I pulled a bunch of tiny beetroot from the ground this week that had the deepest, sweetest, most earthy flavour yet. They were mid-season "thinnings" to give the others a chance to bulk up, but I also guess that the lack of rain that has reduced the size of many of the vegetables has also concentrated their flavour.
I have developed something approaching watering- can elbow. Every bowl of water from washing the salad or rinsing a root vegetable gets tipped into the watering can for use outside. An all-too-short wet morning earlier in the week saw me putting every available receptacle outside to collect the precious drops falling steadily from the sky. Yes, the hosepipe goes on too, but only for real emergencies.
The beetroot's leaves were the first things in the pot. Twisted off within 10 minutes of getting them into the kitchen, they got a quick rinse before being slipped into a shallow pan with only the thinnest film of water and were brought quickly to the boil. Covered with a tight lid, the leaves relaxed in seconds, were then drained and returned to the pan for a quick toss in lemon juice and olive oil. I could have used butter – it helps to reduce the fuzzy effect they can have on your teeth, like spinach.
Had the leaves been slightly smaller they might have ended up in a salad. I sometimes use them with a goat's yogurt dressing (a riff on the contemporary beetroot and goat's cheese combination) and some toasted cubes of bread. Chives are in there, too, and occasionally some sort of crisp apple or maybe some grapes, either of which is as happy with beet leaves as they are with spinach. A salad like that needs some soft, seed-freckled bread to go with it.
The beets themselves got a roasting. A high oven, the black-red globes under a lid of kitchen foil, they spent an hour baking till their flesh would easily take the point of a skewer. Skinned – the outer layer just slips off when you rub your thumb over the surface – and sliced into thick segments, the beets were mixed with squeaky grilled halloumi and a warm dressing of nut oil and balsamic vinegar. We ate them with grilled lamb.
Hot beetroot has a place as a side dish, too. I sometimes boil them, peel and then blitz with a potato masher to give a wine-coloured mash. It works with flash-fried liver and oily fish such as mackerel. A few caraway seeds will add a warm, nutty quality with a Scandinavian note.
If the weather cools, you can bake them in cream in the style of a potato Dauphinoise. Colour aside – it often errs towards kinky pink – this is a very fine accompaniment to roast beef.
Most of the beetroot that finish up in my kitchen end their days grated. I like the refreshing crunch and the seemingly healthy note of raw beets reduced to a tangle of shreds. They get a handful of dill, a few capers and always a shot of lemon juice. If there is any around, some blood orange juice will inject an even brighter tune into what has become one of my all-time favourite salads. Try it aside garlicky lamb koftas.
Beet leaf salad with yogurt and sultanas
Grapes could be good here if sultanas or raisins are not your thing.
Serves 4 as a side dish.
the leaves from 8 beetroots
1 lemon
1 tbsp olive oil
For the goat's yogurt dressing:
200ml thick natural yogurt, preferably goat's
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp lemon zest, grated
a handful of golden sultanas or raisins
Put the yoghurt into a small bowl. Beat in the olive oil, a little salt, some black pepper, then the grated lemon zest.
Halve and squeeze the lemon and set the juice aside. Stir in the sultanas or raisins and set aside.
Remove the leaves and their stalks from the beetroots. Rinse thoroughly to remove any grit and check for any less-than-perfect leaves. Warm a very shallow layer of water in a shallow pan to which you have a lid. Put the leaves in the pan, curling them round if they are too long to fit. Cover with a lid and leave to steam for 2 or 3 minutes until the leaves have wilted but still retain their bright colours.
Drain the beetroot leaves, squeezing as much water from them as you can without crushing them (the back of a large spoon helps here.) Warm the tablespoon of olive oil in the pan over a moderate heat.
Return the leaves to the pan – whole or roughly chopped as you wish – and pour in a tablespoon or two of the lemon juice. Put the leaves on a serving dish, spoon over the pan juices, then spoon over the goat's yogurt dressing. A little more lemon zest and some black pepper can be added if you wish.
Grilled halloumi
Serves 4 as a light lunch, with sesame bread
8 small beetroot, no larger than a tennis ball
250g halloumi cheese
a tbsp or so of chopped chives
For the dressing:
the juice of half a lemon
a tsp balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp walnut oil
a tsp coriander seeds
to serve warm sesame bread
Set the oven at 200C/gas mark 6. Trim the beetroot of any leaves, taking care not to cut or tear the skin. Rinse the beets well under running water, then put them in a roasting tin or baking dish. Season with salt and black pepper then cover the tin tightly with foil. (You could wrap each beetroot individually if you prefer.) Bake for 45 minutes or until you can insert a metal skewer with little pressure. Remove and set aside.
Squeeze the lemon juice into a small bowl, add a pinch of salt and stir to dissolve. Trickle in the balsamic vinegar and then the olive and walnut oils, beating as you go. Grind in a little back pepper.
Toast the coriander seeds in a dry frying pan for 3 or 4 minutes till fragrant. Crust them lightly in a pestle and mortar or with the back of a heavy spoon, then stir into the dressing and set aside.
Skin the beets by pushing at the skin with your thumbs till the skin slides cleanly off. Cut the cooked beetroots into thick segments, six or eight per beet, then add to the dressing. Toss gently, then pile in the centre of a serving plate, leaving a little dressing behind in the bowl.
Cut the halloumi into thick slices and fry or grill it, without any oil, until it starts to slightly soften. Lay the warm cheese on the beetroot and trickle over the last few drops of dressing. Scatter with the chopped chives and serve.
Email Nigel at nigel.slater@observer.co.uk or visit guardian.co.uk/profile/nigelslater for all his recipes in one place
