hasselback beet

Welcome back, boys. I hope you've gotten some rest this weekend, because you're gonna need it for today's disgrace. I've got a blood test I've been studying hard for later this morning, so this entry is brought to you sans-caffiene. God help us all.

If you're a human being living in the United States, chances are you've heard of a little something called "Thanksgiving." Thanksgiving is a fake holiday. It's loud, expensive, smelly, and idolizes a group of people who, in so many ways, were fucking awful, which is not a very popular opinion where I'm from; if my mom were here, she would say that this is why I have no friends. As a neophyte in the vegan blogosphere, however, I do feel some pressure to conform and come up with a slew of holiday recipes like every other person on the internet, so, in an earnest effort to not rock the boat, I've decided to go with the tide on this one. Follow the crowd, maybe. Drink the gravy, so to speak. I figured, what better way to celebrate genocide than with a brand new theme week?

I've dubbed the next five days T-Week. What's the "T" stand for, you may ask? Whatever the hell you want it to, pal. Our first offering is a modern twist on a Swedish classic, a hasselback beet. This will serve as one of our sides for the holiday season.

one large beet, washed and peeled

one tablespoon of olive oil

one teaspoon of garlic powder

one teaspoon of salt

one teaspoon of pepper

Has this territory ever been breached by vegan hands before? Am I a trailblazer, or just another face in a herd of cattle?

For those of you who do not know what a hasselback potato is, this probably already looks ridiculous. This is not some avant-garde performance I'm inserting into the middle of the recipe for no reason. There is indeed a method to the madness.

Basically, to hasselback a spud is to cut the top 90% of it into thin slices which are still connected at the bottom and then brushing seasoned oil into all of its crevasses. As it cooks, the chopped part will wilt down into soft, delicate frills, like some unholy hybrid between french fries and a baked potato. It's delightful. It's a delightful thing to make and eat. However, I already had a potato side dish planned for the week and you people know how I feel about redundancy. So, the beet it is.

To explain the double-knife situation you just saw: the handles serve as a failsafe, preventing you from cutting the beet all the way through and ruining the fucking Thanksgiving meal. Not today. Not on my board.

Oh, that's gruesome; he looks wounded. Just as bad as the pomegranates.

Tuck the beet away in a foil pouch. Preheat your oven to 375° and stick it in there for a good forty-five minutes before you uncover it. Give it about twelve more minutes to crisp up.

Oh hell yeah. This is exactly what you want to see; tender on the inside, and like big, fat potato chips on top. It's the perfect vessel to soak up dressing, holiday pan-drippings, or cock sauce, which is the way I prefer to eat it. This beet was a monster, at least double the size of my fist. The ham in me remembers this afternoon fondly.

It's a side dish that will feel at home on any festive platter, but don't let that stop you from enjoying it on a day where you do not eat and drink with loved ones in the name of evil men and their misdeeds. For example, this thing tastes great on a bed of leafy greens. Bring it along with you to work for a lunch you shan't soon forget.