Growing up in a home with a Teutonic heritage, I was exposed to turnips at a young age and developed a strong aversion to them. To my youthful senses, they smelled like skunk and tasted even worse. Finding them in a pot of corned beef and cabbage was enough to spoil the entire meal for me.
Turnips are arguably one of the most polarizing of all root vegetables. Like broccoli and Brussels sprouts, turnips contain glucosinolates, sulfur-containing compounds that contribute to bitterness. Traditional varieties, such as traditional red top or golden turnips, deliver a sharp, peppery bite when raw and can emit a strong, pungent or even skunk-like odor if boiled or overcooked. This intense, mustard-like heat often makes them an acquired taste, particularly for those sensitive to bitter flavors.
During a visit to a farmers market a few years ago, I bought what I assumed was a bunch of white radishes. While they had the size and shape of globe radishes, their flavor profile was unexpectedly different: rather than a sharp, peppery punch, they were mildly sweet with an earthy, almost nut-like quality. When I returned the following week to praise his “radishes,” the vendor corrected me, explaining that they were actually Hakurei turnips.
While traditional red top and golden turnips have long been reliable winter root cellar staples, the Hakurei turnip – also known as the Tokyo turnip – emerged from 1950s Japan as a post-war solution to food shortages. Bred for rapid growth and exceptional flavor, both the pearly-white roots and their delicate greens are edible. Hakurei turnips lack the high glucosinolate levels that cause the characteristic mustard-like pungency found in standard varieties.
While Hakurei turnips can grow quite large, they are at their best – whether raw or cooked – when harvested at about 2 inches or less in diameter. These turnips truly define zero-waste cooking: their greens make an excellent sautéed side dish. Those delicate greens wilt rather quickly so they need to be taken care of right away. Upon returning from the market, trim the tops to leave approximately half an inch of stem on the root. For optimal freshness, wrap the greens in a damp paper towel and store them in a plastic bag in the refrigerator. When you are ready to cook, just submerge the greens in water, swish to clean and dry them with a lettuce spinner.
Hakurei turnips have tender skins and require no peeling. They have a much milder profile than standard varieties, and they are exceptionally versatile for raw preparations. I recommend first trying them raw to fully appreciate their crisp, radish-like texture and mild sweetness. They are a wonderful addition to salads, or you can prepare a Hakurei “carpaccio” by slicing them paper-thin, ideally using a mandoline. To make a simple vinaigrette that complements their earthy flavor, combine three parts olive oil with one part lemon juice. Add some lemon zest, a touch of honey or maple syrup for sweetness, and a pinch of coarse salt, then toss with the turnip slices.
The remarkable tenderness of Hakurei turnips means they cook much faster than most other root vegetables. My preferred method is to begin with a covered skillet containing water and melted butter; this allows the steam to perfectly soften the interiors. Once tender, I uncover the pan to let the moisture cook off, then fry the turnips in the butter until their edges achieve a beautiful brown sear. The Hakurei turnip truly shines by providing a complete, zero-waste dish within every bunch. By serving these naturally sweet, golden roots atop their own buttery, savory greens, you get the most out of the entire plant.
Hakurei turnips in miso butter glaze
The glaze brings out the vegetable’s inherent sweetness while producing a silky sauce for the turnips and tops. Miso adds a savory umami depth.
Two servings
Ingredients:
1 bunch of hakurei turnips with greens
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
½ cup water
¼ teaspoon salt, plus more as needed
1 teaspoon maple syrup
2 tablespoons mirin
2 tablespoons white miso
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
Preparation:
Start by prepping the vegetables. Trim the tops, leaving roughly half an inch of stem on each turnip. Thoroughly rinse both the roots and the greens. Slice the turnips into wedges – halving smaller roots and quartering larger ones – and cut the greens into ribbons approximately 2 inches wide.
Place the turnip wedges in a wide skillet with 3 tablespoons of butter, 1/2 cup of water, ¼ teaspoon of salt, and 1 teaspoon of maple syrup. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, cover, and let them steam until just tender when pierced with a fork, about 3-5 minutes.
Remove the lid. Let the water evaporate completely. As the liquid disappears, the butter and maple syrup will begin to fry the turnips. Cook, tossing frequently, until the edges start to turn a golden brown, about 3-4 minutes.
Reduce the heat to medium and add the mirin, miso and soy sauce. Stir until combined. Add the chopped greens directly into the skillet with the caramelized turnips. Stir constantly until wilted and tender, about 1 to 2 minutes.
Taste for salt. Miso and soy sauce are fairly salty, so you may not need to add any. If the dish needs more acidity, add a splash of lemon juice or rice vinegar.
To serve, plate the greens and top with the turnips. Garnish with sesame seeds.
This article appears in June 25-July 1, 2026.
