Bowl of radishes, 2020.
family observations

How Could I Not Love Radishes?

About a month ago now, just before the COVID-19 pandemic grocery-buying panic, I bought a large bunch of radishes at Fresh Thyme. There were especially lovely and fresh and I hadn’t had radishes in ages.

I cleaned them all at once, because that’s the easiest thing to do with radishes, and put them in a bowl.

Bowl of radishes, 2020.
Bowl of radishes, 2020.

I immediately ate several of them before putting the bowl in the fridge, where I could retrieve radishes when I wanted.

I love radishes. My husband does not. While he does not put them on the same scale of awfulness as beets, he finds that both of them are too earthy for his taste. The earthiness is precisely why I like them.

How could I not like radishes?

When my mom was pregnant with me, she craved radishes. She would walk to the grocery store and buy two bags. She’d bring them home, clean the radishes and eat them all in one sitting. That’s a lot of radishes.

My love affair with radishes started in utero. Can’t go back much farther than that.

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