Sputnik and cheese
We get a fortnightly delivery of organic vegetables from a local farm.
The most recent delivery included kohlrabi, which is a member of the cabbage family. It's green and spherical and it bears a remarkable resemblance to Sputnik.
One cookery web site says of kohlrabi:
Kohl rabi (or kohlrabi) is one of those vegetables that makes a regular appearance in veg boxes, but sits, unused, in the corner of the fridge until it slowly goes off.
Another observers:
When the first kohlrabi of the season arrived unannounced in our organic vegetable box last week, my wife gawped at its Space Hopper belly and leafy Mr Tickle arms, before asking: what exactly is this? I suspect her reaction is not uncommon. After all, you rarely find kohlrabi in British supermarkets. Or restaurants. Or cookery books. It's big in Germany, apparently, but then so is David Hasselhoff.
It turns out that kohlrabi is very good served au gratin. I suspect the same can't be said about David Hasselhoff.
The most recent delivery included kohlrabi, which is a member of the cabbage family. It's green and spherical and it bears a remarkable resemblance to Sputnik.
One cookery web site says of kohlrabi:
Kohl rabi (or kohlrabi) is one of those vegetables that makes a regular appearance in veg boxes, but sits, unused, in the corner of the fridge until it slowly goes off.
Another observers:
When the first kohlrabi of the season arrived unannounced in our organic vegetable box last week, my wife gawped at its Space Hopper belly and leafy Mr Tickle arms, before asking: what exactly is this? I suspect her reaction is not uncommon. After all, you rarely find kohlrabi in British supermarkets. Or restaurants. Or cookery books. It's big in Germany, apparently, but then so is David Hasselhoff.
It turns out that kohlrabi is very good served au gratin. I suspect the same can't be said about David Hasselhoff.