Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Molly Hogan at Nix the Comfort Zone, HERE. Thank you, Molly, for hosting.
It’s August and I’m inundated on some days with vegetables from my generous neighbor, Mike’s, garden. When he knocks at my door, I know I better clear the afternoon of all planned activities. This week he brought beets, lettuce and squash, just picked. It’s an amazing gift.
I love the beet greens and the roots themselves, but I wonder what kids must think of them. Though pickled beets were served once upon a time in my family restaurant, I was loathe to touch them and didn’t. But, after growing up and trying fresh beets from a garden, well, I changed my tune.
I easily found a kid’s poem written about beets. Here’s the first stanza of a poem by Jack Prelutsky from NEW KID ON THE BLOCK. The full poem is HERE.
I'd Never Eat a Beet by Jack Prelutsky (stanza 1) I'd never eat a beet, because I could not stand the taste, I'd rather nibble drinking straws, or fountain pens, or paste, I'd eat a window curtain and perhaps a roller skate, but a beet, you may be certain would be wasted on my plate.
Vegetables do lend themselves to humor. Did you ever wonder why? If you have a theory why, share it in the comments. Goofy shapes? The Colors? The fact that parents are always trying to get kids to eat them?
The words to the poem below came to mind after roasting some beets today.
BEETS Today my mother peeled some, her hands turned fiery red. I asked, "What are they made of? Mother never said. And every August here they are! Rolling on my plate in a pool of vinegar. Taste them? No, I’ll wait. © Janice Scully 2022
Enjoy the summer, and all sorts of fresh fruit and veggies that grow from the ground and nourish us.
Janice, my husband and I regularly visit a country buffet restaurant in our county. I’ll go to the salad bar while he goes to the hot bar — and he always asks that I bring him back some pickled beets (which I do not care to eat). So yes, some people really do like ’em… xo
Aww… the poor beets! I, too, was an adult who had to grow into beets; now I love them in a salad! I’m thinking veggies get a bum rap because they’re so easy to make fun of — and of course, our children are listening! You never read a “ooh, yuck, it’s pizza” poem!
Hahahaha…I thought your poem was going to be a serious ode to beets, and that last line made me laugh. Not a beet fan myself. I think school cafeterias might have ruined them for me for life, though I’ve never tried fresh ones.
These two poems pair so well together, Janice! They made me smile. We used to grow beets. I was so sad when the bunnies got them that I gave up.
Well, someone has to love beets, and I admit that I DO! As a matter of fact, we just tried a (silly) experiment, baking beets in an old dutch oven on my driveway, the outdoor temperature being 101F. Haha. Just had to try it. Well… They didn’t cook enough, so today they’re on a grill in the dutch oven, and the smallest one is definitely done! I’ll check the other two shortly. I can eat them any way you please, but I love beet pickles. My mother occasionally cooked beet greens and I liked them even as a child. Now… if you talk about asparagus… that’s another story.
On the driveway! Wow! They do need a lot of cooking. I grew to love them when I finally had fresh ones, not canned! And I love asparagus roasted. 🙂
Both of these poems are dashingly wonderful and filled me with smiles! I love beets–bottoms and tops, unfortunately I can’t eat them, ah well, thanks for all Janice!
I love the light-hearted fun of both of these poems even though I adore beets. Yum! Yum! Yum! I mostly prefer them roasted, but I’ll eat them any which way. All my kids love them, too. Looking back, I have such strong memories of my mother’s pickled eggs and beets. (What a weird combo! Whoever thought of that one?) Those purple eggs won me over every time. I’m heading to the farmer’s market soon and might have to see what the beet selection looks like. Thanks for the smiles from both poems!
Ha! On my most recent trip, I got to see recipe books kept by my Great-Grandmother. My sister, back east, begged me for her pickled beet recipe. I don’t know how my sister seems to love every food I ever hated but beets is definitely at the top of the list. Ewwwww. Maybe I need to try some fresh from Mike’s garden. And, I need to try a nibble of a beet instead of being asked to clear my plate of a no thank you portion. I love the idea at the finish of your poem…I’ll wait.
I love all things beet, and have since childhood…well, except for the greens. Mom never cooked them, so I had to discover that one on my own. Pickled or fresh, in salads or on the side, give me a double serving if you don’t like them! Love the two poems, but I hope they don’t encourage kids to shy away from my favorite red root!
Because my dad didn’t like them, my mom didn’t serve them, so I was an adult when I learned of the glories of beets, all ways! Curiously I haven’t tried beet greens. Both the poems cleverly take the mickey out of beets–unfairly if you ask me–and I guess vegetables do become the butt of jokes for kids because they’re widely despised? Off to write an ode to beets…
Your poem is a wonderful ‘up beet’ take on the ‘down beet’ reputation of the beet, Janice. (I’ve never actually tried a beet… :0 )
Janice, your poem is the perfect companion to Prelutzky’s. My husband loves pickled beets, but they are wasted on my plate. 🙂