Stewed Beet Greens

Beets were never on the menu. Growing up, they were completely foreign to me. I had my first beet in my early twenties. Why was this ruddy root kept from me? (Oh, and no one warned me of the surprise when, you know.)

I was browsing at the local farmer’s market and picked up a few bunches, some red, some golden and some candy-striped. (My ignorance to the types of beets post-dated my initial discovery by at least 5 years). When I purchased my items, the farmer asked me if I wanted him to cut off the greens. Cut off the greens? Why on earth . . . ? Do they know what vitamins are? The farmer gladly gave me the discards.

Beet greens are great. I cook them differently from the root. I prefer the roots roasted. Wash, coat with oil, roast until fork tender, peal and eat. Hot or cold, they are simply beautiful. But the greens?

Stewed Beet Greens

1 bunch beet greens
1 onion
2 cloves garlic
Salt
Pepper
Olive Oil
1 cup diced tomatoes

Separate the ribs from the greens, roughly chop the greens and chop the ribs. Slice the onion and garlic. Oil the pan and sauté the onions and stems on medium to medium high heat until the onion is soft. Add the garlic and greens, folding the greens under the onions and stems. When the greens are wilted, add the tomatoes and stew approximately 12-15 minutes, until the tomatoes start to loosen. The tomatoes will retain some fresh acidity while the greens and stems are fully cooked. Serve hot.

Radishes

I just can't put my finger on it. There is something special about radishes. When I was a kid, I would eat a bag of radishes at a time. I preferred to peal the outsides first, eat all the peals and then onto the cores. Mind you, I did this knowing that I would most likely pay for it later. Maybe it’s my unexplained love for all things cabbage. Whatever it is, I eagerly look for something that is descended from that great brassicaceae ancestor cabbage to devour. Cooking radishes dulls the natural heat and leaves the sweetness while providing a nice mellow cabbage flavor akin to a raw broccoli stalk, but sweeter.

Radishes are relatively easy to grow in the garden, either in the ground or in pots. They are an early and pretty hearty plant. They require loose soil to promote long roots. A small rock or other obstruction could stunt the growth. When the tops of the radishes become visible, I tend to push the radishes down into the soil and cover by ¼ inch of soil. Someone in my family, either my father or grandfather, told me years ago that the radish (roots) are sweeter if they stay out of the sun. I never challenged this directive, and the practice has since become habit.

Chalk it up to an old gardener’s tale. Raw or cooked, I usually have several crops a season.

Breakfast Radishes

1 bunch french radishes, cleaned, trimmed and halved

(or in 1/3ds if large)

1 Tbs. Butter

Sea Salt

Pepper

Melt the butter in a small skillet over medium heat. Add the radishes and cook until softened, when the opaque flesh starts to lighten. I season with salt at this point, and when they brown very slightly, I drain them on a paper towel and re-season with salt and pepper and serve.