Beetroots aren’t something I’ve ever really got to grips with. I used to eat those pickled ones as a kid, and they were tasty enough, but they had the downside of tinging your wee a disconcerting red. Something that panicked me when I first noticed it aged about seven. It wasn’t until much later when the red root started appearing on a few restaurant menus, in veggie crisps and at foodie friends houses, that I started to think about it as something other than a slightly squishy sweet-sharp ball that came vacuum packed from Tesco.

What really opened my eyes, after a few desultory attempts to roast it, was when somebody served a beetroot and chocolate cake. (more…)