As I prepare my lunches each evening for the next day, I find that I relish the little red jewels I slice up and add to the salad. Although I hated them when I was a child, I have come to love radishes. My grandma Mayme, who passed away 40 years ago loved radishes too. I know that because I remember a story that she told more than once when the men were drinking beer while playing cards at one of the family gatherings.
My grandma told the story that once when she was a young woman and the men were playing cards the men would tease her about not drinking beer. One of them asked her if she like horseradish. Since she liked radish and really liked almost all foods, she said that she would try it. One of the men sliced off a big slice of horseradish. She popped it into her mouth. And chewed. The closest beverage was one of the men's beer. She grabbed it and drank a several big gulps to get rid of the burning horseradish taste. Grandma would then say that she didn't know which tasted worse--beer or horseradish. Indeed.
And that is how I know that my grandma like radish, but not beer or horseradish.
My grandma told the story that once when she was a young woman and the men were playing cards the men would tease her about not drinking beer. One of them asked her if she like horseradish. Since she liked radish and really liked almost all foods, she said that she would try it. One of the men sliced off a big slice of horseradish. She popped it into her mouth. And chewed. The closest beverage was one of the men's beer. She grabbed it and drank a several big gulps to get rid of the burning horseradish taste. Grandma would then say that she didn't know which tasted worse--beer or horseradish. Indeed.
And that is how I know that my grandma like radish, but not beer or horseradish.