Meat-radish carpaccio

“Green Meat Radishes.”

Huh? LFFC’s weekly share-contents email had me headed straight to Google.

Chinese Green Meat Radishes—I'd seen them in the market, but never knew what they were called.
Chinese Green Meat Radishes—I’d seen them in the market, but never knew what they were called.

Turns out I did know what they were—I’d just never heard them called that. They’re a green version of the gorgeous Watermelon Relish, which—who knew?—is also called a Red Meat Radish. Raw, the flavor reminds me of Daikon, with just a bit more sweet and a bit less pepper.

Not pretty in pink, but this cousin of the ravishing Watermelon radish is still pretty.
Not pretty in pink, but this cousin of the ravishing Watermelon radish is still pretty.

I based the dish below on one from the “dirt list” at Philadelphia’s gastronomic gem, Vedge, where Rich Landau and Kate Jacoby work magic nightly with roots and stems and flowers and seeds. The restaurant’s Watermelon Radish Carpaccio with Fava Beans and Tarragon is a visually stunning plate. And while the green meat’s kaleidoscope is far more subtle than the red’s, the technique transfers beautifully—and so does the flavor. Instead of favas, I pulled some of last summer’s home-grown edamame out of the freezer, and instead of tarragon, I subbed in a handful of fresh watercress that was also in this week’s sharebox.

Green meat radish carpaccio with edamame and cress

Adapted from Vedge: 100 Plates Large and Small that Redefine Vegetable Cooking. Serves 2 to 4 as a light course or side.

  • 1/2 pound Chinese green meat radishes (2 4-inch radishes)
  • about 2 tbsp olive oil (divided)
  • 1-1/2 tsp minced shallots
  • 1/2 tsp minced garlic
  • 3 tbsp dry white wine
  • 1/2 cup vegetable stock
  • 1/2 cup shelled edamame
  • small handful of watercress, chopped fine
  • salt and pepper, to taste
A gentle hand with the peeler won't destroy the internal pinwheel pattern.
A gentle hand with the peeler won’t destroy the internal pinwheel pattern.

Preheat the oven to 300º.

Scrub and lightly peel the radishes if there are any blemishes. Use a mandoline or very, very sharp knife and a steady hand to slice the radishes as thinly as possible. Toss the discs in a bowl with about 2 teaspoons of the oil and a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Transfer to a sheet pan and roast until just tender. Mine, which were pretty thin, took just 5 minutes; thicker coins might take closer to 7 or 8.

I'm still not quite adept with my mandoline, but I'm getting better.
I’m still tentative with my mandoline, but I’m getting better. All fingers intact.

While the rads are in the oven, heat another 2 teaspoons of the oil in a sauté pan. Over medium heat, brown the shallots and garlic (with another pinch each of salt and pepper) for a few minutes. Stir frequently, because minced bits can quickly get crunchy or downright burnt, and you want these to end up brown but still soft.

Stir frequently, since minced bits can quickly crunch up and turn bitter.
Minced aromatics can quickly crunch up and turn bitter, so stir often and don’t get distracted.

Add the wine (I used some leftover Sancerre I had in the fridge, but any dry white will do), and reduce it by half, about 3 to 5 minutes. Add the stock. Once it simmers, add the shelled beans. Let it burble away for another 3 to 5 minutes, until you have a thin-but-not-watery broth.

Put up in August (still in their shells), I plopped these soy beans, frozen, into boiling water for 5 minutes, shocked them in ice water, and freed them from their pods. Still perfect.
I plopped these put-up-in-August soy beans, frozen, into boiling water for 5 minutes, shocked them in ice water, and freed them from their pods. Still perfect.

Stir in the cress (or tarragon or other bright herb), and add a final drizzle of olive oil. Remove the pan from heat.

Arrange the radish slices on a rimmed plate or shallow bowl. Spoon some of the beans into the center, then ladle a bit of the broth over the whole thing. Serve warm.

Be sure to use a rimmed plate or a shallow bowl unless you want a wet table.
Be sure to use a rimmed plate or a shallow bowl unless you want a wet table.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Susan says:

    That’s funny, Alex. I bought one of those gloves a couple years ago after a little scalloped-potato mishap. Totally forgot I had it.

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