Is it the wettest August on record? The rain seems unceasing. At least it is good for the grass, my daughter says. For the vegetables too, I reply.
We may scorn the wild precipitation that weaves its way around Ireland, but we could not argue that it helps our farmers produce some wonderful products. Of course, when it comes to grass, it is generally beef and dairy that get our first thoughts, but let us not forget our vegetables.
We’re embracing autumn in Aniar, with brassicas of every kind: cavalo nero, kohlrabi, radish, turnips. All work well for an indulgent autumnal dinner. We rarely see the benefits of brassicas. Maybe it’s our collective fear of overcooked cabbage. I was certainly scared. My nana’s cabbage, boiled to death in Bray, was fit only for the bravest of hearty appetites.
Hopefully those days are behind us. A cabbage leaf will cook in about 45 seconds, particularly those luscious green kale leaves, such as Uncle John’s.
Of all the brassicas, kohlrabi is king. Raw or cooked is almost irrelevant. I am told that in Germany they eat them like apples. In her 1949 book, The Cookin' Woman, Florence Irwin included a recipe for kohlrabi and beetroot salad. I don't know if it was my lack of food education growing up, but I never saw a kohlrabi until we opened Aniar nine years ago. Maybe I had, and I just ignored them. Or maybe Noma made them famous.
Probably my favourite way of cooking kohlrabi is to salt bake it.
Here’s how to cook it
Mix 1kg of coarse sea salt with five egg whites. Place four peeled kohlrabi on an oiled baking tray and cover with the salt mixture. Bake at 160 degrees Celsius for 45 minutes. Crack open the salt and serve the vegetable. Kohlrabi pairs equally well with white fish and red meat and wild game, such as pigeon. You can also flavour the salt with citrus, herbs or spices. Lemon zest and fennel seeds work well with the kohlrabi and imbue the salt with a nice flavour.
