I love pickled beets. They are like my fav. But only within the last four or five years. I used to hate them. But only because I never had the balls to try them. You see, for as much as I like food, I grew up pretty picky. It wasn't until I met Stephen that I started trying new foods like beets and tomatoes so that he would think I was cool.



We made pickled beets two years ago. Stephen found a recipe with cloves, which made my mouth go numb for some reason. Stephen's grandmother grows a huge garden on her farm in Castleford, Idaho each year. When she found out that he had added cloves to his beets, she set his foolish ass straight. No one with any sense puts cloves in their beets!

So this year we used her recipe. I can already tell that the beets are going to taste much better and no strange numbness. I helped this year, too. I picked all the beets and put them next to the sink. I know, call me a farm girl, quick!

Stephen took care of the rest. We only got five jars total. I was a little disappointed. I thought our harvest would have yielded at least 10 jars. Now there is no sharing - too bad for you.



Stephen tried to dye a remnant of white fabric with the beet juice. It didn't work. I imagine he needed some vinegar or something, like when you dye Easter eggs. I know this because I have imaginary farm girl skills.

I also made sauteed beet greens using this recipe. They were fairly delicious. Eatable at least.