Two nights ago, I made the rutabaga.
And this is how it went:
I started about two hours and fifteen minutes before I wanted to eat dinner. Everyone says it’s really hard to peel and chop. The girls sat across from me coloring on the small counter where they could still see what was happening. Thankfully, the ordeal kept them entertained the whole time.
Peeling wasn’t actually so hard; it took me twelve minutes. And I’m sure I didn’t use the right kind of knife.
Chopping? Took forty-five minutes. Again, not with a good knife or skilled knife-user. I could never get a big enough chunk off to really chop, so it was just a glorified peeling of the whole thing. I would see a little piece sticking out and cut that off. Turn it and find another place sticking out. It got faster as I went, but my first finger was completely numb by the time I was finished. (not recommended for pianists)
But the good news was, it cooked just fine in all of it’s odd shapes and non-chunkiness.
I added three chopped potatoes to the pot and covered it all in water.
After salting it generously, I let it boil for around thirty minutes. It was definitely tender.
So I drained it and threw a stick of butter in to let it melt. (When I say butter, I actually mean Blue Bonnet. Whatever kind of imitation butter that is.)
I warmed up a cup of half-and-half for a minute on 50% power in the microwave. Added that, more salt, pepper, and a little bacon grease.
Then I ate all the bacon that I had cooked as a reward for all my hard work.
After that, you know the drill… mash it, or beat it until it’s nice and fluffy.
Sophia and Paul loved it.
Hope, Gracie, Mckayla and I tolerated it.
Rutabaga tastes a little bit like turnips to me. (Bleck: turnips are definitely the least favorite properly prepared thing I’ve ever put in my mouth!) However, these really weren’t bad! I passed them up for leftovers this afternoon, but had no problem eating them when they were fresh.
Hope’s reaction cracked me up. (Since it was her idea to buy a rutabaga anyway.) Trying to be polite, when I asked her if she liked it she said, “Well, not nes-arily. I mean it’s not like as bad as asparagus, but it’s not as good as peas and chicken. You know, I mean, like it’s okay. I can eat it.”
If I make it again, I’ll probably add more potatoes. A lot of recipes I looked at said to make the potato/rutabaga ratio equal.
Here are the pictures I got.
The in not-so-beauty shot.