Anything you bury them in, that is.
Readers of mrsguy will know that I don't particularly care for the turnips. And yet 'tis the season, and our veggie box is overflowing with cruciferous vegetables. We'd put off eating them for so long, that we had Japanese turnips and regular turnips and watermelon daikon (not a neep but a crucifer) coming out our ears.
Mrguy usually gets rid of the turnips by hiding them in fried rice, which magically makes them tasty. It must be the proportion of rice and chicken to other vegetables that helps. The Scots have a similar game plan, called neeps and tatties, wherein turnips which taste bad are hidden in potatoes which taste good. Neeps and tatties is a great thing to bury your haggis in, and that was the same meal but another story.
Today I decided to take the lead on solutions to the turnip problem. Since I made some stock yesterday, my thoughts turned to soup. I started caramelizing onions and browning the turnips a bit. Then I added a little sage and thought about it. Turnip soup was going to taste like turnips. It'd be like The Cat in the Hat Comes Back, when the teensy bit of frosting gets all over everything. It would no longer be a few root vegetables but an enormous pot of turnip flavor.
Plan b was inspired by the season and my seasoning. There was a box of Stove Top Stuffing lurking in the cupboard that Mom brought over once when she wasn't sure that she and I could make a credible stuffing without Pop. Before I knew it I had made a stuffing casserole with the julienned turnips, stock and stuffing. It is currently browning in the oven.
Turnip hiding is good practice for Thanksgiving, when the McGuyver gene needs to be dominant.
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