K is for kohlrabi

Three things initially attracted me to using a kohlrabi:

1. It's purple

2. It looks like it's not of this earth

3. It was the only thing I could think of that began with a k

So, not the deepest of deep thinking, but still, the look of the bulb entranced me - a round, violet, betendrilled monster.

But where to start? I'd never eaten kohlrabi, let alone prepared one or cooked with it, so I didn't really know where to start after I took one home from a nearby grocer.

A quick Google, and I hit upon the Classic Stuffed Kohlrabi recipe on the Abel and Cole site which I tweaked by (obviously) removing the meat, and replace it with nuts, as well as swapping out the cream and butter for vegan equivalents.

It all went down here from there. Once I got the kohlrabi's bright purple skin off, there was just a pale, bulbous veggie underneath. 

The recipe says "spoon out the inside", implying the sort of dainty activity that could be attempted by a weary toddler. Not so - you'd need more a spoon with a chainsaw edge to accomplish the removal of a kohlrabi insides without much swearing and straining of muscles.

Stil, some minutes of wrestling and cursing later, and a denuded kohlrabi lay before me. Stuffed, it went into the pan to simmer for 45 minutes.

Yes, 45 minutes. I could have ordered a takeaway and have it delivered in that time, but this was a new veggie! I was willing to wait.

And was all the simmering worth it? Er, no.

The stuffing tasted of sod all, but that's by the by - I was here for the kohlrabi.

What a disappointment then to find out it was fibrous, tasteless and much like a potato without any redeeming features. Argh!

Still, not all my experiments can be a success, and I've learned one very important lesson: never judge a vegetable by its cover.