I love radishes, and I am anxious for the ones my partner planted for me (in the flower bed under the bay window) to be ready to harvest. She pulled one up a couple days ago just to see, but the root was very long and skinny, nowhere near mature enough. I washed it off anyway and tried to eat it, but it wasn't crispy yet, and it was so hot it set my tongue on fire.
That did not surprise me, however, because in my experience, small radishes are often hotter than large ones. In fact, the smaller, the hotter, and vice versa. It makes me wonder if there isn't some universal law of nature that requires all radishes to have exactly the same finite amount of heat, so that the larger the root bulb, the milder the taste since the volume in which the pungency is distributed is larger, whereas a tiny radish will concentrate the same amount of heat-producing elements into its own tiny little self.
Think there's any truth to that?
Nevertheless, it reminds me of a woman I knew long ago whose last name was Braddish. To help people understand and remember, she was in the habit of saying, "Braddish -- like radish with a B." Well, that was fine, until one day when somebody remembered the B but not the vegetable and greeted her with, "Good morning, Mrs. Bunyan."
And that is true.
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