Pick what you will actually cook.

The substantial one. Thick pale stems that snap, a flavour closer to a raw sunflower seed than to a leaf, and enough body that it can be the salad rather than the thing sprinkled on top. One box and a cucumber is dinner for two.

• The whole tray in a bowl with cucumber, lemon and oil This is the salad, not the garnish on one. Radish through it does the seasoning.
• Piled onto buttered toast with salt The stems snap. That is the whole idea — texture where toast has none.
• Over roasted squash and carrots, straight out of the oven Sweet on sweet, and cold raw crunch against something soft and hot.
• Stirred through hot noodles off the heat, at the very end The steam softens the leaf and the stem still snaps. In the pan it would be gone.
• In a wrap with chicken, or tofu and peanut sauce Holds its shape under sauce where lettuce goes limp and wet.

All the pepper of a radish and none of the woodiness. Fine stems, delicate to look at, and much louder than they look. One box does a week of breakfasts, which is about as long as it keeps anyway.

• On a fried egg, or a boiled one cut in half Does what you were reaching for the pepper mill to do, and tastes greener.
• Avocado on toast, lemon, plenty of it Nothing in avocado toast is sharp until you put this on it.
• Cream cheese, smoked salmon, and a handful on top Cuts the fat. Two rich things on a bagel need something sharp between them.
• In a sandwich in place of lettuce Same job, except it tastes of something. Peppery rather than merely wet.
• Over hot boiled potatoes with butter The heat lifts the pepper. Broccoli instead for anyone who does not want the bite.

The quiet one. Gently green and faintly sweet, without the pepper of radish or the heat of mustard — green in a dish without taking the dish over. A box lasts about a week, and it finishes almost any plate you put it on. And it tastes nothing like boiled broccoli, which matters if there is a child at the table who won't go near that: they cut it from the tray themselves, and that is most of why it gets eaten.

• Over the pizza the moment it comes out of the oven Cool green onto molten cheese. Thirty seconds and it has wilted exactly right.
• A handful dropped on hot soup, in the bowl Green on a bowl of December soup, and it goes in at the table so it stays crisp.
• Folded into an omelette just before it closes Soft egg, butter, and a green that stays green instead of going grey.
• Over rice with whatever is there — fish, beans, a fried egg Plain rice with a runny yolk, and a handful turns it into supper.
• Inside a grilled cheese, after the flip Cuts the cheese without shouting over it the way radish would.

The strong one, and not subtle about it. The heat is the sharp kind that rises into the nose rather than sitting on the tongue, and it is gone within seconds. A few leaves at a time, and a box outlasts the week.

• Dropped onto a bowl of noodle soup at the last second The steam carries the heat straight up your nose. Add it while the pot is still on and you lose it.
• On a steak sandwich, or with cold rare roast beef Horseradish heat without the jar, and it belongs with red meat the same way.
• Rice, salmon, soy — a bowl at home The wasabi note is already in the leaf. The tube in your fridge is out of a job.
• In a burger instead of the pickles Sharp and hot in the same bite, and it does not slide out the back. Sunflower under it as well if you want the crunch.
• With sharp cheddar on bread, nothing else Two loud things that turn out to agree. The heat clears and the cheese stays.