rutabagas

I can procrastinate no longer - - I've tried to push it out of my mind, to forget it, but it keeps creeping back into my consciousness like dark icy slugs, leaving disgusting slime trails of remembrance. These words will be my catharsis, a purgation of the jumbled emotions about the subject I've been trying to avoid - - - rutabagas!!

It's name is derived from the French, meaning, "root bag", and is similar to the turnip except larger and with yellow flesh. It can be grated or sliced raw in salads, cooked several ways and though it's hard to believe, it can be used in recipes for fritters, stir-fry, pancakes, casseroles, soups, pies, cakes and puddings. (I'm feeling better already!)

We could teach children to love this veggie (like in a hundred years) if we started them young enough (before birth) and if we mix it with equal parts of sugar and coat it with chocolate.

But let's go deeper into this rutabaga subject - - What is the emotional profile of those that eat them and why do they do it? I don't know!!

Is there a country that uses this vegetable as a money substitute and what method of transporting them could be used to make a large purchase? Is there a commodities market that deals in rutabagas? If so it would hard to corner that market since they are round.

Is there a small candy company in Texas that makes chocolate covered rutabaga chunks? That would be a delightful confection with just a hint of - - - something different. Does anyone make rutabaga wine - the one with that "down to earth" flavor?

Could there be a child, somewhere in the world, when dreaming at Christmas that would have rutabagas dancing in their head instead of sugarplums?

I feel much relieved by having written this - - knowing that I now have others sharing my rutabaga concerns. If I were reading this to you, you would be able to hear the concern in my voice - along with other obvious things.

If you find answers to any of these disturbing questions, please feel free to enlighten me by your insights. ec