HERE’S TO HOPING EVIL SPIRITS DON’T TURNIP
This Halloween, I still wanted to carve the majestic orange winter squashes known as pumpkins, but I also wanted to dig deeper into my Irish roots, using the medium of those root vegetables known as turnips. Yes, that’s right. It’s time to pass the turnips. In the British Isles, they predate the pumpkin as a tool to chase away wicked spectral beings on Halloween. Just like with pumpkins, all you have to do is carve a face to create the jack-o’-lantern’s round rooted forefather.
Yet, I still had some trepidation about carving turnips. I had never even cooked with them. So, I turned to YouTube for tips. Frankly, the sobering expert advice was more intimidating than a spooky ghost story. The videos warned me how much more difficult it is to carve a turnip than a pumpkin, because a turnip is solid the whole way through. Power tools and sharp knives are apparently called for as are hours that must be devoted to the task of hollowing out the allegedly stubborn vegetable. My sister called my mother, worried that I might hurt myself, which I’m not going to lie, is always a possibility. Yet, just like Jonathan Harker in Dracula, and almost every victim in a horror movie, there would be no turning back. I was determined. My pumpkins were carved into jack-o’-lanterns. I had already purchased the turnips. Also, I needed to frighten away that clever Stingy Jack, who roams the earth with his own turnip lantern (possibly the origin of the name jack-o’-lantern), because he is unwelcome in hell, heaven and hopefully, if all goes according to plan, my front porch. (I wouldn’t mind an interview for the blog, though. I’m as ambitious as Oprah, when it comes to snagging big names.)
Nevertheless, turnip carving wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. I followed the straightforward instructions from an entertaining video by English Heritage, a charity that cares for over 400 historic buildings, monuments and sites, including Stonehenge and maintains a YouTube channel, covering everything from a Queen Victoria makeup tutorial to a recipe for trifle. I did use a knife to hollow out the turnips and I would recommend doing so because it was effective in cutting through their dense texture. Parents might want to take over that part of the project. However, the carving of the faces can be done with the same tools that are used to create jack-o’-lanterns, so that should be safe for children.
In hindsight maybe I could have used bigger turnips to create larger lanterns. The turnips were also perhaps a little too soft to easily carve faces in because they had been on the counter for a week. I should have carved them sooner.
Also, the realization didn’t hit home that the turnip lanterns’ faces are supposed to be spooky and scary, in order to ward off mean monsters, ghouls, etc. “Visitors to the National Museum of Ireland—Country Life, in County Mayo, can see firsthand how terrifying those turnips could look. A plaster cast of a carved turnip lantern common during the early 1900s—called a ‘ghost turnip’ and complete with craggy teeth and sinister eye slits—haunts the museum’s permanent exhibitions,” according to National Geographic. By contrast, mine are actually kind of adorable - The Alvin and the Chipmunks of turnip lanterns. I hope they still serve their otherworldly purpose. Maybe the demons will be turned off by how twee they are.
The sweet, little mouths that I created certainly don’t help the cause. They were too low on the turnips for me to be able to carve anything terrifying, like fangs or any teeth at all really. The faces should be higher on the turnips next time. Also, I would pierce holes in the sides, so that I can carry the lanterns using strings for handles, while I roam the rocky cliffs of Ireland. (Actually, I would be walking in an American suburb that has its own nighttime mystery, with coyotes that howl, owls that hoot and a moon that glows along with tv screens.)
On a side note, I carved holes in the lids to let smoke out, when I thought I would be using old-fashioned candles that use actual fire but the holes became merely decorative when I ordered little tea light battery operated LED candles. I hope that doesn’t decrease the spookiness as well, but it is more sensible. I can keep them on during the night to ward off sinister spirits, whereas with wick burning candles I would have had to blow them out before I went to sleep, which is probably peak time for wayward visits from another realm.
Still, overall I’m happy with my turnip lanterns. I don’t know what the nitpicky evil spirits will think of them, but they’ve cast a spell on my mom and I and that’s good enough. To us they’re more than just symbols of the severed heads of our enemies (you know who you are), hearkening back to pre-Christian times, according to Nathan Mannion, senior curator for EPIC The Irish Emigration Museum, in Dublin, Ireland. We love Liam, Conor and Fiona. (Yes, I named them and one lantern is a girl because I believe in female empowerment.) They’re ours, willed into the world on a sunny, fall day with an apprehensive will to create and propelled by the notion of honoring our heritage with one of the plants that historically grows on Irish soil. (Pumpkins are not native there.)
During the day, the turnip lanterns chill out in the refrigerator. My mom feels that’s the best place to preserve them. It’s funny when you open the refrigerator door to get some mustard or a Pepsi and you see three little faces staring back at you. When darkness falls though, they have their freedom on the front porch, in the cool night air, with the jack-o’-lanterns.
I don’t know how they’ll react to the trick-or-treaters and vice versa. Both groups are kind of unpredictable. One is filled with light, the other with sugar. It will make for a lively night.
I also wonder if my ancestors participated in this Halloween/Samhain (the original Celtic festival) tradition. I’m curious what the faces they carved looked like and if they helped to keep the darkness at bay. I saw the meme below on the Facebook page of one of my favorite Scottish shows, “Still Game” and I do wonder if previous generations would be impressed. Maybe I’ll find out. When the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest this Halloween and the wind is howling, maybe I’ll feel a presence beckoning me and I’ll be able to get some advice on carving root vegetables and you know, warding off evil.
Speaking of evil, I will close out my Halloween post with a picture of a fiendish turnip lantern, like the one that I was supposed to carve. I hope it doesn’t give you nightmares. Unless, you’re a malevolent apparition. Then I hope you toss and turn like a greedy trick-or-treater with a stomach ache.