Teriyaki Root (and not so root) Vegetables

It's pretty easy to write up a dessert, but when experimentation happens with side dishes, it ends up far too free-form to even try to capture what it was.

Case in point: kohlrabi was once again purchased to see what else can be done with it. (The previous experiment involved chopping it into a slaw and air-frying it like fries, and since then it's been a frequent ingredient in stir fries, but there's clearly a whole lot of potential to uncover).

Roasting it seemed like a common preparation.

There was obviously not enough in one kohlrabi for two people, so reinforcements were summoned to supplement it. Going with root vegetables on the sweeter side of the spectrum seemed in order, so beets (pre-cooked) and carrots were recruited.

Meanwhile, social media served up an advertisement of a carrot preparation from Kikkoman - Teriyaki Roasted Carrots with Cranberries and Pistachios. (Management does not endorse it as a soy sauce provider, nor dis-endorse it. It's fine, it has a good variety of options, and there's a 50-50 chance any given soy in the house would be from them, but that's more about availability than dedication).

There did not happen to be a teriyaki in the house, so something resembling it was constructed from scratch: equal ratios of soy sauce, mirin, a dry riesling (as a substitute for sake because it was already opened and sake wasn't) and honey. (The inspiration for the flavor combination and ratios was this recipe from Downshiftology, but we didn't actually cook it or thicken it).

Nor were there cranberries, but there were craisins.

The vegetables were chopped into inch-or-so chunks, tossed with the mix of home-made teriyaki, honey, garlic and craisins, salted and baked for about 40 minutes, flipping half-way. Nuts weren't added because kohlrabi takes care of providing a crunch.

Vegetables, and hey, a fancy background attempt!

Verdict: aside from needing more salt, just about perfect. The kohlrabi was dense and a little crunchy, the sauce gave it a brightness that was punched up even more by the craisins, which soaked in the sauce and plumped up. The beets were the richest and the sweetest and the earthiest, and the carrots tied it all together.

But will it ever be made again? Probably not, because gargoyles free-form vegetables and forget to make them the same way twice.