I am from Portland, Oregon. I love my hometown. It’s a wonderful place. It has a ton of beautiful green trees and colorful flowers thanks to all of the rain. It’s called the City of Roses for a very good reason.
It also has fabulous food. In fact, I have recently found out that there is great gluten free food all over the place there. I really need to get into town and try some the next time I am up there.
I, also, love how many galleries are all around. I miss First Thursdays. Gallery hopping and wine drinking all evening on the first Thursday of every month.
Then there is my favorite: all of the professional sports teams.
Oh, wait a second. Never mind. Wrong city.
They do have a professional basketball team, but I haven’t followed the NBA since the strike in the 90s.
Portland does have a fabulous junior hockey team, the Winterhawks. Whenever I wear my hat, people think I am rooting for the Chicago Blackhawks. But pro teams? Nope.
But the good thing for me is that I married a man from Pittsburgh, so I inherited a bunch of pro teams to root for. And, to top it off, they’re winners. (We are not going to mention the Pirates.) But, I can’t be accused of jumping on a winning team bandwagon, since I had no choice in the matter.
Ok, ok, it didn’t work this year. Or maybe they didn’t have enough of it. But it sure worked last year.
Plus, we had a ton of different vegetables from our CSA left since I was gone for three days at the CDF Conference. It just so happens that we had everything we needed.
Now, what was different about this food experiment was that it wasn’t me doing it. The Big Man decided he was going to be the one to tackle it after his brother sent him the recipe.
So one day when I was working in our basement office, the Big Man was upstairs, slaving away in the kitchen and watching the Little Man. It seemed like a lot of preparation time, but there was also a lot of asking me where things were and what I thought about certain steps.
All was going pretty well until I heard, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”
So, I went upstairs.
But the Big Man was all over it.He said the Little Man was getting a hold of things off the counter, so he was having to “catch” a lot. He keeps forgetting how big our child is getting. Those not-so-little fingers can reach pretty far on the counter, now.
Anyway, by the time I got upstairs, this was waiting for me.
It was really tasty, and I am NOT a fan of beets. This was how it looked as we dressed it with the required, and always loved, sour cream.
The only issue was that it seemed to take an awful long time.
But that could also be because the Big Man was having to chase around and play with the Little Man. We are thinking of trying it again this week, but this time we are going to tweak it a little and do it in the crockpot.
We got more beets from our CSA, and I just cannot abide by beets. Nope!
I’ll let you know how it goes. If it goes well, you will get a crockpot Borscht recipe.
Until then, here’s to… Living better, easily! ™