Radish

The radish – underrated even by the one who named it – has been chosen to be forever known as rad-ish, not rad. From the onset of one’s introduction to this root vegetable, it is established, by name, as something that will neither disappoint nor excite. It is held in a state of never-ending mediocrity in the minds of most. While the exterior color is vibrant and striking (ranging from bright, almost unnatural, magenta to deep, solid red to vibrant purple and the more mellow shades of the plant world – whites and greens), the average onlooker is somehow immune to the radish’s commendable attempts at visual attraction. This is one rare, but consistent, instance in which people successfully avoid judging a book by its cover.

Put it in a salad. When the average person is presented with a beautiful, shining, freshly picked radish with lightly fuzzy, tender greens bursting from the top, the only use that comes to mind is a minor component for a garden salad. Cut off the wispy tail of the root, cut off the bunch of greens that protrude from the head of the radish, slice thinly, and place on top of mild, unoffensive, more commonly accepted produce. There is no consideration for the energy that went into growing those all-too-often dismissed greens, treated like the middle child of the vegetable world and resigned to their existence in the compost bin. There is simply no second thought as to whether this action is the proper one to take. The greens are set as a returning visitor to the disposal center. They fill their predetermined position in the same way the radish does as an established performer on the off-Broadway stage that is the salad, tragically bound to a role that will always be good but never satisfying the full potential of the little root that is never given a chance.

Known for being bitter, strong, and spicy, the radish is prevented from showing its gentler side, the side that demands admiration, not for its pungent assault of the taste buds, but for its subtle beauty and invitation to contemplate its complex layers. The simple addition of heat changes the entire flavor profile of the jewel-toned delicacy to showcase its sweetness, not its raw bite. Exactly as a blanket and cup of hot cocoa warm the soul of the weary, cold-hardened traveler, coaxing them to show a friendly side that not many have seen, the comforting warmth of the oven relaxes the radish and slowly draws out the little-known sweetness that lies beneath. The change in flavor reveals the radish’s deep gratitude to the handler for knowing its fondness for heat and careful attention.

There is simply nothing as beautiful as a roasted radish. It magically maintains the vibrancy of its fuchsia skin, while developing a lightly golden tone to the exposed interior surface. It appears marginally varied from its raw and freshly picked counterpart, while still embracing a relatively firm texture. The roasted radish presents the eater with a confusing paradox, something to occupy the mind while the physical senses are fully immersed in the depth of the little root. We know that cooking a fresh vegetable is supposed to remove the sense of crispness and leave in its place a soul-warming richness reminiscent of the winter months, not the summer. However, that is not taking into account that this little root has powers beyond those of the typical root vegetable. The radish absorbs the warmth of the oven like the warmth of the sun. The heat holds in the moisture instead of sucking it out. Instead of the wonderful ruby red gem being imbued with a richness, it is made to release an unmatched sense of freshness upon every bite. The juicy, refreshing, crisp qualities of the roasted radish embody the feeling of summertime more than any other (no, even peach ice cream does not match the bar set by our lovely little radish).

It is likely that folks reading this may think I am being dramatic, which may be true. However, I believe that intentionally making one’s passion known is useful and even necessary in drawing long-awaited attention to the topics that are systematically suppressed. There was a point in time, not more than a year ago, that I would have been skeptical of this intense praise for such an inconspicuous vegetable. I will admit that it is difficult to fully understand the importance of the radish without having been the lucky recipient of its kindness in the most perfect form – sweet, tender, and succulent. I still vividly remember the moment I became aware of the care held within a radish. The instant I bit down on the small slice of heaven, I was struck with a feeling of awe, revitalization, and hope. I was perplexed and amazed, but able to perceive the truth revealed by the radish. It lives to provide life, not only sustenance.

Even in the garden, the radish is a shining example of sweetness. It can grow among any other crop without hostilities. The radish truly gets along with everyone. It neither hinders the progress of those around it, nor gets discouraged by its peers. The radish has no enemies. The radish aims to please. Despite being constantly overlooked and kept from shining at its brightest, the radish grows quickly and does not complain with the changing weather. It does this to be kind, to bring happiness to its growers. By being the first leaves to sprout and chugging along throughout the seasons the radish gives its growers hope. Giving constantly without return can lead one to be bitter, but once the slightest bit of care and warmth is reciprocated, the generosity within will show. There are many lessons to be learned from the kind and simple radish.