I mean, obviously.
But I needed a little prodding yesterday. Not to eat them; I was desperate to do that. We had just returned from a weekend of cupcakes (or as our now-2 year old nephew calls them, “pupcakes”) and comfort food in Michigan. Immediately before that I spent three days on a work trip to Nebraska, the land of beef and apparently very generous servings of wine at the airport bar. I have not seen a Solo cup that full of value-priced wine since grad school.
No, I was so ready for green things I saw mirages of all the vegetables I would eat as the late winter sun flooded our car cruising west on I-94. Danny snoozed in the passenger seat while I lusted after broccoli.
But after grocery shopping and unpacking and laundry and work emails and a pretty urgent come-to-Jesus with my neglected jungle of eyebrows, I stood facing an ocean of vegetables on my countertop, utterly bewildered as to what to do with them.
Enormous raw chopped salad? SO MUCH CHOPPING.
Enormous saute? I looked: I did not have a saute pan nearly large enough for such a task. (I do not think anyone does. We are talking about a LOT of vegetables here.)
Enormous pot of soup? After a winter of vegetable-packed ribollita and other veggie-heavy stews, I concluded I just could not get down with soup again just yet. (Yes, there’s a winter storm on its way tonight. Didn’t you see that I proclaimed weeks ago that winter was pretty much over? Keep laughing.)
Also, I had found my all-time favorite vegetable of all time at the store, and cooking them down seemed a crime.
- Um, they are obviously gorgeous.
- They are young enough that they do not require peeling.
- Their flavor is much sweeter and more robust than your everyday orange carrot. (So much so that my brother once asked, after a forkful of these smooth-talkers, what I had sweetened them with. The answer, of course, was: nothing.)
- Seriously. Those colors, stop it!
- They are quite impressive when roasted.