A Recipe for Spring Turnips

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Lynne Rossetto Kasper, host of "A Spendid Table"
By Lynne Rossetto Kasper
Scripps Howard News Service

Dear Lynne: My girlfriend and I do ruthless cooking competitions. This week she challenged me to make a great turnip dish. I say there is no such thing, but can't give in without trying. Any ideas? — Cooking for Love in Cleveland
Dear Kitchen Lover: My, my, what an interesting dynamic you two have created. She really threw down the gauntlet this time. Personally, I like turnips, but they are a hard sell for most.

Victory is possible because spring is the turnip's shining moment. You want small firm ones with unblemished sheer skins that glow like pearls. Yes, pearls; it is a sure sign of prime condition.

You can always slow-cook them in lots of butter in a covered pan. That will make anything taste good. But I've got something more sophisticated for you. This has won over a lot of non-turnip eaters.

Imagine a creamy braise of pearly turnips, garlic and spring potatoes, pureed with a little butter. The recipe evolved over the years from one created by Michele Urvater and David Liederman in their Cooking the Nouvelle Cuisine in America (Workman Publishing, 1979).

Spring Turnips With Mellowed Garlic
Serves 4 to 6 and halves easily

2-1/4 pounds small organic turnips, peeled and quartered
3/4 pound organic new potatoes (Yellow Finns, red skins, White Rose or Desiree), peeled and cut in to 1-inch chunks
6 quarts boiling salted water
1-1/2 to 2 cups chicken or vegetable broth (homemade preferred)
20 large cloves organic garlic, peeled but not crushed
Generous pinch freshly ground nutmeg
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons snipped chives

Boil turnips and potatoes 8 minutes and drain. Turn into a 12-inch saute pan, adding the garlic, 1-1/2 cups broth, nutmeg, a little salt and pepper. Cover and cook at a very slow bubble over medium-low heat, adding more broth if sticking is a problem. Stir often with a wooden spatula.

After about 25 minutes, when garlic is soft, cook off any excess broth until mixture is almost dry. Puree with the butter in a food processor, tasting for seasoning.

Serve hot, sprinkled with chives, or refrigerate up to 24 hours. Reheat puree in a bowl set over a pot of boiling water.

Dear Lynne: In a Hallmark moment I volunteered to cater my sister's wedding. Now I'm figuring out how to multiply recipes. I've done it before — with not much success. — Claire in West Virginia
Dear Claire: Those warm fuzzies can get us into a lot of trouble. Borrow from the professionals to save yourself a lot of time and aggravation.

For absolute accuracy, weigh ingredients, then multiply. The bulk measurement we usually use varies dangerously when you start multiplying.

Get a good scale large enough to hold your ingredients. Brands like EKS, Soehnle and Salter are reliable. Prepare your favorite dishes in the quantities you always do, but weigh as you go. Multiply the quantities and you are there.

Some unsolicited advice for you from hard-won experience: Get double the help you think you'll need. This is one of those things families are for.

Dear Lynne: We experimented with miso before we moved to the mountains, where it's hard to get. A friend brought us a large tub. How long will it keep? And how many kinds are there? — Shawn in the Wilds of North Carolina
Dear Shawn: Seal it tight, refrigerate it and your miso (Japanese fermented bean paste) will keep a year. A full miso wardrobe requires three basic types: delicate sweet white, more fulsome yellow, and robust salty or sweet red, with lots of varieties in each category. Generally, the darker the miso, the bigger the taste.

Miso goes into nearly everything — such as soups, marinades and dressings. Spread some on fish and meat before grilling. It flavors sauces and seasons stews. Green beans are good dressed with red miso thinned down with sake, soy sauce and flavored with sugar, about two tablespoons for every three-quarters cup miso.

I feel guilty referring to it as merely "bean paste." Miso demands meticulous skill and patient aging up to three years. I am always amazed at the quality we get for so little money.

(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service, SHNS.com.)