And some of it wants to be borscht, dammit. And I have no time.
I have celeriac and beets and tiny potatoes and tiny sweet potatoes and parsnips and carrots and red cabbage and delicata squash and butternut squash and winter greens and no time to eat any of it.
Also, my good knives are still at the Grinch's shop at the North Pole. It's like an itch.
Next Thursday, little vegetable drawer. Thursday. You and me. We're going to have some fun together.
And I'm probably going to make Chaz's tiny potato salad for the Xmas eve open house thingy, and maybe I will just make a damned pot of borscht, even with the bad knives. I've cooked with worse and it's seasonal, dammit. Though I'll have to get more garlic.