Sweet and Tangy Beets -- What I Bring When I Don’t Know What Else to Do

Karen's tremors have worsened significantly. Her neurologist increases her medication and recommends physical therapy. Karen is frustrated — she can no longer knit, her lifelong hobby. Stephanie starts visiting Bellevue weekly, bringing meals that are easy for Karen to eat. David

The Capitol Hill apartment kitchen is small. We make it work.

David came over for Sunday dinner. He brought some tomatoes from the Bellevue garden.

The newsletter went out Sunday morning. The opening sentence took an hour. The piece took five. The piece was what it needed to be.

The kimchi crock was bubbling Saturday morning when I checked. The bubbling is the right bubbling. The fermentation knew what it was doing.

Rain on the porch all afternoon Saturday. The Wallingford rain is its own weather. I sat with a book and a tea and did not move for two hours.

My Korean is improving. Slowly. Painfully. Conversationally adequate now. I can argue about kimchi proportions in two languages, which is a milestone in any marriage between mother and daughter.

Sprint review at Amazon Friday. Two hours. I could have been on a podcast.

I sat at the kitchen counter at six AM with a notebook and a cup of green tea. Writing time before the house wakes. The pre-light hour is the only writing hour I trust.

Reading at night. A novel by a Korean-American writer about a family in 1990s LA. I underlined four sentences. The underlining is the marking-of-the-territory of the soul.

Therapy Tuesday with Dr. Kim. We talked about the parents — the two sets, the one living, the one gone, the one who became real after thirty years and the one who was real my whole life and is now gone. The work is the layered work.

Sunday farmers market on Wallingford Avenue. The kabocha at the Asian vendor's stall. The shishito peppers. The brokered conversation. We bought too much. We always do.

The shiso on the south fence is fragrant and unruly. I brushed past it taking the compost out and the smell stopped me. The smell is the country. The smell is Jisoo's apartment.

I texted Jisoo a photo of the kimchi in the new onggi pot. She replied with the thumb-up emoji and a Korean-language critique. The duality is the gift.

James and I had date night Friday. Indian restaurant on 45th. We ate too much. We sat in the car after talking about nothing for an hour. The marriage is the marriage.

I made coffee at seven. Hana ate cereal at seven-fifteen. Min wandered down at seven-twenty-five. James left for work at eight. The morning was the morning. The standard.

A blog reader wrote about her own adoptee experience. We exchanged three emails this week.

Hana left a Lego on the kitchen floor. I stepped on it at two AM. Standard.

Yoga Tuesday morning at the studio. The forward fold released something I had been carrying in the shoulder. The mat is the mat.

I read a thread on the Korean Adoptee subreddit Saturday. Some posts brought up old anger. Most are people figuring it out in real time. We are not unique. We are a community.

Jisoo sent a photo of the dol the kids did for our visit last summer. The photo went on the fridge.

I picked up beets at the Wallingford farmers market on a Sunday when I already knew I’d be driving to Bellevue that week — Karen’s hands have been bad enough that a fork is a negotiation, and I wanted something she could eat without a fight. Sweet and tangy beets are soft, manageable, and they hold in the fridge for days, which matters when I can’t always time the visit. There is a particular helplessness in watching someone’s hands fail them when those hands used to make things — I can’t fix the tremors, but I can bring food that doesn’t ask anything hard of her. This is that food.

Sweet and Tangy Beets

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs fresh beets (about 4 medium), scrubbed and trimmed
• 3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
• 2 tablespoons honey
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
• 1 small shallot, thinly sliced
• Fresh parsley or dill, chopped, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

1. Roast the beets. Preheat oven to 400°F. Wrap each beet individually in foil and place on a baking sheet. Roast for 40–50 minutes, until a knife slides through with no resistance. Let cool in the foil for 10 minutes.
2. Peel and slice. Once cool enough to handle, rub the skins off with a paper towel or your hands (gloves help with staining). Slice beets into 1/4-inch rounds or cut into wedges.
3. Make the dressing. Whisk together the apple cider vinegar, honey, olive oil, Dijon mustard, salt, and pepper in a small bowl until combined.
4. Dress and rest. Place sliced beets and shallot in a shallow bowl or container. Pour dressing over and toss gently. Let sit at least 10 minutes before serving so the beets absorb the flavor. They improve the longer they sit.
5. Serve or store. Garnish with fresh parsley or dill if using. Serve warm, at room temperature, or cold. Store covered in the refrigerator up to 4 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 110 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 200mg