My favourite meal of the week when I was growing up was Sunday dinner.
Mum would put the roast in the oven and ice cream in the freezer before we went to church.
We’d come home to the delights of roast mutton and potatoes, accompanied by mint sauce, gravy (made the proper way in the roasting dish) and, in winter, swede.
The delights of swede escape many people further north. That could be because, like stone fruit, swedes need good frosts to enhance their sweetness.
To my farmer’s regret we rarely have roasts and I can’t remember the last time I cooked swede.
But reading swedes sales grow full-blown business has reminded my taste buds of those long ago dinners.
It’s too early yet, but when we’ve had a few frosts I”ll be hoping the stock won’t mind if a few swedes make their way from the paddock to my pot.