I always was a very, very picky eater, and even these days it takes me time to actually work at liking certain foods. I have mentioned that I gagged when my mother made cabbage soup and stuffed cabbage.

On Sunday, the day my father would go to our local deli and pick up lox and bagels, a whole smoked white fish and the newspapers, I would leave the kitchen as I watched him read The New York Times and dismember the fish, leaving the skin, bone and fins. I would have a bagel with cream cheese but would not eat the lox.

Over the years, I learned that all fish didn’t taste or look like that white fish and that smoked salmon with capers and onion, especially gravlax, was delicious.

I never liked radishes. My mother and father would eat them whole. Even when sliced, it was so peppery that it burned my little mouth.

About 20 years ago I had a fresh radish, thinly sliced, and felt not the burning but the flavor of the soil from which the bulb gestated.

West Street Grill’s James O’Shea and his partner, Charlie Kafferman, once came to visit. James sliced fresh radishes in a skillet and gently sauted them in unsalted butter. He served them with a fillet of salmon topped with fresh herbs he found in my garden. That same spring, I bought some radishes, sliced them and ate them with a few slices of Charlie van Over’s baguette slathered with butter. It was shatteringly delicious.

In this April-May issue of Fine Cooking, there are three recipes for radishes. Our local radishes may not be ready yet, but there are some beautiful ones in the supermarket.

I was particularly pleased with the produce aisles at the Big Y in Groton. When you do buy radishes, make sure the radish greens are full, fresh and very green. The radishes should be solid.

And, as soon as you get home, remove the greens from the radishes, rinse them, dry them and pack them in a sealed plastic bag separately from the radishes themselves.

Pasta with Radish Tops and Bottoms

From Fine Cooking, April-May 2019, pages 38-39

Serves 4

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 cups halved red globe or French breakfast radishes

10 ounces campanella (or swirly pasta)

1/4 cup olive oil, plus more for drizzling

4 cups coarsely chopped radish leaves and tender stems

4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced lengthwise

1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes, or more to taste

1 15-ounce can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1/4 cup toasted pine nuts

1/4 cup freshly grated pecorino Romano, plus more for serving

Bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Put the radishes in a medium bowl and toss with 3/4 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Meanwhile, cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Reserve 1/2 cup of cooking water, then drain.

In a large, deep skillet, heat 1/4 cup oil over medium heat until shimmering. Add radishes and cook, stirring occasionally until beginning to turn golden, about 5 minutes.

Reduce heat to medium low and add radish leaves and stems, garlic and pepper flakes and cook, stirring frequently, until garlic is fragrant and greens are wilted, about 2 minutes. Add chickpeas, parsley and pasta. Stir to coat and heat through.

Remove from the heat and add reserved cooking water, a little at a time, to loosen the sauce, if you like. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Stir in the lemon zest and juice, pine nuts and 1/2 cup of cheese. Drizzle with oil and serve with more cheese at the table.

Lee White lives in Groton.