I brought these black radishes home from the market for the precise reason that they were so difficult to love. Do you have a friend or family member like that, who constantly seems to wage war with you in a bet to lose your loyalty? We have relationships with food all the time, believe it or not. Maybe you’ve been having an affair with the same chicken salad sandwich from that deli for weeks, and maybe you’ve long since parted ways with kielbasa due to some dramatic falling-out; but still experience fond taste-memories about it from time to time. This post is dedicated to a newer friend, or food, of mine, which I find terribly gruff, abrasive, and, well, difficult to love.
Thanks to heirloom seeds and small farms, I’ve enjoyed many types of radishes in the last few years, realizing that they vary so greatly from the crisp, magenta balls that recall fishing bobbers. These include the striking watermelon radish, dense and spicy Chinese green radish, elegant French breakfast radish, finger-shaped purple and white radishes, and smaller varieties of daikon radish with mint-greenish shading at the top of the root (listen to me on a recent WNYC segment talk shop about cooking daikon). None put up more barriers to being loved than the coarse-surfaced, rotund black radish. These stringently bitter bulbs are coated in a thick skin that resembles a rhinocerous. Their dense, fibrous flesh has a fierce lick of horseradish. Why the hell did anyone cultivate this, when the cheery sparkler radish was just as easy to grow?
Genetic biodiversity is one good answer. It’s the value that was forgotten along with a host of banana varieties now missing. But getting to the root of it (so to speak), black radishes were planted since Medieval times in Europe simply because they’re hardy nutrition in trying climates and times of year. They, like many root vegetables, store exceptionally well throughout the winter. They can be left in the soil for weeks after a frost, to be uprooted and eaten when few fresh vegetables are around. Their thick, tar-like mask of skin protects the icicle-white flesh like armor built for function over fashion.
Now that we can appreciate the black radish for being the way it must be, we might find ways to enjoy its inherent nature. And perhaps, break it out of its tough shell, literally as well as given the conventional recipes for the root. I bought these black radishes from Tamarack Hollow Farm of Vermont at the Union Square Greenmarket, and asked its farmer, Mike Betit, how he liked to cook them. Mike wasn’t a huge fan, admittedly. “I don’t really like radish-y flavor, so I would eat it by mashing it with sour cream or cream cheese,” he said. This creamy, dairy cushion is an excellent way to soften the blow of bitterness from the black radish. It also makes it more smooth and dippable — I asked him if this preparation of his could be a dip or a mash to go with, say, steak, and he replied it could be both.
But I bought three radishes, and I was then determined to find three unique ways to enjoy the root. Over the next week, I managed to make the following trio of preparations:
1. Chopped and roasted with olive oil, sea salt and chili flakes
I don’t know too many root vegetables that don’t taste great like this, and the crisped peaks of the wedges are delightful contrast to the softer, mellowed flesh inside. I preheated the oven to 400 degrees, then peeled and chopped the root to equal-sized pieces. Coated lightly with olive oil, sea salt, and flakes of chili, they were roasted about 20 minutes, with one break to toss them around in the pan in between.
2. Shredded raw with apples, carrots, lemon and mint
Black radishes are a bit spicier and tougher than most types, but combined with the sweetness of carrots and tartness of fresh apples, they’re a pleasant complement. I used lots of fresh lemon juice and let it soak in for a while, along with good olive oil, and finished it with a few mint sprigs for extra refreshment.
3. Roasted in skins, peeled, and mashed with butter
A spin on Mike’s suggestion, with simply butter, salt and pepper. This could lend a hint of flavor if blended with mashed potatoes, or it could be the start of a creamy radish soup if simmered with stock. To concentrate its flavor more, I roasted the radishes in their skins, sliced in half flesh side-down on a pan (like I would a winter squash). After a good 40 minutes or so, the flesh shrinks back and allows the skin to be easily peeled off the bulb once cool (like with beets).
After these dishes, I think I’m well on my way to reconciliation with that most difficult root, black radish. I’m impressed by its versatility, its ability to wear so many hats, and think it might do well simmered in a stew or roasted in great wedges along with a whole chicken, perhaps, next. Here’s to keeping on appreciating all the great virtues about a challenging plant. If you’ve got suggestions for a future “Ode to a difficult food” post — and that can be any food, not just a vegetable — please do go ahead and share your most begrudged kitchen foe in the comments section!
11 Responses
Hannah Barnett
Exceptional timing! I have three or four of these languishing in my fridge right now, from my last CSA delivery of the season a week and a half ago. I had NO idea what to do with them, but you’ve given me some good direction!
Leeloo
I saw your post and had to send you a link to my black radish post. Its a rarely written about root…but deserves all the press it can get;)
I look forward to meeting you at the Jest Food Conference.
http://apartmentcookingnyc.blogspot.com/2011/11/black-radish-salad.html
roasted black radish and grape quinoa | brooklyn supper
[…] on Not Eating Out in New York, Cathy makes some great points about the usefulness of extremely hearty vegetables, and details […]
Julia
heat sprouted tortilla shells then cut into wedges.
Puree or finely chop clean black radish, skin and all.
1 cup black radish
1/2 large avocado
1/4 cup sweet onion chopped
1/4 cup finely chopped broccoli
1 or 2 finely chopped sun dried tomato in oil
Add Bragg Amino acid to taste, chilli powder and or hot pepper sprinkles.
Blend together,spread on tortilla shells.
Healthy and tasty and PH perfect!
Peter Palffy-Muhoray
Black radishes are wonderful, hard not to love. I’m amazed at all the obstacles listed! They are good after the first frost – and are NOT fibrous (unless they are harvested too late. They should be firm and black.
Preparing and eating them is simplicity itself.
Peel with a potato peeler – skin is not thick.
Slice them thin with a large knife – slices should be as thin as you can make them, less than 1/8″ – cutting perpendicular to the line joining the root and the stem.
Take a large shallow bowl, sprinkle salt on the bottom, then lay as many slices on the salt as you can, without overlapping slices. Then sprinkle more salt (don’t be too sparing with the salt!), and lay down the next layer; continuing this way until there are no more slices left. Then cover the bowl, and put in the fridge for a few hours. (2-4 hrs. work well). The salt causes moisture to come out of the slices; there will be some liquid at the bottom of the bowl which can be discarded. The slices will be soft, and taste wonderful. Eat with bread or bread and butter – fantastically good!
Carol
Ditti Peter… sliced thin, layered with salt.
Lisa Bruce
‘just came home with 3 large black radishes to do a photo shoot for my blog lisabruce.com/blog/ to decorate a black and orange compote bowl. After the photos I realized I had to figure out how to eat them. Thank you for all these very easy and tasty sounding recipes!! You are much appreciated!
Black Radishes and How to Eat Them Raw or Roasted - Lake Murray Pets
[…] enjoy them raw. Dice, slice, or shred them into a salad with celeriac, pomegranate, and pecorino; apples, lemon, and mint; or carrots, arugula, and thyme. If you’re worried that you won’t be able to […]
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[…] do with them as I’d never cooked them before. Well, I found these recipes on this blog by Cathy Erway. Lots and lots of yummy ways to serve them! Surprise your friends and family! She speaks of […]
Susanne L
What a helpful and thorough treatise on the black radish! Thank you so much. I look forward to making peace with this new food friend, as you have!
Dvorah
Here’s my favorite thing to do with a black radish, a gussied up version of what my grandmother used to do.
Using the large holes on a box grater, or in a food processor, grate a peeled black radish. Mix in some walnut oil. It should be well dressed, but not greasy. Add salt. It should be pleasantly salty. Now take some walnut pieces, lightly toast them, and toss them in. That’s it! Simple and delicious on its own, or as a side dish.