Discover a New Recipe

How do you get a room full of kids (and their reluctant cooking teacher) to eat their just-harvested beets? Whirl them into some homemade hummus! When I was invited to cook with a group of students from SCRATCH, a community garden program focusing on youth who bring their farm to the table, I couldn't believe my luck. They arrived with about a bushel of beets which we scrubbed and roasted and then let the food processor do the work of turning our golden hummus into a hot pink discovery. Then it disappeared just as magically. These happy growers are amazing kitchen hands and I can't wait to see what they harvest next. Happy Cooking!

Hot Pink Hummus

We made a double batch of classic hummus, then scooped out half and added the beets to the processor. A couple of swirls of the machine and gold turned to the most amazing pink

• 2 cloves garlic, peeled
• 1 (15-ounce) can chick peas, drained and rinsed
• zest and juice of 1 lemon
• 1/2 cup boiling water
• 2 tablespoons olive oil, plus extra for storing
• 1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
• 2 small beets, roasted until tender and peeled

PULSE the garlic in a food processor to mince. Add the drained chick peas, lemon zest and juice and boiling water. Blend for 3 minutes, scraping the side of the container after 1 minute. Add the olive oil, salt, and beets and blend until smooth. Transfer to an airtight container and drizzle the top with a bit of olive oil to keep from drying out. Refrigerate for up to 1 week

Sunshine in a Glass

Fresh squeezed OJ is nature's gift to get us through the dark days of Winter. It will fix what ails you, just sweet enough and rich with pulp, it's like drinking sunshine. Growing up on the East Coast of Central Florida, sandwiched between the warm Atlantic Ocean and miles upon miles of citrus groves, fresh squeezed OJ was a weekly ritual at our house. On Sundays, we would stop at a roadside stand to buy our supply of fresh citrus. I still remember the simple sign "Juicing Oranges" and a farmer in his Sunday overalls and fedora would load a bulging brown grocery sack into the back of our station wagon. At home, we cut them in half and took turns squeezing a bushel of golden fruit. The pulp and tiny seeds escaped from the juicer into the pitcher and into each awaiting glass. I just picked up a sack of Florida oranges in my West Virginia grocery store. I am ready for Winter.