Turnips and Rutabagas

I’ve always been fond of rutabagas, sometimes called neeps, Swedish turnips or just swedes. Aside from being a sweet-but-savoury addition to many a hearty soup, stew or mash, rutabaga (from the Swedish rotabagge meaning lumpy root, more or less) is just plain fun to say. Sometime during the 16th or 17th century, serendipity crossed an ordinary (albeit promiscuous) turnip with an even more ordinary cabbage and came up with, well, an ordinary rutabaga. I say ordinary with some reservations. Brassicas are often thought of as peasant fare, even livestock feed, and are rarely elevated to haute cuisine, but there is much to say for them all, especially the lowly rutabaga.

People often confuse rutabagas for turnips and while they are related – fellow brassicas, in fact – there are differences. Turnips are small, about the size of a tennis ball (or smaller, if you can find them), grow in a variety of climates and are in season only in the fall. They’re usually white with purplish tops and are a little watery with a spicy flavour similar to radishes (also brassicas). Larger turnips can be woody and will probably need to be peeled.

Meanwhile, rutabagas are much larger but best when they’re about the size of a softball (about 4 inches in diameter), although they can get much bigger. Rutabagas are yellow skinned with purple tops, dense fleshed and sweeter than turnips. They only grow in cool climates, with a season from October to March, making them the perfect winter vegetable. Both turnip and rutabaga greens are eminently edible, similar to collard greens, even salad worthy when very young and tender.

While both turnips and rutabagas are fine to eat raw, their earthy savour really comes to the fore when they’re cooked, whether roasted, mashed or added to robust soups and stews. As members of the cabbage family, they share that cruciferous flavour profile with cauliflower, broccoli, Brussels sprouts and radish.

Interestingly, it was a turnip (or more likely a rutabaga) the Irish carved into a jack-o’-lantern, only adopting the more readily available pumpkin after the great migration to America. The practice obviously caught on. Swedes and white turnips are both referred to simply as turnips in Great Britain, Scotland especially.

We commonly think of turnips and rutabagas as root vegetables, and so they are for all intents and purposes, but they are in fact the enlarged base of the stem. Originally much slimmer, they have become round as a result of centuries of crossbreeding.

Classic nursery food, my favourite way of eating rutabagas outside of a stew or soup like Scotch broth, is as a mash with carrots. It was present on every Christmas and Thanksgiving table my grandmother set. Simplicity itself, cook peeled chopped rutabaga and carrots in salted water (or stock, if you have it) until very soft. Drain and mash together with lots of butter and black pepper, with freshly grated nutmeg and salt to taste. This can be prepared as a purée and baked until golden and puffy, but I prefer the coarser texture of the hand mashed.

Another clever way to use rutabagas is in these colourful vegetable latkes.

1 medium-sized orange-fleshed sweet potato, peeled
1 small rutabaga, peeled
2 medium parsnips, peeled
1 medium onion, peeled
15-30 ml (1-2 Tbsp) finely chopped chives or scallions
2 large eggs
30 ml (2 Tbsp) flour
5 ml (1 tsp) kosher salt
2.5 ml (½ tsp) freshly grated black pepper
Vegetable oil for frying

In a food processor, or by hand with a box grater, shred the sweet potato, rutabaga, parsnips and onion. Transfer to a tea-towel-lined colander set over a bowl. Wring out as much liquid as you can into the bowl, then let sit for 10-15 minutes. Wring out once again, then drain off the water in the bowl, leaving any starch at the bottom. Put the shredded vegetables into the bowl and add the flour, eggs, salt and pepper, mixing well with your hands.

Preheat oven to 95 C (200 F) and line a baking sheet with paper towels.

Heat a non-stick pan or well-seasoned cast iron skillet over medium heat with about 60 ml (¼ cup) oil until shimmering, about 165 C (325 F). Carefully drop about 30 ml (2 Tbsp) of the mixture into the hot oil and spread out to about 7.5 cm (3 inches) with a fork. Cook until crispy around the edges and flip, about 4-5 minutes a side. Sprinkle with salt while hot. Transfer the pancakes to the baking sheet as you cook each batch to keep warm in the oven. Serve hot with sour cream and applesauce.