Mark Diacono
LATIN NAME
Brassica rapa subsp. rapa
SEASONALITY
June–December
MORE RECIPES
Chicken and cider stew with rosemary dumplings
I first grew turnips after noticing how much my pigs seemed to love them, strimming off the leafy green tops then nosing up the roots until not a scrap remained. I subsequently added both turnips and the leafy, rootless variation, cime di rapa, to my veg patch and they’ve kept their place ever since.
Turnips are far too good to consider as winter ballast: they are a superb summer-into-autumn treat that starts to come good in June. Pick or buy them small – snooker rather than cricket ball – and you’ll find they are full of sweetness and pepperiness in perfect balance. Baby ones can be simply boiled whole and buttered. They can still be very good when larger, later in the year, though they often veer slightly more towards swede in flavour and may get a little woody with size. They should certainly be sliced or chopped relatively small.
At any size, roasted in oil with a little honey and a pinch of cumin and/or coriander, sliced and sautéed in butter or braised in stock, turnips’ sweetness and spice come to the fore beautifully, and work especially well with beef or salty meats such as ham. That combination of sweet and heat also sits brilliantly with cream, especially in a dauphinoise (I tend to split it 50/50 with potato) or finely diced in a risotto. And don’t cast the leafy tops into the compost bin; they have a fabulous, nutty, spicy flavour and are wonderful shredded and sautéed with olive oil and garlic for a pasta sauce, or combined with the braised roots.
Cime di rapa (turnip tops) belongs to the same Brassica subspecies as turnips, and is essentially the same plant with an exaggerated leafy top but no bulbous root – perfect as a hardy, leafy green if the roots aren’t to your fancy. It is easy to grow, as are turnips themselves, though be aware that the roots are a little unpredictable, tasting better or worse depending on where they’re grown. However, ‘Snowball’ and ‘Purple Top Milan’ are great varieties to try.
This hearty, pared-back stew is scented with fennel seeds and bay, which are toasted at the beginning to help release their earthy flavours. Serves 4
4 bay leaves (fresh or dried)
2 tsp fennel seeds
200g smoked streaky bacon, cut into lardons
1 rabbit, jointed into 6 pieces (2 shoulders, 2 legs and saddle split into 2)
6 sprigs of thyme
8 small-medium turnips, peeled and cut into wedges
2 crisp eating apples, such as Cox’s, peeled, cored and diced
4 garlic cloves, peeled and bashed
250ml dry cider
250ml chicken stock
Sea salt and black pepper
Preheat the oven to 160°C/Fan 140°C/Gas 3.
Scatter the bay leaves and fennel seeds over the base of a sturdy roasting dish or deep flameproof casserole. Place over a medium-high heat on the hob for 3–4 minutes until the bay and fennel are fragrant.
Add the lardons, rabbit pieces, thyme, turnips, apple and garlic, and season with plenty of salt and pepper. Pour in the cider and allow it to bubble rapidly until reduced by half.
Now add the stock – the liquid should just cover the ingredients. Bring to a simmer, then place a lid on the pan or seal it tightly with foil. Transfer to the oven and braise for 1–1½ hours, or until the rabbit is tender and yielding, and the turnips are nicely done.
Served the braised rabbit and turnips, along with the cidery pan juices, with a heap of buttered cabbage.