Take the radish

I hope you don’t mind if I munch while I jot down these thoughts. You see, I’ve recently discovered all of the health benefits of radishes and now I have taken to keeping a plate of sliced ones next to my desk as they offer an amazing combination of fibre and potassium and vitamin C while also filling you and keeping you from snacking while also simultaneously contributing to hydration because of their water content. Did I hear someone say radishes were good for you? They also help with piles if that is of concern.

They are so good for your metabolism and offer weight loss opportunities the list of benefits is as long as the County phone book. And come to think of it, by the time I have written this, the moon will have passed between us and the sun in these dog days of August, and I will have finished off three large red radishes and also the million plus horde of blackbirds that have once again descended into the neighbouring yard will have moved on. Whew! Now that’s a whole lot going on at one time, don’t you know? It could easily affect blood pressure if that issue wasn’t something else that radishes took care of.

You see, there is hope for gardeners like me who are just getting thawed out in the spring time when folks in the rest of the hemisphere seem to have a garden half-planted already. My salvation- if there was to be one planting- wise- is in the fall vegetable garden. This is where I can play catch-up.

Speaking of Ketchup, you see, tiny tomatoes and eggplant can be planted now: And beets, and Bok Choy, and broccoli, bush beans, peas, turnips, rutabagas AND spinach. Cucumbers, lettuce and peas planted with radish make a happy family, soil-wise. But mostly I stick to my favs, the French Breakfast or Mirabeau or the Masato red or green radish which are suited to fall planting and winter storage. Keeping it simple keeps the gardening questions down to something I can manage over cocktail conversations in the hopes that there are no expert gardeners in the room to monitor the discussion.

I’ll save you looking it up. Here are radish basics: they come long, cylindrical, or round and in colours of white, red, purple or black. Add to that, various configurations of heritage varieties. They are believed to be the first crop introduced in America by Europeans. The Japanese have come up with a variety that is 4 feet long which, come to think, embellishes Shakespeare’s scene in Henry IV quite nicely: “ When he was naked,” Falstaff begins to describe the king, “he was, for all the world, like a forked Radish.”

Radishes are also called Daikon in parts of the world and the essential oil from the seed of Raphanus Sativus— also keep that one handy for the cocktail set- blends well with ginger root and looks after the skin, hair, nails and scalp.

When you wanna bring it right down home you gotta try the lowly radish sandwich. I’m willing to divulge the recipe because, once again it’s one of those culinary delights I take pleasure in sharing with foodie-types over cocktails. It either leaves a polite, bemused look on their faces or their eyes glaze over with such delight- I imagine that’s it- with my description. It’s very simple: Sliced fresh baguette; butter, sliced radish, salt. Voila! There you have it! Simple pleasures, right?

So my radish interest has prompted plans for a twinning of communities between Slab Creek, down here in the western County outback, and the state of Oaxaca, Mexico, the latter which celebrates the Night of the Radish on December 23rd. The idea would be that they would come here to Slab Creek to celebrate the Night of Radishes and Gooseberries – you know the early Canadian twist of history where the French coureurs de bois Medard Chouart, Sieur des Groseilliers and his brother – in-law Pierre Esprit Radisson ended up launching the Hudson Bay Company under England’s King Charles II. You may also remember that the names were so hard to pronounce for non-French speakers, the two characters simply ended up as ‘ Radishes and Gooseberries’ in grade six history class taught by ol’ ‘Piano Legs’ Branscombe.

The best part of the cultural exchange is that while Oaxacains get to hear our bizarre stories by a winter campfire set in the woods of Slab Creek and learn to pronounce French names, WE on the other hand, have the chance to enjoy chilled tequila with warm tortillas and radish slaw while taking in extroverted festivities and learning to pronounce Oaxaca. I’ve got a head start on that one: Wah-hah-Kah. Now you begin to see how far in life the simple radish can take you. I promise to write home.