[edibleseasonals]
Horseradish Packs a powerful punch
I
BY ELLEN JACKSON
first experienced the power of horseradish at a swanky sushi restaurant in midtown Manhattan. My boss, the editorial director of the publishing house that employed me, had invited me to lunch. I was a wide-eyed English major, new to New York and the notion of making a “living” from my hard-won liberal arts degree. I wasn’t a total sushi neophyte, but close to it. I took one look at my sushi board, laden with jewel-like morsels of pinky-fresh fish perched on pearly grains of rice and noriwrapped packages festooned with roe and quail eggs, and I froze. I assessed each bite for its ease of delivery to my mouth, chewed on a few slices of pickled ginger, and then, still unsure where to begin, scooped up the little green wasabi pyramid with my chopsticks and popped it in my mouth. As it turns out, heat doesn’t come exclusively from capsaicin-based plants like habanero and jalapeño chiles, whose burn builds slowly on the tongue.
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The nasal-clearing heat that exploded through my sinuses came from horseradish—not wasabi, a luxury item that is expensive and rare. Even in Japan, it is widely accepted that the majority of restaurants substitute a concoction of western horseradish powder and Chinese mustard, dyed green, for wasabi. (Ironically, Portlanders may find authentic wasabi alongside their pickled ginger. It grows along Oregon’s central coast, where the weather closely matches that of Japan’s premier wasabi growing regions, and is shipped to high-end restaurants and markets around the country.) Horseradish, Armoracia rusticana, is a perennial from the Brassicaceae family,which includes spicy members like radish and mustard, and cruciferous vegetables, such as cabbage, cauliflower, kale and Brussels sprouts. Sometimes called “German mustard,” horseradish has an edible, thin
brown skin and ornamental green leaves. Small white flowers grow from the plant’s large stems, not unlike mustard blooms. Though hardy and easy to grow, home gardeners rarely plant horseradish because its gnarly underground roots spread aggressively, becoming invasive when left untended. Native to southeastern Europe and western Asia, where it still grows wild, horseradish was known by the Egyptians around 1500 B.C. and has symbolized the bitter herb on the Seder plate at Passover since Biblical times. During the Middle Ages, the root was prized for its medicinal qualities (as a tonic, diuretic and diaphoretic), and early Europeans used it as medicine too, rubbing it on sore joints to relieve rheumatism and pressing it to foreheads to alleviate headaches, a practice that may actually have helped to lessen sinus pain. Now cultivated in many parts of the world, horseradish was naturalized in southern Canada and the northeastern United States during colonial times. Traditionally, the root was peeled, grated and served immediately as a relish to accompany boiled meats. Once grated, it loses potency quickly. Grated horseradish became available commercially in the 19th century, preserved in vinegar and bottled in brown-tinted glass to disguise the turnip filler included in each bottle. Then, in 1869, H. J. Heinz began his business in Sharpsburg, Pennsylvania, where he packed grated fresh horseradish in clear bottles using a recipe from his mother. Today, horseradish is bottled in a combination of vinegar and salt, blended into a cream sauce or combined with mustard to make Creole or—the British version—Tewkesbury mustard, a condiment that dates back to Shakespeare’s time. Horseradish grown in Oregon makes its way into locally produced condiments like those from Beaverton Foods, best known for their line of mustards. Because it is easy to find commercially—fresh at farmers’ markets and in produce aisles—horseradish is a garden crop for true connoisseurs. The root is planted in the spring for harvesting in late fall or early winter, after a hard frost. Most gardeners agree that digging the roots in the fall both eliminates the chance for the plant to grow out of control and improves its quality. Clean roots can be stored in a cold (32°F), moist area. A whole horseradish is inert and has almost no aroma. When its cells are crushed, they release vaporous oils in a chain reaction, which can be stopped with vinegar. For the spiciest blend, wait several minutes after grating before adding vinegar, preferably rice wine vinegar or a similarly mild variety that won’t compete with the clean zing of the freshly grated root. Refrigerated, the mixture will keep several months, losing flavor and darkening as it ages. Though we think of it as the de facto accompaniment to beef and oysters, horseradish enhances soups and salads, particularly those that feature winter vegetables, many of which are roots themselves. A Bloody Mary is greatly improved by a dollop of horseradish, and it’s the indispensable ingredient in the old-school cocktail sauce for dunking Oregon pink shrimp.
Mama Stamberg’s Cranberry Relish This shocking pink version of cranberry relish comes from NPR special correspondent Susan Stamberg’s mother-in-law. It’s legendary and incredibly delicious, especially on turkey sandwiches.
2 cups whole raw Oregon cranberries, washed
1 small white onion, quartered
3/4 cup sour cream 1/2 cup sugar
1 tsp kosher salt
2 Tbsp freshly grated horseradish (or 3 Tbsp from a jar)
1. The night before, use a food processor to pulse the cranberries and onion until they are still slightly chunky. Stop before you have a smooth puree. Add the other ingredients and combine well. Put the relish in a plastic container with a lid and freeze. 2. The next morning, put the frozen relish in the refrigerator to thaw slightly. It should retain some of its icy slivers when served. Makes 1 1/2 pints Recipe by Susan Stamberg
According to the International Herb Association, 2011 is The Year of the Horseradish. How will you celebrate? May I recommend an early start? If your holiday table is built around a turkey, try Mama Stamberg’s Cranberry Relish. For standing rib roast, there’s no better sidekick than horseradish cream. Ring in the New Year with oysters and welcome it the next morning with Bloody Marys. Add monthly excursions for sushi, of course. Just go easy on the “wasabi.” ep
Ellen Jackson is a Portland-based writer and food stylist.
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