My first thought when intercepting this recipe from The British Housewife by Martha Bradley (1756) was “who would think to ferment turnips?” Followed by, if turnips, then why not some other vegetable? Fermentation in turnip wine is aided through the added sugar. I searched for other turnip wine recipes, all of which use similar proportions of sugar to turnip juice. Some leave out the brandy, but add fresh lemon and orange juice. Check out this ode-to-turnips website, www.turniprecipes.co.uk part of a series of websites from EatSeasonal.co.uk. Yep, you read it here.
There are a number of “eat seasonally” resources online, and the UK has some great offerings, including eatseasonably.co.uk , eattheseasons.co.uk , and in North America, eattheseasons.com. Lest you think growing season long past here’s a list of vegetables from eattheseasons.com a their peak now: broccoli, broccolini, brussels sprouts, butternut squash, celery root, collards, fennel, leeks, mache, potatoes (maincrop), pumpkin, rutabaga, salsify, sweet potatoes, sunchoke, and of course, turnips.
Let me know if anyone has tasted or made this.
The British Housewife, page 82.
is not a halfling. pass
What?
My family eats them raw. I am not so sure about wine.
Maybe if they distilled it into turnip vodka..but “wine”? I think I’ll pass. 😉
obscure reference to hobbits and their love of root vegatables
I got an inkling that’s what you meant. My husband would have got it!
As I was looking through an old, favorite Catholic church cookbook for beet recipes, I not only found one for beet jelly, but was also intrigued by one for beet wine. In fact, I recently planted a third harvest of beets for the specific purpose of the latter. Typical of church cookbooks and like The British Housewife above, the recipes sketch out the process, but aren’t very clear with the specifics. In looking up more beet wine recipes on the internet, I came across someone’s reference to a substitution of turnips for the beets. Presently, I have an abundance of turnips (I love my root vegetables). Having referred to this site a couple of weeks ago, I started my first batch of turnip wine.
With a gallon of water, some whole allspice, whole black peppercorns, one or two bay leaves, a gently smashed nutmeg, and a cinnamon stick,I boiled 15 – 20 small/medium-sized, peeled and quartered turnips for about 15 minutes until tender. I let the pot sit uncovered overnight.
In the morning, I left in the spices and removed only the turnips. Measuring the liquid, I added some leftover, black sun tea (tannic acid) to replenish the gallon amount with which I started. At first, I put only two pounds of sugar and brought the brew to a boil. Wafting alone, the spiced fragrance was intoxicating. But a spoonful’s taste revealed it needed more sugar, so I can vouch for adding the third pound. After a total of ten minutes of boiling, I strained the liquid through an old dish towel into a 2 gallon crock and let it cool. I made a mixture of one tablespoon yeast and a little water to a paste consistency, spread it on a slice of dried out sourdough bread and floated it on top of the cooled liquid. I covered the crock with a clean dish towel on top, secured it with a rubber band, and after a day or so brought it all down to the cellar.
After the first week, I took a turkey baster and sampled a shot glass of the murky liquid. It was fermenting aromatically and, peculiar as it was, I really liked the taste.
This morning, after the second week has passed, I brought up the cloudy ferment from the basement. Removing the slice of bread and yeast, I carefully ladled the wine into a wide mouth gallon jar. Of course, I sampled it and let the flavor stay with me as I set a second batch to boil. For this second batch, I’m doubling the recipe and making two gallons.
At this point, the flavor of the turnip wine first comes sweetly to the palate, but then a playful bite of the spiced root almost relaxes into an autumn hearth. The charm lingers on the tongue — both friendly and daring — like the haunting of a familiar, but favorite ghost.
I wondered about the quantity of brandy to add, and the when, so I revisited this site and find myself sharing this process. There is space in my gallon jar for a half pint of brandy which I will add to the opaque liquor. I have it covered with a cloth napkin and secured with a rubber band. After it sets for a couple few months and becomes crystal clear, I’ll let you know how it turns out.
Hopefully, it’ll be ready for my Thanksgiving Feast, when I have my roots (beets, turnips, carrots, sweet potato, parsnip, rutabaga, onion and garlic) roasted in a hot oven through which a young duck will quickly fly.
A flight of turnip wine, roasted roots, young duck? Preceded by a course of homemade pumpkin ravioli in a browned butter sage cream sauce with a pour of beet wine? Doesn’t this say yes?
Sounds great! Thanks for sharing, let me know how it goes!
Becky, thanks so much for sharing this recipe of Martha Bradley’s from The British Housewife (1756). I have had so much fun in the making of the turnip wine, and, in the sampling of it along the way and in the telling of these stories, I have been filled with the eager anticipation to share the root of results.
For a Harvest Moon Dinner last Thursday, I premiered both my turnip wine and beet wine (chilled), pairing them each with subsequent courses. My mother, my cousin and his wife, and one of my brothers and his wife were all guests. (Little did they know what they were getting into!)
The first two courses were served on the lakeside porch just before sunset. The first course was water with lemon served with a tray of nuts (toasted pecans, roasted cashews and almonds) and Gjetoast cheese with sliced fresh pears and apples from the fruit trees here on the farm.
For the second course, I poured the beautifully colored, magenta, beet wine into little cordial glasses and served it with my neon-pink Pickled Turnips, fresh Baba Ghannouj and Hot Dill Spears. I also put out an elongated crystal relish tray with some of my Hot Chocolate Balsamic Beets along side my Yellow Squash Pickles with dollops of fresh Horse Radish at either end.
For the third course, we moved indoors to the muted candle light of the dining room where a three ounce pour of my turnip wine awaited in old wine glasses. The turnip wine was paired with Saur Kraut Chicken (skinned chicken thighs topped with homemade red saur kraut, Swiss cheese and thousand island dressing, baked until golden, molten and bubbly), roasted roots (carrots, turnips, beets, three different potatoes – red, purple and gold – and garlic, dressed with olive oil, doused with salt and finely shredded sage), and lastly, two halves of a buttercup squash stuffed with chopped apples and pears, chopped toasted pecans, raisins and craisins, honey, maple syrup, pear jelly and butter.
The dessert course was served with coffee or espresso and included a choice: the first option was bread pudding warm from the oven with hard sauce( butter, powdered sugar, brandy and nutmeg); the second choice was a Purple Velvet Flourless Torte (made from the juice and pulp of beets mixed with honey and eggs, it “looks like a cake, yet tastes like a pudding”) topped with whipped cream and then drizzled with a balsamic beet syrup.
While I really like both of my young wines, I have to say that my favorite of the two is the turnip wine. The sweet, playful, fermented spicy root reminded my cousin’s wife of Christmas. My daughter thinks it would be good served in front of the fireplace on a cold winter’s night. My mother preferred the beautiful cordial of beet wine, as did my brother. And even though she’s also an artist, my sister-in-law would try neither!
Although I think both of these wines will ripen nicely and get even better with age, the exciting thing for me was how good they are even at this young age. And while I will set aside some of these for future consumption, I yet have beets and turnips in the garden to make More!
Sounds like a great dinner Carl! Glad to hear the turnip wine came through as a favorite. Now I have to try it!