Up where my grandparents live, on the north shore of Lake Superior in Minnesota (more simply, “the North Shore”), I am unfailingly happy. It’s the kind of place where the landscape is stunningly beautiful—papery birch trees, rocky cliffs, rushing streams and that big, gorgeous lake—and the people are unflinchingly real. Nearly everybody knows everybody and they cut to the chase.
See what I mean?
I’ve been to the North Shore countless times in my life and one of my least favorite parts about living in Chicago is the difficulty of getting there. But we still manage to make the trip at least once a summer and I’m always so glad we did. This year, especially, there was so much good stuff—and I’m not just talking about my previously mentioned co-championship.
Since we last saw my grandparents, my grandpa had a health scare and, even though everyone assured me that he was fine, I still worried. Hospitals and ambulances, it seems, make a granddaughter uneasy. I had to see him for myself—to feel his long arms wrapped around me in his trademark hug: good and firm, punctuated with a little shake. Following the hug, I eyed his garden, which was absolutely bursting. If the yield in that little plot was any indication, everyone was right: he was fine.
He put me right to work when I arrived (further evidence he was just fine), charging me with plucking the deep red raspberries from the bushes that fill the last row of his garden. I waded among corn stalks nearly as tall as I am to pick the berries in one half of the garden, while my grandpa picked the other half, whistling softly. Afterward, as we popped a few of the berries in our mouths, he proudly pointed out the zucchini blossoms, peas, and blooming heads of cabbage. In another plot, a thin strip alongside the house, leafy carrot tops spilled into the lawn right next to a few caged tomato plants, sporting mostly still-green rounds, and a tuft of leafy green lettuce.
On the other side of the carrots was a spray of broad green leaves striped with magenta streaks. I knew immediately what hid beneath the greens and confirmed my hunch when I pushed back the leaves to find the dark purple shoulders of beets shrugging up out of the soil. My grandpa casually mentioned that we could have some of the beets for dinner the next night. Thrilled, I asked—wide-eyed—if I could pull the beets myself.
“Well, sure,” he replied, clearly amused at my awe over such a routine garden task. So, the next afternoon, I gripped a handful of those magenta-striped leaves and gave a little tug, loosing a few bulbs from the earth. So cool.
After severing (but saving) the greens (they like to cook them with a little bacon), we cooked the beets up, slipped off their skins and tossed them with a couple dabs of goat cheese, a stream of olive oil and a handful of chopped pistachios. After a bite, my grandpa gave me a little wink across the table. He’d planted the beets and coaxed them into life, but I’d pulled them from the ground and dressed them up a bit.
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We’d made the dish together, which was just fine.
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Beets with Goat Cheese and Pistachios
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3-5 beets, depending on size
2 ounces goat cheese
1/2 cup shelled pistachios, chopped
extra virgin olive oil, to taste
sea or kosher salt, to taste
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Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place the beets (scrubbed and trimmed) in a baking dish and fill the bottom of the dish with about an inch of water. Tightly cover the dish with aluminum foil and, once the oven is preheated, bake for 45 minutes (or longer, if your beets are large). Remove the dish from the oven, carefully unseal the dish and drain the water. Allow the beets to cool until you can handle them.
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Wearing plastic gloves or using paper towels, carefully rub the skins off the beets; the skins should easily slip off the beets. Cut the peeled beets into wedges and transfer the wedges to a large bowl. Stir in the goat cheese and pistachios. Add the olive oil, to taste (start with a tablespoon, taste and add more if you’d like). Add salt, to taste (this will really vary, depending on the saltiness of your pistachios).
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Transfer the dressed beets to a platter to serve. This dish can be served warm, at room temperature or chilled.
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What a lovely story. You lead a charmed life.
What a beautiful story, and gorgeous garden photos. I think gently tugging beets out of the ground is one of the best garden tasks, too.
Oh my god, my mouth is watering. This looks so simple and fantastic
Oh my, that is beautiful!
what a wonderful story, brought tears to my eyes. grandparents are so amazing. i always liked feeding the chickens when i was little.
so wonderful when you actually pull them from the ground yourself
ps, the milkshake picture? a dream.
must. go. get. beets. stat!
This looks so Delish! I just had a roasted beet salad with goat cheese in Charleston and fell in love. I think I just did again.
just bought a couple bunches of beets at the farmers market today and very excited to roast them! although i wish i could’ve tugged them out of the ground like you did!
I can’t imagine having grandparents that have such an amazing garden. So amazing.
I feel in love with beets this year. I can’t believe that I was missing them all of these years.
This post is heartwarming. You have quite a delightful family. What a treat it must be to garden together and dine on a rewarding bounty through a gorgeous recipe like this one.
Wow, I was wondering what to do with my beets, now I know. Looks amazing! You got to love a good hugger!
I love your MN pictures and your story. This makes me miss MN and my grandparents. Making time is always worth it! Thank you for sharing.
Every time I read one of your entries, I wonder if you are a professional writer. Are you? If not, please write a book like a memoir of your growing up in Minnesota and your family and your grandparents.
This may sound wierd, but from your entires, I think of the people you write about as characters not unlike those I enjoyed in Anne of Green Gables or Little House on the Prairie.
So write! You have a book in you!
I’ll say it here as that salad looks amazing, and this story is the sweetest thing I’ve read all day. But I also wanted to tell you how wonderful I thought your photos were from you co-championship. It not only captured a moment, but captured your family as well. So many stories told by those hands. Beautiful stuff.
What a nice post, and that salad looks great. It’s inspiring me to do the same with the beets in my fridge.
I love love love beets with goat cheese. Your addition of pistachios sounds lovely! How wonderful to have gardening grandparents!
What a wonderful surprise to see pictures of my hometown when searching out new recipes for beets. Glad you love our area as much as I do. Beautiful photographs and a great story.
This was a joy to read. Beautiful pictures, as always.
What a beautiful dish and lovely photos! I’m glad to hear that you grandfather is doing okay.
I love the North Shore! Have you ever been to the Scenic Cafe, about 20 minutes north of Duluth? It is one of my favorite restaurants!
Beautiful garden. Mine has almost bit the dust but seeing his makes me a little more interested in going at it again next year.
That salad is basically my dream food combination
And your visit looks like so much fun!! I’m glad your grandfather is OK 
I certainly recognize the liftbridge and Fitger’s in Duluth in your photo’s. I’m just south of Minneapolis. My husband and I got married in Duluth and try to spend time up there. We bring our bikes and stay at Fitger’s, their service is impeccable! Lovely trails to ride. It’s all so beautiful and fresh up North.
This recipe sounds fantastic. I’ve been searching for some interesting beet recipes to try ever since my friend passed some on to me from his garden. I’m sure the pistachios add a lovely texture element to the soft beets and cheese. Lucky for me, we are having a shopping bag challenge, and many people have replied with requests for beets!!
http://www.biggirlssmallkitchen.com/2009/08/whats-in-bag-we-have-banner.html
would love to know what you’re cooking with this week!
My grandfather is from International Falls, he makes us a very similar pancake that always brings the family together. I am glad someone else gets to have the grandpa cooking experience.
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