A couple of weeks ago, New York Times food critic Pete Wells acknowledged that vegetables "conjure their own brand of humorlessness, the tight-lipped officiousness of grim nutritionists that is captured in the phrase, 'Eat your vegetables.'"

He was reviewing Dirt Candy, Amanda Cohen's vegetarian landmark, a four-year-old restaurant that makes vegetables capitvating. 

I thought of Ms. Cohen's graphic cookbook that came out this season as I perused restaurant menus every night last week, looking for a vegetable dish that didn't seem obligatory.

I almost was heartened at Up Modern Kitchen, which I reviewed this week. Though much on the menu is satiating, a beet salad offered cubes crunchy and unadorned.

Vegetables can be better than this. 

Is there a restaurant willing to tartar beets? Roasted and chopped, blood-reds or golds would be layered with caramelized shallots, Dijon, capers, lemon and Worcestershire, served with a tangle of greens and parmesan toast.

I wish there were kale somewhere on a Pittsburgh menu, dotted with persimmons, sugar-poached cranberries, apples and maybe candied pecans. Even pancetta, if need be.

Does this exist? Please tell.

In the meantime, I likely will resort to making vegetables at home, courtesy of "Dirt Candy," a favorite cookbook of this year -- if only for the effusive reminder that beets, greens, rutabaga and the like need not disappoint. 

Melissa McCart photos