‘Bashed neeps’ would actually be the Scots term for mashed swede (rutabaga), I think.
I find turnips watery and uninteresting most of the time. They can be fairly good sliced into matchsticks and tossed into a stir fry and only very lightly cooked. In most cases, though, it’s probably better to use an oriental radish and just not bother with turnip at all.
Neep is used for both turnip and swede, and to confuse matters swedes are often called turnips as well. I have no idea why this has come about. Suffice to say that what you get accompanying your haggis ie neeps 'n tatties, is mashed swede and potato and very tasty it is too.
Well, swedes are turnips –Swedish turnips. Until comparatively recently you’d have been hard pushed to find any other kind in Scotland or Northern England – presumably because those are the ones that grow best up here.
Potatoes? Sacrilege! Potatoes aren’t period for that dish!
Recipe, if anyone wants to try. They are, indeed, yummy. Parsips are good like this, too.
OK, people, time to face facts. Turnips are one of those vegetables that people used to eat before the potato arived from the New World and kicked the turnip’s ass six ways from Sunday. All those recipes that include turnips are fine and edible, but none of them are actually improved by the addition of turnips.
Yeah, if you french fry a turnip you’ll get something pretty good, almost as good as a french fried potato. Yeah, if you mash turnips with loads of butter and sour cream you’ll get something pretty good, almost as good as mashed potatoes. Yeah, sliced turnips in a stir fry are pretty good, almost as good as daikon.
And so on.
The parsnip is another such obsolete vegetable, but the difference is that parsnips actually taste good if they aren’t too old and woody.
So sayeth me.
I really like turnips. I love the way my mother makes them, with carrots and onions and turnips all cut up and basted with olive oil and baked in the oven. Potatoes aren’t nearly as good that way.
But, see, I’m not as big a fan of potatoes as most people. They are fine, but not my favorite.
Cute theory, but incorrect.
The ascendancy of the potato was due to the fact that it yielded much more food value per acre than just about any other crop that was feasible at the time.
They are, but only really in the same sense that turnip tops are cabbages. The Brassica family is all a bit confusing and incestuous, but swedes are a distinct species - they aren’t quite the same sort of thing as turnips. Not quite.
Well, if you didn’t find them edible in the forms you had them, I don’t think you’d find my Turnip Fries to be good at all.
I love turnips. I’m a bit weird, though.
No, but they have a legitimate claim to the name turnip. My point was that in the absence (or at any rate, scarcity) of any other kind, there was no need to differentiate, so in the north of Britain, the Swedish turnip has traditionally gone by the common appellation “turnip”. I’m talking about greengrocer’s [sic], here, not botanists or agriculturalists.
That’s fair enough. I can certainly get behind that.
<snerk> ISWYDT
Booze. And lots of it. You won’t taste a thing.
NB-- this will work with lots of food. And other things you may not want to remember.
This thread reminded me I haven’t made this in a long time. I think I got this from Bon Appetit:
Mashed Potatoes with Braised Turnips (4 servings)
1 tablespoon butter
1/2 pound (2 medium) turnips, peeled and chopped
2 small leeks (white and light green parts only), sliced thin
1/3 cup dry white wine
1 bay leaf
1 cup chicken broth
1 1/3 pounds potatoes, peeled and cut into 2-inch pieces
3/4 cup milk
Chopped parsley
Melt butter and add turnips. Add leeks and cook until soft. Season generously with pepper. Add wine and bay leaf and boil until liquid is reduced to a glaze. Add broth and boil until liquid is reduced by half. Reduce heat, cover and simmer until liquid is almost evaporated.
Boil potatoes and mash. Add milk as necessary. Discard bay leaf and add turnips to potatoes. Garnish with parsley.
It takes a bit of work, but is delicious.
GT
Blasphemy! Turnips have a unique astringent taste that sets them apart from your new-fangled American ‘potato’.