Beautiful days like we've been having make me want to check out the produce market.
Personally, I don't care for beets; dead beets I can't stomach. More than any other vegetable that is uprooted from its comfortable complacency, bad beets really stink. Yet, they often feel the need to appear at family get-togethers adding little more than color.
Funny that you should even look for dead beets at a produce place, as all they have to deliver is a stained reputation. They claim the right to reproduce while loathing repossession, which, to me, is just a lot of borsch. It's a crime that dead beets are only beaten down and not beaten up.
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I know that some companies think it's just easier to write off the dead beet as a loss, but that doesn't help the disallusioned patron who was counting on it. Don't even get me started on the Navy variety which can defile as many ports-of-call that they can visit.
Call me silly but I think that dead beets should be outlawed. But I would consider it a start if I never had to look at, let alone deal with, another dead beet again.
