First question–before I even sit down in my doctor’s office to discuss my annual comprehensive test results:
“What did you do with that turnip?”
Shows where my priorities lie!
Flashback: We’d bumped into each other at the vegetable stall in Lautrec a few days earlier.
I’d not seen Michel there before. Usually he’s on the road doing his rounds at that hour, making house calls.
He had bought a single medium size turnip–the beautiful purple and cream variety.
It was the singularity of the purchase that intrigued.
And turnips were on my mind.
The day after the Lautrec meeting, a stall-holder in Castres market had tucked two black turnips into the brown paper bag holding my other purchases from him.
“Cadeau!” he’d said [Gift!]–a generous gesture, as I hadn’t spent more than five euros.
Ungenerously, I could speculate that this variety is be more difficult to sell on its looks.
Nonetheless, an encouragement to return the following week to his excellent stall.
Michel, the GP–bucked by the way our rendezvous had kicked off–and delighted by the diversion from yet another routine examination, launches into a detailed account of what he did with his beautiful cousin of my navet noire [black turnip].
The test results are shoved firmly onto the back burner–while he regales me with how he made his ravishing “poisson au sauce de navet” [fish with turnip sauce]. (!!!)
A pause, while we both metaphorically digest this delicacy.
We then both get up– as a gesture to getting on with the real purpose of the visit–and edge towards the examination couch.
The turnips will not lie down though.
Happy for further delay, I ask Michel about what to do with my navet noire.
The upshot being not too different from what to do with his purple-cheeked cousin.
As he finally gets to listen to the interior workings of my chest through his stethoscope, I mention that to describe someone as a turnip in England is not polite.
“Oui, it has other less-than-complimentary meanings in French too,” he says.
Then he chuckles as he indicates the weighing machine.
“Natalie [his wife] will be amused when she hears about our meeting–be sure to tell Meredith, too!”
We resume our seats at his desk and he writes out my quarterly prescription; leafing through my results, he gives me the thumbs up.
Just before I leave he says:
“You bought a cabbage last Friday. I love cabbage. What did you do with it?”
Robin Ellis 
Wonderful way to start a conversation! And so glad to hear of the thumbs up!! Cheers!
My kingdom for a physician with whom I can discuss turnips and who makes house calls!
OK…I have spent my lifetime telling people that I did not like turnips. I eat almost anything else (except boiled egg whites) and, after reading your blog today, paused to reflect on why I do not like turnips. Suddenly, I realize that I have no memory of ever tasting turnips, but I have a very real recollection of my mother telling a story about not liking turnips since she nearly poisoned herself as a child by eating a root she assumed was a turnip! The upshot is that I’m now going to look for some turnip recipes. Thanks!
Me too, Joy!
Robin
From my grandmother I learned to love the purple cream variety of turnip. She would cut the turnip up into slices (not that easy since it is hard) and take off the peel. Then she would put it in a pressure cooker. Once out of pressure cooker she would mash up turnip and put in it tiny slices of bacon. It was delicious. I found out that other Irish American families would do the same but substitute small pieces of cooked carrot for the bacon. This was good too.
Florence
Thanks, Florence.
Lovely to get a new post from you. Looking forward to hearing about your further adventures with the turnip in the kitchen.
All the best
Tina
Good to hear all is well Robin and I am sure your doctor appreciates a bit of banter!
Best wishes as always, Heidi x
Thanks, Heidi!
What a beautiful story. How fortunate you are to have a doctor who likes to prepare healthy food and appreciates fresh vegetables. So what did you do with the cabbage?
“Interesting Cabbage” from my last cookbook.
THANK U RE TURNIPS. AS AN ONCOLOGY NURSE WAS ALWAYS CONFRONTED WITH CHALLENGES PATIENTS HAD TO DEAL WITH ESPECIALLY IF THEIR DIETS WERE POOR BEFORE DIAGNOSIS AS U AND THE WORLD KNOWS MANY AMERICANS ARE OBESE AND STILL DO NOT CARE
AS A VEGETARIAN AND WITH MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS AM ALWAYS HAPPYTO READ YOUR POSTINGS ABOUT FOOD
THANK YOU FOR YOUR POSTINGS AND VIVE LA FRANCE
REGARDS FROM THE BROOKLYN CATS OF 2C AND THEIR SERVANT CLAIRE
Thanks Claire and hi! to your Brooklyn cats.
Sounds like you live in a small town where everyone knows your business. I didn’t know people would be interested in another person’s diet, however!
You must live in a small town where everyone knows your business. I didn’t know their curiosity extended to one’s diet, however!
French people are always interested in food. They feel they invented it.
Didn’t mean to send duplicate responses. I couldn’t see that the first one had posted and then a page popped up saying I needed to sign in on Word Press to post. Sorry for the duplication — certainly didn’t warrant it
What did you do with the cabbage?
“Interesting Cabbage”–recipe in my last book!
Wow, a Doctor that makes House Calls
When I was a kid my mum used to dice carrots, turnips, parsnips and put them in a bag for me and my brother to munch on when we went out.
I did the same for my boys with fruit.
Slave, Dog Handler, General Dogs Body, Miracle Worker
You did well.
Another light and well written piece . Thank you Robin. I always look forward to reading your blog. My Dad passed in 2016 , aged 104 and my Mum, who is now in a Nursing Home , turned 100 yesterday. They were dairy farmers in their working lives and ate lots of fresh food , including turnips and cabbage.
Felicitations to your mother–great news.
Delightful encounter…I smiled all the way through reading it. I grew up eating lots of homegrown turnips and although they are not on my favorites list, I am happy I met them! Thank you, Robin, for another warm, wonderful blog. I am still hoping (against hope) to take a cooking class with you. Dare I dream?
On verra–one says here!
Dear Sir
Great entertaining post. We have turnips like that in our open air market here too.
My wife only recently started cooking them. She is a Northerner, and there is a stigma attached there to turnips, especially turnip greens, southern soul food, etc.
I grew up on them, cooked with fat back and served with raw sweet onion and mild pickle relish.
All the best
Delicious.
You could actually make a mild pickle relish with your ratatouille, but skip the tomatoes, and add, say, minced mild Greek pepperoncinis. That would make a wonderful pickle relish for turnip greens. Diced sweet onion is required.
Robin,another wonderful post!
You take a visit to the doctor,and!the most mundane subjects–turnips and cabbage–and turn it into something enjoyable.
Thank you!
A really enjoyable post, having spent quite a bit of time at the g.p.surgery recently , it mnade me smile.