Rooting for Your Side

What’s cooking? Citrus-Glazed Turnips and Beet Dip with Yogurt (or Labneh)

This post is not about football, but it is football season, and I always laugh at this cartoon. Plus, we really need some laughs these days. So here it is.

Not long ago, I was perusing my favorite section of The New York Times – that would be the Wednesday Food Section – when I was struck by the following headline: “The Secret to Ordering the Best Thing on the Menu.”

Well, of course I wanted to know. I mean, I have my own painful habits in menu-parsing, and I say “painful” because I am invariably the last person to decide what to eat. (Unless they offer soft-shell crabs, because... well, soft-shell crabs.) The reason it takes me so long is that I have to read all the side dishes that accompany each entree. I’m not so focused on chicken or fish or lamb or whatever – I mostly care what comes with those items. The chicken looks good until I see that the sea bass is served with “baby artichokes and basil-ginger coulis,” or that the veal comes with “yellow peaches, verbena butter, summer beans, and crispy polenta.”

I just find the side dishes generally more interesting. And that was also the recommendation of the Times writer, Eric Kim, who says we should “Live life on the edge of the menu.” In other words, those quirky side dishes are often the “sleeper hits” of the restaurant – the chef’s “passion project,” that will be the reason you go back to that place again and again.

In that light, I have for you today two wonderful sides, both featuring root veggies that most people walk right past when they visit the grocery store: turnips and beets. Please give them both a try – you will want to call and thank me, but there’s no need. Just the knowledge that I’ve spread the word about them will feed my soul.

I guarantee that if you found the citrus-glazed turnips from today’s recipe on your plate, you’d go back for more. (And as we hotfoot it toward Thanksgiving, this is clearly one for the table.) They originally appeared on the menu at Nicole Cabrera Mills’s restaurant, Pêche Seafood Grill, in New Orleans, but Eric was kind enough to write about them, and here is the Kitchen Goddess passing them along to you. Lucky people.

On the whole, turnips don’t have a lot to say for themselves. They’re members of the Brassica family – cabbage, rutabaga, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts – an underwhelming group of siblings for whom the best that can sometimes be said is that they store well through the winter. The name, “turnip” is attributed to their round shape. Mom and Dad Brassica and whoever decided to call them “turnips,” wasn’t expecting them to grace the Miss America stage. (“And now, in the swimsuit competition, we have Miss Turnip.”) More likely, people think of them as something that’s just taking up space on a plate.

But once they’ve been roasted – which brings out their sweetness – and tossed with this tangy and sweet citrus glaze, they are truly addictive. Add a little umami spiciness, and you’ll understand why my prince kept saying, “You’re sure these are turnips?” as he went for a second helping.

Kitchen Goddess buying hint #1: Turnips are most flavorful and tender when harvested young. In fact, my favorites are the earliest ones at the summer farmers’ market, when they’re about 1½ inches in diameter. At that size, I don’t even peel them before cooking. Generally speaking, once they get to be more than 3 inches in diameter, they get tougher and a little woody.

Buying hint #2: The second time I made this recipe, I found these mandarin oranges in a bag at my NJ grocery store, but I didn’t have them the first time, so I just used fresh squeezed orange juice. I don’t think there’s a noticeable difference. If you go for basic oranges, the best are the sweetest, which would be Cara Cara or navel oranges.

Citrus-Glazed Turnips

Adapted from Eric Kim, who adapted it from the originator, Nicole Cabrera Mills, the owner and chef de cuisine at Pêche Seafood Grill, in New Orleans.

Yield: 4 servings
Time: 45 minutes

Ingredients
1 pound turnips, peeled and cut into 1½-inch pieces
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt (such as Diamond Crystal)
1 teaspoon black pepper
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon finely diced shallots (can substitute red onion, but really...)
1 tablespoon thinly sliced jalapeño (optional)
1 teaspoon gochujang (see note)
½ cup fresh juice from mandarin oranges (or any sweet oranges  or tangerines)
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
Chopped chives, fresh dill fronds, and flaky sea salt, for serving

Kitchen Goddess note: Gochujang and gochugaru are essential flavorings within Korean cuisine that have become widely popular in flavoring dishes in the US. Gochugaru is a powder (either coarse or fine) made from dried, crushed red chili peppers, and is an essential ingredient in gochujang. Gochujang is a thick, fermented chili paste, which also includes fermented soybeans, glutinous rice flour, malted barley, and salt, so it has a smoother, less concentrated heat and imparts a signature savory umami. You can make a number of substitutions in this recipe, but the gochujang is essential in delivering a subtle hint of spiciness in the sauce for these turnips. You can find gochujang at many grocery stores these days, generally in the Asian foods sections.

Directions

Preheat oven to 375º.

In a medium-sized bowl, toss the turnips with the olive oil, salt, and pepper until they are well coated. Lay the turnips – cut sides down – on a sheet pan lined with parchment. Roast about 15 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through, until the turnips are tender but slightly al dente in the centers and lightly browned on the flat sides.

In a large skillet over medium heat, melt 1 tablespoon butter. Add the red onion and jalapeño (if using), then cook, stirring often, until translucent, 1-2 minutes. Stir in the roasted turnips and gochugaru, then add the mandarin juice, lemon juice and the remaining 2 tablespoons butter. Increase the heat to medium-high and bring to a simmer. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the liquid is syrupy, 5-7 minutes.

To serve, top with chives, dill and flaky sea salt.

* * *

For our other root dish, I bring you beets that everyone – including my beetphobe hubby – likes.

 My new daughter-in-law served this at a family grill-out with burgers and hot dogs, and it was devoured by the entire group, which ranged in age from 9 to ... um, the grandparents. It comes together in a jiffy, made entirely in a blender or food processor, without even cooking the beets.

You can use any color beets. I’ve made it with the deep red ones shown here, but I’ve also used pink-and-white striped Chioggia beets (pronounced kee-OH-gee-uh), also known as candy stripe or bulls-eye beets, with no difference in taste. And if you really want to fool your audience, try golden beets.

Beet Dip With Labneh or Yogurt

Adapted from Tejal Rao in The New York Times; original recipe by Heather Sperling and Emily Fiffer

Yield: 4 to 6 servings

Ingredients

½ pound raw beets (any size), peeled and roughly chopped
1 cup whole walnuts, toasted, plus chopped walnuts for garnish
Juice of 1 lemon (2-3 tablespoons), plus an additional lemon for juice and zest when serving
1 tablespoon pomegranate molasses
2 teaspoons Aleppo pepper (or 1 teaspoon chile flakes)
1 garlic clove, peeled
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for garnish
Freshly ground black pepper
1 cup labneh or plain Greek yogurt, for serving
Pita, sliced in wedges or torn, for serving
3-4 Persian cucumbers, quartered, for serving

Directions

Kitchen Goddess note: My new daughter-in-law made this beet dip in her food processor. I used my Vitamix blender, which I bought because a well-known food writer described it to me as “the Mazerati of blenders.” If your blender is powerful, it will make no difference whether you use the blender or the food processor. If not, I recommend the food processor. The texture of my daughter-in-law’s dip was – as far as I could tell – identical to mine.

Pile the first 7 ingredients (beets, walnuts, lemon juice, pomegranate molasses, Aleppo pepper or chile flakes, garlic, and salt) into your food processor or blender. Pulse the mixture until the beets and nuts are a mealy texture. Scrape down the sides and purée until the mixture gets slightly smoother. Add the olive oil and continue to purée until the texture is as smooth as you want. (The original recipe calls for a “coarse purée,” but I prefer it to be fairly smooth, for easier dipping and spreading. Taste, and adjust seasoning with salt, pepper and additional lemon juice, if desired.

To serve, spoon the plain yogurt/labneh into a bowl, then heap the beet dip on top or at the side. Garnish with chopped walnuts and a drizzle of olive oil; grate lemon zest on top. Serve with pita and cucumbers for dipping.