The Mystery of Rutabaga

I’ve had rutabaga in things before, and I can’t really describe what it tastes like. It smells like a cross between cabbage and something else. Wikipedia says its a brassica (the mustard family = kale, Brussel sprouts, broccoli and cauliflower). I had it for the first time in pasties, when I lived in Michigan’s upper peninsula, and honestly you could substitute potatos and nobody would know. Looking at this thing, its a large non-descript root vegetable of some kind, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen one in the wild. If I do, I’ll let you know. I have no idea why I bought this. I am attracted to strange vegetables and fruits for some unknown reason – if its on sale, even better.

Before finals week I had goals of making pasties. We got a doe during season this year and have plenty of venison on hand. I would have had the time, except a family tragedy kept me out of the kitchen and grief kept me barely functional for most of the weekend. I finished all my semester classes with respectable grades, so that’s a bonus. In the meantime, the produce I purchased last week with intent to create these pasties was aging rapidly in my fridge, so I felt compelled to do something with them rather than toss them. The rutabaga would have kept, I’m sure – that thing could survive a nuclear bomb. It’s like a bowling ball. So now that I’m clear of homework for a short bit I decided to take on this challenge of using up all the produce to create a vegetable Shepard’s pie, starring the aforementioned Nordic turnip.

So this all started with an idea I pulled from the black hole of recipes that I like to call Pinterest. I was going to make it all vegetable, until the house carnivore swooped in and casually suggested we add some venison. We struck a bargain – if he helped cook it, we could add the meat. Turns out this reverse psychology worked, because he basically took over and made this glorious stew. He also put this beer in my hand, so as to not waste it.

Like all experimental recipes, it took far too long to cook – while we were waiting we gamed it a bit, strategizing if we could shorten up some of the longer cook time parts in the InstaPot, and what we would add/take away next time.

After getting the rutabaga to al dente and blasting her in the oven for 30 minutes she was ready for testing (eating!). Not shabby at all.