- Date: Saturday, February 9, 2008 -- 7pm
- Location: Bloomington, IN
- Kitchen: My Apartment
- Fellow Chef: Matty
- Recipe Rating: C
I am trying to get through some of the vegetable recipes from The Book that feature veggies I am not terribly excited about. This was one of them. In general I am all about root vegetables, but turnips are at the bottom of my list, below parsnips. Turnips are one of those love it or hate it vegetables, which a lot of people dislike. I think turnips have their place in the culinary world. Often adding a bit of turnip to some soup, or a roasted root vegetable medley isn't a terrible idea. But turnips aren't meant to stand alone -- they are a back-up singer of a vegetable, not a headliner. That was the problem with this recipe: too many turnips, and too little else. I liked the glaze quite a bit. It had a good flavor, and the sweetness of it did all that it could to offset the bite of the turnips. Still though, it was hard to eat. Turnips have such a strong flavor (which many people find repulsive) and there wasn't much here to mellow it. Further, we followed the cooking times in The Book, which resulted in some very overcooked turnips. In summary, this recipe wasn't tasty. On the other hand, if you are going to build a recipe around turnips almost exclusively, this might be about as good as you are going to do. So if you are a turnip-lover you might try it. Otherwise, steer clear!
The recipe in The Book is the same as this one except the one in The Book calls for twice as much parsley.
There was a request in the comments for anecdotes about my parents' homophonous names. Indeed, my parents have the same name: Terry (and Teri). When I was young many of my friends had parents who were divorced. I firmly believed that my parents could never separate. Why? Because they have the same name, obviously! Ah, the logic of a six year-old! Perhaps it wasn't so inaccurate though because Terry and Teri have been married for more than 30 years now.
Them having the same name was no trouble for me until I became old enough to answer the phone. People would call and ask for Terry (Teri?) and I would be confused. "Boy Terry, or girl Teri?" I would ask. This was a very disorienting question for people who weren't aware that my parents shared the same name. Eventually I developed an algorithm and if it was a man calling, I gave the phone to my dad. If it was a woman calling I gave it to my mom. This wasn't terribly successful, and anyone who knew my parents well rapidly learned not to ask for Terry or Teri, but rather to ask "Is your mom/dad home?"
The most ridiculous mix-up was when I was in high school. I gave my dad a mutli-page permission slip to sign and he signed only the first page then left for work. So I gave it to my mother to sign the latter pages. I thought nothing of it until I got called to the gym teacher's office the next day. He started yelling at me about how forging your father's signature was a serious offense, and if I was going to do so the very least I could was make sure I spelled it the same on every page! When I tried to explain, he didn't believe me that my parents have the same name. Fortunately this was easy to verify, but that gym teacher never ceased to seem angry at me!
Ah, good times...