Shallot I compare thee to an onion today?
Thou are smaller, and more garlicky.
Tough skins may your preparation time delay,
and fruit inside be all too short for me.
But shallot, I don’t begrudge you those skins, really I don’t. As another poet likes to say, allium God’s children need traveling shoes as they make the trek from farm to table.
And once I peeled and minced my way to a couple tablespoons of your sweet shallotty insides, and tossed you into the pan with a little olive oil? You rewarded the work, first with a smell so delectable I wanted to lick the air, and then with a taste that was like an onion’s delicate cousin.
The shallots in my Greenling box this week weren’t the prettiest I’ve ever seen, but fresh and local beats fancy and far-flung when it comes to food. I’ve used them in fried rice and a pasta dish, and still have a couple left, which I think I’ll use to dress up some frozen peas I have hanging around in this recipe.
Any veggies making you feel poetic this week? Share a link if you’ve got it.