Radish Fail

Last October I sowed radish seeds in a half-barrel, and, being radishes, they sprouted immediately and grew quickly. Through December and January I plucked a few here and there. They came in a rainbow of colors — magenta, purple, pink, and white — and added a crisp bite to my navel orange and mixed lettuce salad.

But things changed in February. I set out to pull a couple for crudités and found that the radishes still standing in the barrel had turned into a mini-forest: They had grown over a foot tall, with wooden stems like little tree trunks — too hard even to cut with a knife. The colorful roots were bulging out of the soil, overgrown and misshapen, some of them split open.

I had left them too long. But I had a flash of brilliance. Remembering an article in Saveur about a cooking class featuring roasted radishes, I decided to bake the little devils. They may be woody and overgrown, but 45 minutes in the oven would render them tender and delicious — like beets, I reasoned.

I sawed off their stems, cleaned them up and baked them along with potatoes and chicken for dinner. Only upon sitting down to eat did I find that woody raw radishes, when cooked, become woody cooked radishes. There was no saving them.

But now I was curious about roasted radishes, so I purchased a few bunches and baked them. Sweet, juicy, and mild, with a texture not unlike baked beets, they were a great addition to a table of finger foods. Next year I’ll be sure to harvest them more aggressively.