Tropical Roots

(Unpublished)

“Wha’s dis?” said the gum-chewing checkout girl on the till at the supermarket, as she gingerly picked up one of the strange root vegetables that I had placed on the counter with an assortment of other potential purchases.

“Em, I think it’s called an Eddoe,” I said, as I watched her hold it between her thumb and forefinger. She sniffed it tentatively and placed it back on the counter, wiping her hands on her uniform.

“Howdya spell da?” she asked, and sighed as she scratched her head with a pen extracted with some difficulty from behind her ear.

“E-D-D...”

“Howld on a mina’,” she interrupted and pressed some keys on the till before looking at me open mouthed with a semi-vacant expression.

“O-E,” I finished and she hit a few more keys.

She sighed again and stared at the screen for a moment.

“Are ya sure? Cos snaw on de compu-er.”

She tapped the screen with the pen, her mouth hanging open again.

“Pretty sure that’s what was on the sign,” I replied looking behind me, conscious of the growing queue of restless people that was forming on this, the only till open of the half dozen lined up at the exit of the store.

“Dya ee e?”

“Sorry?”

“Like cook e?”

“Oh. Sorry, yes you eat it.”

“Ri’” she said and poked it around the counter with her pen. Then she focused on an imaginary point a foot above my head before pressing some more buttons on her keyboard.

“Well der swee’ podayhoes now. Da’ll be five twen’y five for de loh. Are ya klekdin de stamps?”

‘Aah, No. Thanks,’ I replied shaking my head as I paid her.

“I hope de tays beher than de look,” she said, as she gave me back my change.

I was still shaking my head as I left the store.

She had a point mind you, as they are certainly not the most attractive looking of vegetables. They resemble something a cat had not so much dragged in as covered up in a litter tray.

Eddoes, or Taros, belong to a group of plants called Calocasia. They are native to southeastern Asia and the second part of its Latin name, esculenta, translates as ‘edible’. I first came across them in a previous existence when I sold the tubers as exotic perennials called Elephant’s Ears - not to be confused with Bergenia, which are also known by the same common name - that would grow up to a metre high with broad luxuriant leaves. Although they need winter protection, their jungle effect foliage was a wonderful contrast to grasses and bamboos that were becoming popular at the time, and still are. The flower bulb company who marketed these plants went bust a few years ago and I had forgotten about them until I spotted the exotic roots in a supermarket recently. Although labelled as Eddoes I knew them immediately as the Calocasia I had sold and grown in the past.

I had always recommended growing them in pots so that the could be overwintered easily by lifting the pots in to a shed and letting the leaves turn yellow before removing them to prevent the bulb rotting. I presumed they could be grown from the tubers I had found in the supermarket and sure enough, after a few weeks in pots on the windowsill they began to send out some spindly shoots that I knew will eventually turn into soft heart shaped leaves.

I cooked a few too, peeling them first, cutting them into strips and roasting them in the oven with a little olive oil before tossing them in a little sea salt and black pepper. They tasted vaguely earthy like mild potatoes with a slight sweet-nutty taste and a firm crunchy texture. Although quite tasty they were no match for a few roasted Maris Pipers so I’m not sure that they will be featuring high up in my diet over the coming years. (Not unless I discover they are a cure for hangovers at least.)

The reason they are popular as a food crop in other countries is because of their need for damp soil conditions and high humidity, something that potatoes would not generally tolerate. In tropical countries our staple the spud would collapse and die before you could say, “Have you any spray for potato bli… oh, never mind.” The Eddoe however will thrive and prosper in these conditions so it’s understandable why it and its close relatives are grown instead.

Indeed the tubers I bought in that supermarket had arrived here from Brazil, a country where I’m sure they sow potatoes but where a crop like this, that needs little care or attention can be easily grown by all.

So I think I’ll stick with it for its ornamental value. With its toes sitting in the pond it will make a welcome addition to the jungle of my back garden. Not to mention the fact that it takes a lot of the nutrients out of a pond that would normally cause algae and green water. (I just need to remember to bring it in to my shed for the winter.) Not bad value for fifty cent “swee’ padayhoes” as they’re know in certain retail circles.

Welcome to the jungle!