoying a gorgeous salad like this extremely memorable... even several months later.