Dear readers,
This blog has been taken over. Ahu‘s dad here.
Not to worry, though.
Your craving for luscious photographs and one of a kind recipes shall once again be satisfied in the not too distant future, but in the meantime, sit back, close your eyes and lend me your ears, as I would like to tell you a story about Cinderella.
This princess, though, does not wear glass slippers.
Her humble, bland, almost pasty appearance develops underground from whence her bulbous form is pulled unceremoniously by the roots of her green hair. Released from imprisonment, she reposes triumphantly in a mound of dirt, a lavender colored torso gradually fading and tapering into a long white tail. But before she can savor her freedom, she is in short order:
- beheaded,
- skinned,
- chopped up into rectangular pieces,
- stuffed and wedged into a glass enclosure,
- and finally, drowned in a briny bath.
Is this any way to treat a royal, you may ask? Where’s the ceremony? The pomp? The circumstance?
Funny you should mention circumstance, because it so happens that jammed in between the pallid remains of Stickorella is a princely beet. A beet that, over the course of the next few days, will graciously spread its rich, deep, mesmerizing color and bestow its surroundings with a rosy hue.
You realize, of course, we are speaking of m’khalela.
Mm’ wha?
My apologies. Otherwise known as pickled turnips.
A sight that makes my mouth water with anticipation of the salty, briny taste and crunchy, turnipy texture. A memory that was brought back to me recently, when I attended a dinner with my two children at a Middle Eastern restaurant. Like running into a long lost friend, the sight of the beautiful royal wedges spread on a white porcelain dish brought back a rush of memories, recounted several times over to the dismay of my daughter and son. Suffice it to say that I ate every single one, ordered another plate, and finally walked home with a two pound tub that was later devoured in a few days.
And so, let me introduce you to the royal turnip (photos and recipe courtesy of David Lebovitz). May you enjoy them as much as I do.
Thanks for this introduction, Mr. Shahrabani! Turnips are just in season here so I will give this a go!
Hello, Ahu’s dad! what a great story and it makes me eager to try pickled turnips very soon!
Why are fairy tales always so violent? Oh I know, so we can eat the hero. GREG