How I Spent My CSAcation: Project Turnip

I’m one of Dana’s roommates–the one who discovered a love for beets through Dana’s “Beets and Sweets”–and I’ll be filling in for her this week as Dana catches up on life.

I have allergies. Let me just start there. I wasn’t always this way. As a kid I could eat anything, but in my late 20s my mouth started to itch when eating apples. That was irritating, but I kept on crunching that delicious fruit. But then my throat began to swell and breathing became difficult to the point that one bite of apple was enough to start me wheezing for hours. And then the allergy spread to pears, plums, apricots, nectarines, tomatoes, asparagus and green beans. Recently, I had an allergic reaction to a mixed lettuce salad. Lettuce! A vegetable that is mostly water!

Turnips. (Pic | thebittenword.com)

But I don’t write this to get your allergy sympathy, but rather to clarify why I’m on a mission to save the turnip.  Having an ever-diminishing list of foods I can safely eat, I need to eat whatever veggies I can. And turnips are on my safe list. So I should eat them. I really should. But the problem is, I hate turnips. I don’t enjoy their pungent, bitter bite. I don’t like their earthy, almost uric smell. But I’m not allergic, and apparently turnips are one of those super foods. According to the article “Turnips are Tops for Health,” turnips are chock full of Vitamin C, Iron and Calcium. Turnips are also apparently resplendent in cancer-fighting phytochemicals and improve the circulation of qi (energy). Better circulating energy and lower risk of cancer both sound like good bargains to my no-health-insurance self. Thus, I’m embarking on Project Turnip.

My first strategy in loving the turnip is to somehow diminish or cover that distinctive turnip taste. I treat my aversion to healthy vegetables like a willful, picky inner child, and like anyone who has ever cooked for kids knows, two surefire ways to get kids to eat their vegetables is to coat it in cheese or to make it sweet. I went for sweet, and it was a success. They were sweet and tender, and I cleaned my plate. Turnips still are not my favorite vegetable–but I’ll eat them and my energy is now flowing.

Here’s the recipe I adapted from Allrecipes.com. I paired the turnips with salmon and a salad (see recipes below).

Caramelized Turnips (3-4 servings)

3 cups diced peeled turnips This was the equivalent of 2 weeks worth of turnips. Another great thing about the turnip is how well they store. I just trim their tops store them in the back of the fridge until I’m ready to use them.

1/2 cup vegetable or chicken stock or water and 1 bouillon cube). The amount is approximate, and you might end up using a bit more or less than a ½ cup. I used chicken stock that I had on hand, but I’m sure vegetable stock would work just as well and make this a vegetarian dish.

1 ½ tablespoons butter Again, this is approximate and you could do more or less, but not much less than 1 tablespoon. Vegetable spread would make this vegan friendly.

2 tablespoons white and/or brown sugar I created a mixture of brown and white sugar because I love the taste of brown sugar, but white sugar caramelizes well.

Turnips in the pan.

Start by washing and peeling the turnips. (I do enjoy the texture of turnips, their crisp white flesh reminds me of apples–oh, that forbidden fruit.) Then dice the turnips into small cubes, about 1 cm to 1 inch cubed, depending on preference. Put the turnips into a deep skillet with the chicken stock and heat over medium heat to a simmer. Cook until the water has evaporated and the turnips are tender.

This second part is key. If the stock has evaporated and the turnips aren’t tender, add some more water/stock. Similarly, if the turnips are tender and you still have stock left to simmer off, just pour off the excess (so as not to turn your turnips to mush). Evaporating the water will take about 15 to 20 minutes, longer the larger you diced the turnips. Then, when tender, stir in the butter until it melts. Then sprinkle on the sugar. Cook for about 10 more minutes until the sugar and butter have created a light brown syrup. Your turnips will noticeably shrink during this last part so that 3 cups of turnips reduce to about 1 ½ cups. Serve hot.

The turnips were a success. They tasted like sweet, buttery goodness. And they also still tasted like turnips, and that was good too. Their tell-tale bite lay beneath the sweetness, which made for a pleasing and rather complex contrast and kept the turnips in the category of age-appropriate grownup food.

As I mentioned earlier, I paired the turnips with salmon and a salad made with leftover CSA romaine lettuce. I made the salad by whisking balsamic vinegar with olive oil (about 2:3 ratio), adding a dash of salt and pepper to the mix. I then hand-tossed the lettuce in the dressing and served the salad in individual bowls, topped with Craisins and soft goat cheese. The recipe for salmon is my mom’s, and is as follows:

Wild Alaskan Salmon in a lemon-Dijon-mustard sauce

(For all the quantities below, you should use more or less of each ingredient according to taste and number of filets.)

2-4 Salmon Filets (Trader Joe’s has great deals on flash frozen salmon. You can keep it in your freezer until you are in the mood for fish and then thaw it by putting the still shrink-wrapped filets into a bowl (or sink) of room-temperature water. The salmon will completely thaw in about 20 minutes).

Approx. 2 tbs. Dijon Mustard

Approx. 2 tbs. butter

Juice from ½ a lemon

Dash of salt (to taste)

Glazed turnips.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Melt the butter in the microwave and then add the mustard, squeeze in the lemon juice (first squeezing the juice into a small bowl to avoid getting seeds in the sauce) and add a dash of salt. Briskly whisk with a fork. It should form a smooth sauce. If it keeps a grainy texture, add a touch more salt. I make this sauce slightly different each time I make it. Sometimes I want a bit more lemon, sometimes a bit more butter, and sometimes the sauce is all about the mustard. Experiment and see what you like, but the salt is essential for combining the tastes and bringing out the layers of flavor.

Rinse the salmon in cold water and pat dry. Grease a Pyrex backing dish and spread out the filets, skin side down, making sure there is at least an inch between filets (to allow for even cooking throughout).

Spread the sauce over the fish, reserving the rest of the sauce for the table.

Cooking times vary due to the thickness of your fish. 1 ½ inch filets take about 12 – 15 minutes, but thinner filets can be done in 8 minutes. I start checking after 7 to 8 minutes. The flesh should flake with a fork and should be a bright pink. Don’t overcook your salmon! Done right it should be tender and succulent, but leave it in for an extra couple of minutes and the flesh will dry out. Likewise, cooking your salmon at too low a temperature will dry the fish. However, don’t despair, because if you do overcook the fish a tad, you can always ladle on a little extra sauce.

It was my pleasure to serve as your CSA-cation guide for the week, and I hope to pen a column again in the future as I continue my quest to cook vegetables that I can, and want, to eat.

Bookmark and Share

COMMENTS

You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

Facebook comments:

Post a comment

You must be logged in to post a comment.

ABOUT THE WRITER
Andrea J. Nolan is the author of Sea Kayaking Maryland's Chesapeake Bay and Sea Kayaking Virginia, both published by Countryman Press. She graduated from Old Dominion University's MFA program in May 2009, and has fiction and essays published and forthcoming in journals such as Flyway, Dogwood, Alligator Juniper, and the Potomac Review, and her essay "Edges" was acknowledged as a "Notable Essay" in Best American Essays 2009, edited by Mary Oliver. She teaches at Old Dominion University.
Other posts by .