Yesterday, while I was organizing some children’s books, I came across “The Turnip,” which I wrote about yesterday.

Reading it again put me into even more of a turnip frame of mind.

And I was thinking how ironic it is that turnips are so under appreciated in the United States but are considered so worthwhile in Europe that dozens of folk tales — not just the one about the huge turnip — have been written about them.

Like the one about a poor farmer who exchanges a cartload of turnips for a magical musical instrument which he plays and wins the heart of a beautiful princess.

And a Russian legend that tells of elves who steal all of a farmer’s turnips and when he goes after the thieves they refuse to give up the vegetables and instead give him a magic tablecloth that provides food, a goat who sneezes gold coins and a whistle that dispatches with unwanted guests.

And the one about the rabbit who gives his turnip to a poor family who gives it to an even poorer family who gives it to another, needier family who gives it to the most destitute of all — the rabbit.

Of course folk tales are often about the poor and needy. And the truth is that the rich have always disdained turnips as coarse, harsh, humble fare, fit only for the underclass.

But at one time oats had that reputation too. Samuel Johnson said oats were eaten by people in Scotland but only by horses in England. Nowadays everyone, rich, poor and in between, eats oats.

Same goes for beans. Saint Jerome forbade the nuns in his charge to eat any.

And potatoes, once thought poisonous so only animals and the poorest of the poor ate them. Today our fanciest restaurants serve beans and potatoes. 

So I can’t see any reason why we shouldn’t eat more turnips. They add variety, they’re widely available and are inexpensive. And, when made the right way, they taste good.

Like in this recipe, which is an absolutely perfect accompaniment to roasted chicken, baked fish and pot roast.

Rutabaga and Potato Croquettes

1-1/3 cups mashed potatoes

2/3 cup mashed cooked rutabaga

1/8 teaspoon grated nutmeg

salt (about 3/4 teaspoon) and freshly ground black pepper to taste

2 large egg yolks

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

1 large egg

2 tablespoons vegetable or chicken stock or milk

2/3 cup packed fresh breadcrumbs

vegetable oil for frying

Mix the mashed potatoes, mashed rutabaga, nutmeg, salt, pepper and egg yolks together in a bowl. (To make mashed potato and rutabaga, peel and dice the vegetables, then boil in water for abut 15 minutes.) Shape portions of the mixture into finger shapes about 2-inches long, 1-inch wide. Dredge the fingers in the flour. Beat the whole egg and stock together in a dish. Coat the flour coated fingers with the egg mixture. Press the fingers into the breadcrumbs, coating all sides. Refrigerate for about one hour. Heat about 1/2-inch vegetable oil in a large saute pan over medium-high heat. Add the fingers, a few at a time, leaving space between them so they can fry properly. Fry for 3-5 minutes, turning the fingers to brown all sides, or until well browned. Drain on paper towels. Makes 4 servings

Yesterday I wrote about turnips and it made me think of an old folk tale about a man who plants a turnip but it grows so enormous he can’t get it out of the ground. So he asks his wife to help and still they can’t pull it out. And then they get their grandson, then the dog — the cat — and they all pull together and still nothing — and so on with helpers — a hen, pig, rooster and so on, until finally, a little bird comes along and they all pull at the turnip and it comes out of the earth and of course the little bird thinks he is the hero.

My children loved this story and now it’s a favorite of the grandkids.

That doesn’t mean turnips are their favorites though.

It’s hard enough to convince grown ups to try turnips. Almost impossible when it comes to kids.

But honestly, if you buy the right kind of turnip you can cook a lot of terrific side dishes all winter. And these go perfectly with roasts and baked fish and vegetarian dinners.

The point about turnips is to buy the smallest ones because they’re more delicate. Huge oversized turnips like the one in the folk tale can be as bitter and harsh as a cranky relative.

Turnips are kin to cabbage and broccoli. These vegetables also used to get a bad rap but everyone eats them nowadays. Rutabagas are also turnip cousins and, in fact, you can substitute rutabagas, which are milder than white turnips, (they’re often called “yellow turnips” or “Swedes”) in most turnip recipes. Like this lovely, rich rutabaga and potato casserole, an old Welsh recipe.

Stwns

1 pound diced peeled rutabaga

1 pound diced peeled all-purpose potatoes

4 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 leeks, cleaned and chopped

2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

1 teaspoon salt or to taste

freshly ground black pepper to taste

1/2 cup dairy sour cream, plain yogurt or buttermilk

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place the rutabaga and potato dice in a large saucepan, cover with water and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer for about 15 minutes or until the vegetables are tender. Drain the pan and mash the vegetables. Heat the butter and vegetable oil in a saute pan over medium heat. When the butter has melted and looks foamy, add the leeks and cook, stirring often, for 3-4 minutes or until softened. Add the contents of the pan to the mashed vegetables. Add the parsley, salt and pepper and mix ingredients. Add the sour cream and mix to incorporate it completely. Place the mixture inside a casserole dish. Bake for 10-15 minutes or until hot. Makes 6-8 servings