Charmed by Shinshu Turnips
Reflecting the Terroir
of Higashiomi

Turnips have been grown in Japan since ancient times, with records of their cultivation found in documents dating back to the Nara Period (710–94). They have spread throughout Japan and taken root locally, resulting in many indigenous varieties that differ in color and size. The Shinshu Turnip has its roots in Higashiomi City, Shiga Prefecture.
"Because this turnip uses 'Shinshu' [meaning Nagano] in its name, but its history is based on Omi [Shiga], people get confused and often ask me where the vegetable is actually from." So says Mami Matsumoto, who grows Shinshu Turnips.

Only One Farmer Preserves the Shinshu Turnip, Whose Roots Date Back to the Late Heian Period

In all of Japan, the Matsumoto household is the only one still cultivating this red turnip. Records show that the Shinshu Turnip dates back to the late Heian Period, circa 1180. Its origins are said to be around the Echigawa River in modern-day Higashiomi City.
Explains Matsumoto, "In my research, I found records showing that Kiso Yoshinaka encamped in this area on his way to Kyoto. I believe that's when the turnip came here from Shinshu. It's interesting that the place where the turnip comes from, and not where it's now grown, is used in the name."
Sadly, growers of the vegetable dwindled in numbers over the years, and after a time, there was almost nobody who knew of the Shinshu Turnip any longer. Its name was preserved in historical records alone—until 2019, when it sprouted anew. Matsumoto received seeds that had been preserved in a laboratory at Ryukoku University and successfully revived the plant.
Generally speaking, red turnips are very bitter and have a pronounced and unique flavor, making them mainly suitable for pickling. The Shinshu Turnip, however, is soft and quite sweet, enabling its use in other culinary applications such as sautéing. When grated with the peel on, the turnip's natural red skin gives it a bright, vibrant appearance.

Encountering Various Heirloom Vegetables of Japan and Their Growers

Matsumoto recalls a specific moment in her life that piqued her interest in heirloom vegetables, including the Shinshu Turnip.
"I have always liked vegetables. However, I used to think that the vegetables you find in a typical supermarket are the only ones out there. That was back when I was a white-collar worker. Around the time that I began to take interest in growing vegetables for myself, I read an essay on the northern Shiga region concept of yome-iri nasu [referring to eggplant, or nasu, used when someone's daughter goes off to marry into another household, expressed as yome-iri in Japanese]. When a woman decided to marry into a man's family, they would bring heirloom eggplant seeds from their birth household. Those seeds would be used to create a new strain of eggplant suited to the climate and land of her new husband's household, and the tradition would carry on as such. When I read that, I was surprised and pretty impressed to find out that vegetables were propagated in such a way. Later on, I visited various rural mountain villages and encountered vegetables I had never seen before along with the people who cultivated them. After learning of that tradition, vegetable growing became more and more enjoyable for me."
Matsumoto had discovered a new side to the wide-reaching and surprisingly deep world of vegetables. Recalling her initial discovery of native-species vegetables, she says, "There is no place where such vegetables do not exist. Relatively speaking, there are actually very few heirloom species here in Higashiomi. But when I began to search for them myself, I came across the Shinshu Turnip. More recently, someone approached me and said they had found some seeds from sesame raised long ago in the area by their grandmother. I don't know the name of that sesame variety, nor do I know its history. But, I do know that it had been passed down and raised in that family, and the seeds produce sesame entirely different from that grown around here—a really unique kind of sesame, in fact."

Heirloom Vegetables Help Us Fall in Love With a Place

It's not uncommon for many people to think, like Matsumoto once did, that vegetables stocked by supermarkets are the only ones available. Not many people know that each region of Japan has its own unique vegetables, passed down from one generation to the next. When asked why she is so passionate about heirloom vegetables, Matsumoto answers thoughtfully, choosing her words with deliberation, "There's only one reason that I find myself coming to like a certain place: because of its unique native vegetable species. My family constantly moved around due to my parents' work, so I lived in all sorts of places throughout my childhood. As a result, there was no single place that I felt strongly attached to—no place I would call my true hometown. Later in life, when encountering all of these heirloom vegetables, I learned the history of how they had traveled all over the place and taken root in their growing region. As a result, I became more attached to those places myself through their vegetables.
"These days, a lot of people move away from their places of birth to live in big cities, so there aren't many people with a strong love for their hometown or its general culture and scenery. In that regard, I think that an area's heirloom vegetables play an important role as part of food culture. There was a researcher at Yamagata University named Takashi Aoba who said that 'vegetables are living cultural heritages,' and I agree completely."
Describing her current place of residence, Matsumoto adds, "It feels as if my field is a 'resting place' on the journey that connects the vegetable's past with its future.
Therefore, I need to collect seeds from my produce. It's not so much an obligation as it is a desire to ensure that the lives of these living cultural heritages do not end here."

Driven by the Life Force of Heirloom Vegetables

Heirloom vegetables with ties to a certain region have a life force suited to survival in that area. Unfortunately, severe changes in climate-condition in recent years have, according to Matsumoto, "Made us unsure of what will happen in the coming years. One thing I'm sure of is that we've reached an important turning point for farmers, who must take various measures to continue producing successfully."
She has, however, discovered a new material designed with agricultural technology that may help her through this challenging period. "I've been farming for 10 years now, and I've experimented with a lot of different techniques and approaches. Agriculture means going head-to-head with Mother Nature, and although we try a lot of different things to survive and thrive, it's hard to know if we've made the right choices until some time has passed. Despite having done this for 10 years now, I don't feel like I've accumulated all that much know-how yet. That's been my impression of things so far. Recently, I've decided to try out netting material made with SOLAMENT™, which can absorb near-infrared light and also generate its own heat. I'm hoping this will help provide the warmth needed to grow seedlings in my greenhouse during the winter. I'm also thinking of using this advanced shade net for the Shinshu Turnips sown in the fall. When rainfall is insufficient, the heat from the sun steals away water content from the soil. Using SOLAMENT™ shade net will probably provide enough heat-blocking effect to mitigate that problem."

It is estimated that humankind began farming more than 10,000 years ago. They collect the seeds from vegetables they raise, plant those seeds, then harvest the resulting crops. By selecting only the best-quality plants for seed collection, they foster vegetables with characteristics suited to their growing regions, and then harvest their seeds to continue the cycle—a tradition continued from the past until present.
"Vegetables get help from humans to evolve so that they can survive and prosper," says Matsumoto. "Through my work, I do what I can to give the vegetables the things they need to survive more effectively. Sometimes, I think those vegetables are just using me [laughs]. But I'm not doing it because it would make me sad to see them go extinct; rather, I'm doing it because I want to. It just seems like the right thing to do for these vegetables I discovered and have come to love over the years."