TURNIP THE FLAVOUR
Choose well and prepare properly for a sensory vacation, Karen Barnaby writes.
My family called rutabagas “turnips” and we would enjoy them mashed on a semi-regular basis. I always enjoyed their dusky, high cruciferous flavour. Then I started dining at a Lebanese restaurant that served turnips — pickled with beets to a bright neon pink — as part of an appetizer plate that included olives and pickled hot peppers. They were wonderful swiped through hummus, kibbeh nayeh, baba ghanouj and sprinkled on the falafel platter. I was very fond of them, yet it took me a while to seek out fresh turnips. When I finally did, they were fibrous and bitter. I concluded they were only good pickled.
It took time, but I finally learned how to find and choose good turnips — firm and bright with no wrinkles or softness. For turnips to be delicious, they must be grown properly. Turnips thrive in full sun and cooler weather — enjoying temperatures between 40 F (4.5 C) and 75 F (24 C) — and like to be well watered. Without this care, turnips are bitter.
They can be sowed twice a year: in early spring and late summer. The greens can be harvested in a month, and the roots dug after two months. Farmers’ markets are a good source for turnips, along with bunches of young turnips with their greens attached. The greens are excellent; cook them as you would a hearty green like kale. The roots are great thinly sliced in a salad, shredded into matchsticks for coleslaw, or shaved for vegetable “carpaccio.”
I know there are a lot of people who say no to turnips. Find a good one and let it take you on a sensory vacation. The aroma as I’m peeling turnips is satisfyingly feral and earthy. The crunch, slight bitterness, and sharp edge of a raw turnip is rejuvenating. And when cooked, the creamy texture and sweetness is comforting bliss.