The general rule of thumb is to never go into a supermarket hungry. Well, that’s what I did earlier this week, and predictably I emerged with a food item that was perhaps not the most practical purchase of all time: a horseradish root. To be fair, I truly enjoy horseradish, and I’d wanted to make it ever since my mom told me how a few years ago, but I never got around to whipping up the lethal condiment because, well, there was never really any good reason for it. What am I going to do? Make a batch of horseradish for the fun of it? Well, turns out the answer is yes.
With hunger pangs overwhelming my better judgment, I decided that some fresh horseradish would be a LOVELY thing to make, even if it had limited applications. I procured the notorious tuber, fetched some vinegar, and then set off to make what would be a rather torturous dish. Tears and discomfort ensued…
Before I get into this, I should add that when it comes to this dish, my family endures/loves a particularly harsh brand of horseradish: my Grandma Sylvia’s home brew. It’s not for the faint of heart, and anyone who attends Passover with the Mandelkers learns this very quickly. Grandma Sylvia’s horseradish will destroy you, but that’s half the fun. Unlike store-bought variations (or even the recipe attached to the horseradish root), there are no fillers in the recipe. It’s just straight-up horseradish with a little bit of liquid to keep things loose and fun. And that’s the way we like it, dammit. If you decide to make this at home, be advised that this is actually dangerous stuff. You could quite literally DIE if you eat too much all at once. Taken in moderation, however, you’ll merely feel an intense burning through your entire nasal passage  sort of like you’ve been doused with some sort of evil nerve gas on 24. It’s really quite delightful. Behold:
Things start off with a humble horseradish root. You’d never think this bad boy would be able to slay armies, but it can.
First step is to peel the skin. This process is a bitch, especially if you have a weak peeler like I do. As you can see, I had to upgrade to paring knife, and when that failed, I moved onto the Big Knife. Eventually, I triumphed.
A large dice ensued. I don’t know why my peeler was still out. Maybe I wanted the company.
Next, I drop the diced root into a blender with vinegar some water, and a pinch of sugar. That’s it.
Let the blending begin!
About a minute later, I had horseradish! There was slightly too much liquid; so I had to drain it a bit. Note to self: add the liquid in batches next time.
As I empty the horseradish into a container, the fumes assault me. It’s the horseradish’s way of saying “STAY BACK!”
Time for the first bite (on a piece of matzoh, natch)! For the record, the following pictures were not posed or exaggerated at all. I simply put the camera in my right hand and snapped photos of me as I ate…
Everything seems to be okay so far…
Oh damn.
Ohhh my gaaaah.
HOLY SHIT.
IT BURNS!
My my my…
[sigh]
Is it over?
Unsurprisingly, I go in for more.
Maybe it’ll be easier the second time.
NOPE.
Get… it… together…
Whooo, that was intense.
Lesson learned: Grandma Sylvia’s horseradish still kicks my ass (in the most delicious way). Of course, now I have a whole tub of the stuff and am desperately seeking applications. I’ve put it on a sandwich, I’ve had it with matzoh, and I intend to use it in some Bloody Marys. Anyone have any suggestions? Maybe I should invest in some roast beef.
Of course, I could use it for entertainment. I seem to remember a peculiar game of Chicken that I played with reader NikkiSpice when we tried to best each other by taking larger and larger spoonfuls of the horseradish. That was a fun time. So many possibilities…