Black Radishes, Outrageous Salad!

Known to contain vitamin C, potassium, iron and magnesium as well as vitamins A, E and B, the black radish also possesses an ability to fight off infection and promote healthy digestive function. Dried and powdered, it's found in herbal supplements and is used in homeopathy to treat thyroid imbalances and improve liver function.

Not being a big one for stuffing myself with lots of supplements, preferring instead to fill my belly with delicious things in their more natural state, I was pleased to discover that the black radish lends a peppery bite to a root slaw. Having volunteered to bring a salad to a crab feed and inspired by the two black radish salads concocted by Linda Colwell at this year's Ayers Creek Farm Ramble, I hauled out our trusty mandoline and went to town.

I wasn't sure how many radish fiends were in the crowd and didn't want to overwhelm the crab with the sometimes strong heat and bitterness that some of these members of the brassica family carry. Following Linda's lead, I salted down the julienned radishes and let them stand for a couple of hours on the counter, which tames some of their harsher, peppery tendencies. A quick rinse to wash off the salt, draining them well and then drying them in an absorbent dish towel and they were ready for the salad bowl.

There were a couple of small globes of celery root (right) in the vegetable bin that hadn't gone into a root vegetable stew the week before, so while the radishes enjoyed their salty spa treatment I julienned those as well, figuring their mild celery flavor and crisp texture would add a nice touch to the finished salad.

Since for once I was running ahead of schedule, I made up a quick lemon vinaigrette and doused the rooty mixture, tossing it well and putting it in the fridge so that the flavors could mingle until we left for dinner. A couple of tosses in the interim and then a final toss before serving, and this simple salad was declared the belle of the ball.

Simple Black Radish Salad

4 large black radishes
2 small, peeled globes of celery root (or one large), optional
2/3 c. olive oil
1/3 c. lemon juice
1 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 c. plus 1/8 tsp. kosher salt

Scrub radishes to rid them of any dirt or dust, but don't peel. Using a mandoline, julienne them into matchstick-sized pieces. Put the julienned radishes into a large bowl, add the 1/2 cup salt and stir to combine. Let sit on the counter for a couple of hours.

While waiting for radishes, make the dressing by whisking lemon juice, oregano and 1/8 tsp. salt into olive oil.* Set aside. When salted radishes are ready, rinse them well under running water, drain in a colander and dry them with an absorbent dish towel (I love flour sack dish towels for this purpose.) Add them back to the bowl, julienne the celery root (if using) and add them to the radishes. Pour the dressing over the top, stir to combine and put the salad into the refrigerator. Stir occasionally. Serve.

* You can also add a tablespoon of Dijon mustard and a crushed garlic clove to make a mustard vinaigrette.

Farm Bulletin: A Soup to Sustain a Farmer

Though the Hillsdale Farmers' Market will not be in session this weekend—it has begun its twice-monthly winter season schedule, in effect through April—contributor Anthony Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm kindly provided an excellent recipe that will tide us over until the market convenes again on Dec. 21st.

Myrtha Foradori studied in southwestern Germany for two years. During that time she signed up for a weekly produce box that provided, among other vegetables, black radishes. Made aware of our insecurity with respect to cooking black radishes, she mentioned how much she enjoyed a simple soup prepared using the root. Myrtha kindly sent along the recipe.

Potato-Black Radish Soup

4-5 medium sized potatoes, chopped in cubes
Half of a big black radish, thinly sliced
1 big yellow onion, chopped
Some garlic, minced
Olive oil
About a glass of white wine
Enough vegetable or chicken broth to cover while simmering
Sour cream (optional)

Heat the olive oil in a soup pot over medium heat, add the onions and garlic and sauté. When the onions are translucent, add the potatoes and stir on medium heat. Add white wine. After it has evaporated, cover the potatoes with a fair amount of broth. Cover with a lid and let cook on medium heat. When the potatoes are almost done, add the black radish and cook for a short time until tender. Purée and season with salt and pepper. Serve with some sour cream.

The farm chef, Linda Colwell, prepared the soup today substituting butter for the olive oil, leeks instead of onions and no garlic, reflecting her northern European orientation. We sprinkled grated horseradish over the top. It is a very fine soup and, with specks of black skin from the radish, very attractive as well. Recommended.

Farm Bulletin: Regarding Black Radish & Storage of Farm Crops

All farmers must use their powers of divination when predicting not only which crops will do well in the coming growing season, but also what market customers will be looking for in the future. Contributor Anthony Boutard has a pretty sterling track record on both counts, as the line that forms at the Ayers Creek Farm stand—even before the bell rings—at the Hillsdale Farmers' Market attests.

Regarding black radish

Around here, we have a hunch that black radish is the kale of the future, one of those dismissed vegetables that will suddenly become a must-have because it is packed with outstanding nutritional qualities. In particular, it is renowned as a liver stimulant, which is why it is favored in northern European countries where the winter diet is rich in pork fat and the denizens imbibe beer generously to warm the gloom of the shortened day.

Crap, that sounds just like Portland.

Shredded black radish salad with vinaigrette.

To prepare it, we shred the root—peel on—with a mandolin and then salt it heavily for a half hour or so. This tempers its wilder, harsh nature and tenderizes the flesh. Rinse the salt off, then dress it as a salad with either lemon juice and olive oil or with a dab of sour cream. Treat it as you would a pickle, a nice morsel on the plate. Today, Sylvia and I had a mixed root salad with black radish, knob celery and carrots to accompany our purgatorio bean soup.

Adds a peppery crunch to pizza, too.

My father grew black radish and had a special German tool that sliced the root paper thin. He would salt the slices as an accompaniment with beer, and as kids we loved their sharp flavor even before attaining drinking age. I have not travelled in Germany during black radish season, but he told us that the taverns always served these radishes to keep beer steins empty, and to keep the livers working well. A healthy symmetry.

Some people cook them, but that is, for the moment, beyond my ken. Maybe we can get Linda to figure that out.

A Note on Storage

We keep onions, spuds, roots and greens in a cool, shaded, moist location. A breezeway or overhang that catches a bit of rain on a gust is good. A garage is okay if the roots are kept moist. Throw a wet dish cloth or two on top of the roots. Do not let the roots freeze, though—bring them in for the night if gets very cold. Onions, on the other hand, are amazingly resilient. They can freeze hard as a stone and are just fine, thank you.

Our cornmeal is stone-ground from the whole grain, so it is high in perishable oils and provides an irresistible bouquet for pantry pests. The meal is best stored in a mason jar in the refrigerator or freezer.* Glass protects it against odors from other foods. Frikeh lasts longer stored in this manner.

Mature beans and grains do well in a cool, dark place, not damp, but not very dry either. The cellar or garage is not a bad location, provided it is protected from rodents. It is not necessary nor do we recommend refrigerating or freezing them. Cayennes can be stored in the same manner. We deseed and remove the membrane from some and keep them in a mason jar in the kitchen, grinding them as needed.

Whole squash and sweet potatoes are organs of tropical plants, and die if kept in a cold place. They will last upwards of a year on the counter in the kitchen. Keep them at 60°F (15°C) or above. Both organs reach their peak quality in December and January. Do not bother trying this with Brand X sweet potatoes as they may have been put in cold storage and thus are physiologically dead already. Ours are treated with kid gloves because we propagate the new crop from them. We don't even put those we plan to sell into the van until we are ready to leave for Hillsdale, lest they get chilled overnight.

Sliced squash will hold a few days in the fridge. Otherwise, cook it and freeze the puree until needed.

Preserves unopened last well nigh forever in a cool dark location. Once opened, into the refrigerator they go.

*  I simply throw the zip-lock bags in the freezer, or package several together in a large gallon bag. - KB

Farm Bulletin: Black is the Color

This week contributor Anthony Boutard of Ayers Creek Farm extolls the virtues of root vegetables eaten raw in salads, a crisp, sweetly crunchy pleasure that I've become an advocate for, as well.

Not just less than lovely to look at, black radish a strong, coarse creature with a harsh bite best tempered by salting first. In northern Europe, it is served in beer halls, where the root is sliced paper thin and generously salted for about 20 minutes to an hour. The Boutard children grew up eating it that way, even before beer graced their evenings. It is amazing what a transformation a sprinkle of salt accomplishes.

Black radish seedlings.

We also prepare a couple of salads/relishes by running the radish through the medium julienne blade of a Benringer mandolin and salting it for an hour. We peel it in a desultory fashion, pulling off the coarsest parts but leaving some of the black peel as decoration. When wilted, we rinse off the salt and dress it with lemon juice and olive oil, or sour cream. Both are delicious. Anthony enjoys it by the plateful as a salad while Carol prefers it in smaller doses as a relish.

Black radish is one of those very healthful vegetables that has a dedicated subterranean following, but no commodity commission loudly promoting its benefits. For what its worth, the root is high in vitamin C and is regarded as a good stimulant for liver regeneration. Both welcome at this time of the year.

Celeriac aka knob celery aka celery root…all delicious!

Knob celery, aka celeriac, was another regular winter vegetable in the Boutard house. Anthony's mother cubed and cooked the root until just tender, and then dressed it with a vinaigrette while still warm. At Ayers Creek we most commonly eat it as a raw salad. We julienne the roots and dress them in lemon juice and olive oil with a generous amount of freshly ground cayenne. We also follow James Beard's celeriac remoulade recipe where he dresses it with mayonnaise seasoned by three different mustards: sharp English, Dijon and sweet German. We make generous portions of these salads and enjoy them over a two or three day period. A sprinkle of caraway is also nice variation.

When it grows large quickly, the root can develop a pithy heart. We generally plant our knob celery later than recommended so it grows slowly in the cool autumn weather, giving it a crisp texture all the way through. In trimming the roots, we retain the topknot of greenery whenever possible. It is not just that it looks like standard desert island cartoon image from the New Yorker, we like to chop up the green part into the salad.

Get a recipe for a Celery Root Remoulade.

Top photo from Heirloom Solutions. Photo of seedlings from Horizon Herbs.