Well, I've gone and done it. I've upset my mother in the potato post, by calling her thick-legged proletariat. Thus, I hereby retract that statement. We were NEVER proletariat. In fact, I believe, we were quite refined, with a set of behavioral rules and a well defined social etiquette. Talking about food as a topic, for example, was in very poor taste. Checking out what someone else was eating was not nice, and noting that it looked gross was just rude. Now, I think beets are good. Tasty root vegetable, sweet, crunchy, happily colored. Around here people are put off by them because they're pink. And when I used to bring borscht, the traditional beet soup, for lunch, invariably, there would someone who'd look in my tupperware, and go, "ewww, that's pink, what is that?" What is borscht? Well, that would depend who you ask. Every cook has a recipe of their own, and every region has their own signature way of making it. For example, the Ukranians make it with...
